Oh that's right, I am here to Teach!

(Now I know I said I would stop writing long entries, but apparently years of fulling word count quotas has installed me with a inability to just write a few words, or stop waffling, or adding adjectives (though strictly speaking that is rather looked down upon in English classes. . . see? I just can't stop typing! It's like a disease!)

Anyway, since technically I moved to South Korea to, you know, teach and all (yeah I know, I forgot for awhile there as well), I thought I ought to mention it at least once. . .

But first, my classroom!

"My" might be a tad misleading though, since it denotes that I have some sort of claim over this room, whereas in reality I (often alongside my students) am usually left standing outside looking forlorn (like the maiden who milked the cow with the crumpled horn (seriously, you've never heard this? Read a nursery rhyme, people!)) as I wait for whatever English class that has gone over time to finish. The kids love it because it means more time in to play tag in the library, I however need the precious three minutes before class to work out where I put all my resources and where I saved my files (seriously they prop up in the weirdest places). I do feel a certain entitlement towards the room since it is now my job to turn of the lights, the AC and the computers, check the windows and lock the doors at the end of the day, unbelievably these jobs aren't getting done with nearly as much efficiency as they once were (I do try! Seriously!). I'm pretty sure the other English teachers have started using positive reinforcement (just like the girls at Bagels, I'm starting to see a disturbing trend) "You turned everything off! Have a cookie!" (Just for the record, the don't actually give me cookies, but a pat on the head is a lot less impressive). 

So since my classroom is an actual classroom and I'm not just stuck in the library I have all these flash (since Ben tells me that Americans don't use this term, I shall translate, it means "shiny and new") toys to play with, most noticeably one of those interactive white boards, which is excellent for two reasons, one being of course it is a handy dandy teaching resource, but the other is that my kids are actually obsessed with it, so whenever it goes on they all stop talking/running around/mimicking giving birth to a football (s-o-c-c-e-r)(happens more often than you would imagine) ball and pay attention (they also like to make shadow puppets with it, which can totally be made educational "that is a dog, that is a sheep, the dog is now mauling the sheep, the sheep is dead. . . ")  

Adjoining the classroom is the English library, which I am starting to believe is code for playground as I have yet to see anyone actually read a book whilst in there. . .
                                                                                                                                                                                                            
The rules of the English library seem simple enough:
1) English Only
2) Be respectful
3) Help each other
4) Wait your turn
5) Talk quietly

However I'm starting to think the first mistake was writing the rules in English, because this room is the loudest, most violent and disorganized room I have ever seen (and if you have ever had the misfortune to see one of my bedrooms you would know this is saying something).

I'm pretty sure the little monsters see me in the room hard at work (on Facebook) and think "excellent, she can't speak Korean, therefore we can't actually get into any trouble!" (Pretty solid reasoning really) And then come in and play tag, which involves a lot of screaming, running around and climbing on desks, every so often I will say "hey! Shhhhhhh!" and make the time honoured shushing motion, to which one of them will inevitable reply "yeah, yeah, ok, ok" in a condescending tone (hey I am not imagining it, if anyone knows condescending it's me) then they will proceed to get louder. It's all good times, until an actual teacher comes in and shouts at them in Korean and then they all look at me like I should have protected them from the injustice of it all. Life is hard, darlings, life is hard.


So my classes! That's really what you wanted to know about, right? No? Then bugger off, it's not like I held you down and forced you to read this or anything (please don't leave me). I have three classes a day, from 2pm until 4:20pm (I know, I know, what a looooooooooooooong, arduous day I have) each class is 40 minutes long, with a ten minute gap in between them. I see the same three groups of students every day, which is good because I can learn their names and get to know them and teach them lots of different things but it does also mean I have to plan fifteen lessons a week, which is a bit of a pain as I usually leave everything to the last minute (shocking I know. (Before my first class I left the lesson planning until the absolute last minute justifying it with the fact that I didn't actually have any clue how fluent the children were in English (and it was actually a fair call! I was way off and would have wasted my time planning the lessons I was thinking of (and people say this "nah, it will sort itself out" mentality is unhealthy)))) (That has to be a new record for brackets)  
Anyway . . .

My first class is first graders, there is about 20 of them on any given day, and they are mostly boys, which means a lot of hyper-action and screaming and if I am very, very lucky, hyperactive screaming. My first couple of classes with them was like the calm before the storm (or you know, that scene at the start of a horror movie where everything is bright and shiny and the heroine has no idea what she is about to stumble into even though the audience is screaming at her? Yeah, it was like that, the other English teachers were the audience, only instead of screaming, they were more laughing hysterically (it really should have been my first clue)). Anyway, my first class with them went like this:

Me: Hello, what's your name?
Student: *blank stare*
Me: Name?
Student *blanker stare*
Me: My name is Shayna *points at myself* What's your name? *points at student*
Student *looks around for translation from the other students who are all staring just as blankly*

In the end one of the English teachers in the library had had enough of getting a giggle from this and came in to help me, she said to the student "What's your name?" (in English mind) and the kids faces just cleared right up, "ooooooh! Name!" Yes of course, I just need a Korean accent. I will get right on that.(Of course no-one bothered letting me know that they don't actually speak a word of English, because then they would have missed out on all the fun). This silence lasted for the next couple of lessons, no one uttered a single word (neither in Korean or English) and when Sue (one of my co-teachers) came in I told her (rather naively) about how good and quiet and well-behaved our first graders were. She may never believe me, ever again.


That day was as if the damn broke, I'm still not really sure if it is because there was a Korean speaker in the class, or because they had decided that even though I have blue eyes (or green, no-one has actually ever been able to agree on this point) I wasn't actually going to kidnap them and sell their organs, or because it was a Friday, or because the entire class hadn't taken their ADHD meds or because it was a full moon, or a storm was in the air or any combination of these things, but they just lost it. Absolutely and completely. They were running around and ripping things up and throwing things and jumping on each other and screaming and even Sue telling them off in Korean didn't dissuade them. In the end we pushed all the desks to the back of the room and played Fruit Basket (if you don't know what this is, then congratulations you have a life), which I justify because now they are pros at "red", "yellow", "green", "blue" and "rainbow" and I managed to keep my life and my body parts in tact (even though the we got in trouble for being to loud and disrupting a staff meeting that was going on down the hall, (good first impression as a teacher!))

Now we have settled into a happy medium, while they don't actually ever shut up anymore, I haven't feared for my life since that Friday. Call me an idiot, but I am glad though, I would rather a rowdy class then the silence that plagued me those first few days, kids are supposed to be loud and unruly and even though I spend most classes yelling to be heard during an activity or confiscating something or mediating a fight over felt pens or frantically trying to think of something to do that will burn off their energy I wouldn't have it any other way. But please remind me of this in three months when I have tinnitus, have lost all my hair and am reduced to a sobbing, rocking mess in the corner of the room.

The second class is second graders, and while only a year older than the first graders they are a lot calmer, it is probably just because the class is mostly girls, they understand a bit more English and there is only ten of them rather than any magic maturity that is gained in a year. These kids have taken it upon themselves to teach me Korean, though I imagine it is just an ingenious way to distract me for a few minutes and get a laugh every class, I should remind them that I never laugh at their English pronunciation, though I did make them say "Umbrella, ella, ella, ella" that one time so really I probably deserve it. They spend most of their time talking to me in a slow deliberate way most likely in the hopes that the crash course in Korean they have been giving me will finally pay off and I will suddenly be fluent. Usually I say "English! English!" and one of the little smart arses will go "No teacher! Korean!" Cute little brats. The boys in this class (and there are only three) are easily dealt with, while still as hyper as their first grader counterparts, I just tell them that they won't get a sticker if they don't finish their work by a certain time and they use that psychotic energy to get everything done. If only it worked with the first graders, they all distract each other to no end!


My last class is a mix of third, fourth, fifth and sixth graders, I am not sure who thought that this was a good idea but I would love to meet them. In the first few classes three of the students left since they decided the work was too easy, even though Joanne (my mentor teacher) told me not to worry since those kids were all siblings and had just moved to the school and were a bit crazy (she didn't actually say they were crazy, she just did the crazy eyes and swirled her finger by her ear, apparently some things are cross-cultural) still it was a tad insulting, but I am a big girl, so no need to cry about it. There are only seven kids in this class so it is a nice, slow, quiet ending to the day.


And Jina and Sun are in this class. Seriously they are my saving grace after what seems like four million hours of dealing with the first graders. Jina is a sixth grader who should really just get paid along with my two co-teachers, she starts every game, finishes every activity first and whenever the class is staring at me in that dreaded blank stare she translates it for me (seriously, a huge fear is that she will decide the class is too easy as well!). Sun is her little sister, and she has so much enthusiasm it is bursting out of her. No matter what we are doing, even if it is something as boring as reading out answers to an activity, you would think it was the most exciting thing she has ever done in her entire life, she is always saying "Me?! Me! Please teacher! Me next?" and bouncing around in her chair, she actually let out a little cheer when I gave out a crossword the other day. They really make up for the other kids, one who is painfully shy, one who is painfully lazy and the other two who can't actually read yet. Although all of these kids are obsessed with Hangman. Which is fine by me, because if they are good I let them play, they think they are getting a treat, they practise reading, writing, spelling and speaking (usually with new vocab) and I get to have a break, it's win-win!


The last student in this class is a first grader, who is cute beyond words, but who I have no idea what to do with! He was too busy to come to the first grade class, so his mother (in her infinite wisdom, I am sure) decided that he would come to this class. Jina to the rescue again though, when she is finished with her work she helps out Johnny and makes sure he knows what he is doing, which is handy because he doesn't understand a single word I say! He can't read or write, so I give him sheets on the alphabet, he's up to "H" now, after that I will have to get more creative, any ideas?


So that's my classes! It's only been a few weeks, and we are just settling into things, so who knows how it will all pan out. Usually I go from absolutely terrified to thinking I can do it, to wanting to flee screaming back to New Zealand all in the space of one lesson, one of the Korean English teachers I meet said I will get used to it in about seven years. Cheers buddy.


Now your homework is. . .  who am I kidding I don't give homework.

Liz (the other Co-teacher) said the other day "is that actually grammatically correct?" Ahhh bless no trust in the English teachers!

 

New Digs

I have been in Busan for nearly three weeks now (I think? Time has never been my strong point), and of that three weeks two have been in my own little flat. I live in an apartment building in a one bedroom (seriously, ONE room) that overlooks a road where I swear the Korean Mafia gathers (that or old men who are playing Go, but one can never be too careful). For those who haven't been blessed with seeing a Korean apartment building,  imagine trying to get the entire population of New Zealand into on city, then it is easier to appreciate the fact that the places are small and the walls are paper thin, seriously I have had many a heart attack when I think someone is wondering around in my bathroom only to realise that it is my neighbour having a shower.

Busan! My backyard! . . . Ok, it is a fifteen minute bus drive, followed by a forty minute subway ride, followed by a ten minute walk away, but it is much more impressive then the factories that are really near me.

  My room is not that small compared to the shoe box that I used to live in back home. Not that I am complaining mind you, I chose my shoe box, I love my shoe box! (See Mum? This is the answer to "why did you chose the smallest room in the house?" question that you have been asking me for years, it is because I needed to live there first so that my flat seems like it is a huge gaping space.) And compared to some of the other TaLKers I have heard that I ended up well off (even if I don't have a balcony or live right next to the beach. Screw you. You know who you are).

The hallway to my apartment reminds me of the one that was on "The Grudge," and when I get home at midnight and am desperately searching for my keys I always freak myself out, which is rather stupid since I didn't even find the movie scary, obviously I just have an over the top imagination. 

So here is my flat/room! I was going to clean before I took photos and then I thought "who am I kidding, there is no way!" Anyway the kitchen is a resonable size for someone who burns rice and can't handle anything too taxing (besides if I want an actual good meal I will invite myself over to Afua's or bus down to Ulsan and look pathetic until Shalini feeds me). As you may notice the washing machine is in the kitchen, which is better then there not being a washing machine, still I find it a bit bizarre watching my clothes go round and round as I toast my toast for dinner. Apparently they are washers and dryers, yet my sad lack of Korean means I have no actual idea how to use it, I just put it on any old number and hope for the best.

Since I need to explain this to everyone who comes around, my pillow has t-shirts on it because it is nasty and I simply refuse to place my head directly on it. I nicked a pillow case off Afua but it is too small, so using my Kiwi ingenuity I used the shirts for a covering, not that weird now is it?! (It really is isn't it?)

My bathroom (and all bathrooms in Korea really) has a rather misleading name, since it doesn't have a bath even shower room would be a bit of a joke as well, "toilet room" would be the closest to the truth.  See that shower head up there? That's it for washing. It wouldn't be too bad except the pressure in this head is a bit busted so it tends to just dribble onto the floor so I have to hold it up in order to get any water, so a shower is a bit of a production. I must admit I really miss the parent's brand new state-of-the-art beast of a shower.  The other thing is that if you don't push the button when you are finished and make the mistake of trying to wash your hands (as I have done. . . often) you get water all over your head (because when I actually want a shower, the water doesn't touch me, but when I am trying to wash my hands I get absolutely covered)



Toilets in Korea are fun, fun times. You usually get one of three types.

1) A completely Western toilet, except the fact that the water is really, really, ridiculously high these toilets are the same that you get at home.
                                                               
2) A Western toilet with Korean plumbing. Korean plumbing! Erg, That means that you can't put paper down it. Which is disturbing on so many levels. We had these at English camp. Nine girls in a room and you can't flush the paper! The worse thing about this is that there is no bag in the rubbish bin, I have so much sympathy for the people who have to clean up these bins, it makes cleaning Bagel toilets look like a walk in the park.

3) Korean/Asian toilets, otherwise known as squat toilets, I am terrified of the thought of them, I'm very worried that I would topple over if I used one, so far I have managed to stay away from them!

The point of this list is so that you understand when I say how relieved I was that the toilet was a number one! Thank the saints!

There is one thing I don't understand about my toilet room, (OK there are a lot of things I don't understand about it but for the sake of argument. . . ) there is a part of the room that in any other house would be a shower. Instead it is just a room with a pipe in it. It is like the builder started putting in a shower and went "screw it, no-one uses showers anymore anyway" and just left it as it was.

Doesn't this just look like a shower to you?

And they got me a rice cooker, awwwww. 

 

 

 

So thats my new digs! Any questions class?

Korea so far . . .

(I must apologise, this is going to be a very long first blog post, so long in fact that something tells me that Mama is going to be the only person to make it all the way through to the end. But thanks ever so for attempting to finish/starting/looking at the pictures/getting this far and thinking “learn to stop waffling” (ne-vah!) Anyway, this will be very long because I am trying to cover the first month of my trip in one pretty message. I promise next time I won’t write so much/at all (I am very lazy). And for anyone who has never gotten an e-mail from me before, I have a rather strong affinity for brackets (see? I even started my very first blog with a bracket) commas, and I have a tendency to wander off into another topic in the middle of a spiel, I apologise in advance for this as I am told it is rather annoying/hard to understand/just really really stupid.) 

Although I can never be even as half as cool as Andy-my-Love (who is pretty damn cool), I thought I would jump on the bandwagon and start keeping a blog. This is mostly because A) I tend to forget who I have told what to, and it leads to my friends telling me very kindly “I’ve heard this story before, shut up Crawford” and B) This way if you don’t give a rat’s arse as to what I have been doing, you no longer have to pretend to care you can just say “Oh I’ve been reading your blog, sounds like you are having fun,” I will no doubt believe your filthy, filthy lie and we can all get back to talking about what is most important, you. (Don’t even try to pretend that you don’t do this!)

So for those who didn’t get the memo, I am in Korea for the next six (now five) months in order to teach English to a bunch of kids who would rather be doing just about anything else with their free time. I was going to write about the orientation in Jochiwon but to be honest I can’t really remember much that happened. In my mind it goes something like this; food, lecture, lecture, lecture, lecture, food, lecture, lecture, lecture, food, sleep, correct me if I am wrong. I did meet some of the strangest, loudest, nicest and most awesome people around, made a pretty below par fan, terrorised some monks at a Buddhist temple (who did their best to teach us how to bow properly while having little to no grasp on the English language, kai pai them), traipsed around Seoul in what can only be described as a monsoon, fell over no less than four times, saw a Nanta performance (which has to be seen to be properly appreciated), learnt three new magic tricks, sang at far too many karaoke bars (if you guessed that one is far too many, you would be right), went on a “fifteen minute walk” that lasted nearly an hour, rode in many buses that made me feel like I was a genie, went to a peach festival where I saw not one peach, had a bunch of people repeat my sentences back at me in weird pseudo English accents (they tried so hard) and saw a Tae Kwon Doe performance that made me wish I made it higher than a white belt (I would have been lower if it were possible).

Part of the temple.

We also went to an English Camp for five days during our last week at orientation. Whilst there we got paired up with our own living, breathing, money wasting child. I can’t even try to explain how nerve wreaking it was waiting to get our kid, it rather reminded me of P.E class and waiting to get chosen for a team (on a side note, why do teachers even allow that? Is P.E not soul destroying enough that they need to add an extra peer induced kick in the face?) It wasn’t as bad as I had envisioned though as the kids did not get to chose a teacher as such, they just got led in and sat next to the first scholar they were close to. It was all luck of the draw. While I waited for my child to scream “I want another, better teacher!” we had an opening ceremony (Korea is really big on opening ceremonies) and I tried to think of something interesting to say to the little girl next to me (I got as far as “Hi! What’s your name?” before my I lost whatever conversational skills I once possessed and we were left staring blankly at one another). I need not have worried however, as my kid, Lee Yoon Hee (think “Leonie” or Yoon Hee “Yunie”) was one of the nicest, smartest and politest little girls on the camp. I was really very, very lucky when I was placed with her, especially since a lot of the other kids seemed to have ADHD or were violent or were just generally little bastards.

The girls from Room 111.

The sleeping arrangements while on camp were interesting, there were 9 girls in our room (Room 111, the most awesome room around) and we all slept on mats on the floor. I managed to nick off with two sleeping mats instead of one and it made it quite comfortable, but I hear that the one paper thin mattress wasn’t really conducive to a good sleeping environment. It was nice being able to meet some of the other TaLK girls who I hadn’t yet spoken to, and make a bunch of new friends, (also I learnt the most annoying new game, next time you see me ask me to play “Sculpture” with you, you will be sorry you did, then you will be well pleased and so the circle will turn). English camp was a worthwhile little adventure, even though I did spend a ridiculous amount of money buying ice creams for the kids, I did manage to pick up some handy tips on how to work with Korean children.

After we returned from English Camp we had three minutes (it might have been a another day, but whatever it was far to short a time) to pack and get ready to move to our provinces. It was sad to say goodbye to all the new people I had met, I know it had only been three weeks, but after such an intense schedule it felt as if I had known them for years. It was even harder since I couldn’t say goodbye to everyone so to those I missed “Goodbye! I hope to see you again soon!” It was really time to start moving on though and I am well excited about teaching and meeting my kids. Also I appreciate Carlie and Catlin’s help getting my bags down from my room so much more after I had to get them up to the hotel room by myself, lets take a minute to thank the brave little soldiers.

Shalini, Nathan, Steven, Erin and Me on our last day.

Minute taken. My province is called “Busan” or just to be really confusing it is also often known as “Pusan”. If you want to know about it, my advice is to Google it, after all Wikipedia is famous for being very accurate. After a fun filled five hour bus drive we arrived, and to be honest my first thought was “I’m back in Wellington!” The only real reason I thought that was because it is on the waterfront and surrounded by hills, comparison ends there. We were staying in a hotel, which was a bit cramped but nice enough (the toilets were amazing! They had a million buttons on them! Whoooo!) the only complaint I have is that the AC in our room was broken, which isn’t exactly excellent when the temperature was hitting 32 degrees. Our POE orientation was entertaining and we actually had free time so that was new and exciting. It was nice to spend time with the other Busan people and get to know them better.

On our first day we went to the UN Memorial Cemetery, the Busan Museum, the APEC House and Gwangan Beach. The UN Memorial Cemetery is (shockingly) a cemetery that honours the soldiers from the United Nations who lost their lives during the Korean War. (Hopefully I don’t sound too much like a Documentary channel special when I write this) The Korean War is known as “the forgotten war” but the Koreans have not definitely not forgotten. The cemetery is immaculately kept. I saw a women scrubbing bird poop off the walkway while we were there, and I don’t remember seeing a single leaf or a spot of gum on the ground. Every day they have a ceremony to raise the flags (I think there were thirteen of them? Eleven for the members of the UN who fought, the UN flag and one for Korea itself) and then another at night to lower them, they also have guards standing at the entrance of the site, who must have been sweltering in their army uniforms but looked better off then we did. Here is what I learnt, 41 New Zealanders died during the war, and the youngest to lose his life of all the soldiers was an Australian who was only seventeen. He has a waterway dedicated to him. There is also a few war widows buried in the cemetery as they did not want to be separated from their husbands. It was all a bit surreal really, this beautiful place that was supposed to be a symbol for a terrible and sad chapter of history. If we hadn’t watched the handy DVD presentation at the start of the garden I think I would have assumed the place was just a scenic garden to show the tourists. There were also statues and carvings donated from the eleven countries, I saw the Kiwi contribution from about a block away because we were about to learn a fun fact about Mr. Choi (our POE supervisor), now I am not sure if this was a Korean thing, or if it is a Mr. Choi thing but we were hustled through the cemetery at a shocking pace, and we were not allowed to deviate from the path to explore so we were not able to view things properly. Let me know if your POE’s were like this as well guys, I am genuinely curious! 

The Busan people at the UN Memorial Gardens.

Next was the Busan Museum. Once again we were shooed through so I don’t remember much about it at all! To be fair to Mr. Choi though, he did stop and explain the exhibits to me when I asked him. My favourite was when I asked him about a picture that depicted the Japanese taking over Busan during the Korean/Japanese war and after telling me about it he says “but we win in the end!” with a maniacal grin on his face. I’m glad he is pleased. I will need to go back and walk through it at my own pace, I guess it is somewhere to take people when/if they visit! (I’m sure they will come if they here that). Then we moved to the APEC House. It was pretty, but mostly I was excited about the lemonade Mr. Choi bought us! Best lemonade ever. Lastly was the beach, which I think was just some kind of sick torture, because we were allowed to look at the water but not actually touch it. Mean.

The next day with our free time, Tyson, Dustin, Jung and I went to the beach in order to touch the water. Exciting times! Beaches in Korea are a bit different then the ones back home. There is only a certain place that you are actually allowed to go swimming in, and if you make the mistake of moving past the buoys then the lifeguards descend on you blowing their whistles and screaming in Korean (apparently most Koreans can’t actually swim, they just float around aimlessly in the water). This wouldn’t be much of a problem except it seemed that all of Korea and their dogs were out in the water the day we were there. The water was also very dirty, I was fine with it until I saw a little red worm float by followed by what I really, really hope was a balloon, after that I couldn’t get out of the water quickly enough!

The next day was back to lectures. Oh how I missed you lectures, what a reassuring presence you are. We also went to the Busan Global Village which is a type of English immersion school. They had things like a fake hotel, airport, bus station, police station and hospital where the students could practise their conversations in an “actual” situation. I must admit, if we had something like that at my school I might be able to say more than “Bonjour” (or not if my trip to Tahiti is to be believed). They also had an English library! I am well pleased about this fact. I might be able to read a book again in a few days.

We met our co-teachers on the last couple of days. I have two, named Sue and Liz (I confess that for the life of me I cannot say their Korean names, I’m a terrible person). They are sweethearts, and were both very worried about me setting up a house by myself (I’m starting to think that I really do look completely incapable of looking after myself). Liz has a sister overseas and she says she understands how lonely it is living by yourself so she sends me e-mails and checks up on me a lot. They have both taught before so I am hoping they will be a big help. Sue and I had to do a  trial class in front of some of the other Busan people, we worked well together, I am glad she is so easy going. Unfortunately they will only be in class with me once a week each (Sue on Friday and Liz on Tuesday, we think), so I will have to handle the little rug-rats all by my lonesome!

Sue is the girl sitting down.

 

OK, I still have to tell you all about my new house, school, mentor teacher and kids but I am getting sick of typing now so I will leave it until I have taught a few classes.

Congratulations if you made it this far! It’s 2400 (or so) words, If you read it all you should leave a comment because I really owe you a cookie (I won’t get you one of course, but you know, the thought is there).

Now to find a USB stick (not a pen drive, Kayla, you spaz.) so I can actually upload this!

Miss you + love you xx