Merry sort- of Christmas

Merry eight days after Christmas my little ducklings! How was it? Did it rain onto your BBQ's? Did you play a nice friendly game of cricket/rugby/tiddlywinks which ended in a screaming match? Did some tosser wake you up at 6am in order to open a few measly presents? Did alcoholic Uncle Kev smash little Timmy's head into a shelf? (that one might have been from an drinking ad. . . ) Did the Christmas lights fall down? Did you eat so much pavlova that you thought your stomach might just explode? Did your Mum make you wear the flimsy paper hat from the Christmas cracker? Did you get sunburnt? Or whatever it is that people in the Northern Hemisphere do (I'm guessing it's drink a lot of eggnog, sit in front of the fireplace and complain about the cold until the burning rage that you are spewing warms the very cockles of your heart, correct me if I am wrong). Was it amazing?

My Christmas, thanks for asking, was slightly underwhelming. Korea doesn't really celebrate the holiday in the way I have become accustomed, it is mostly reserved for couples, as if Valentine's and Pepero Day weren't enough for the greedy little hope suckers (nothing worse than people in couples. I hate you all.) This means that everything remained open, people still had to work and I only got out of my responsibilities with the little Muppets due to the fact that the 25th fell on a Saturday this year (basically a Christmas miracle). It is a very strange feeling to be in the middle of town on Christmas Day and still have a million people milling about, it takes away from the magic feeling that always accompanies the day for me, though it must be extremely gratifying for the people who don't celebrate Christmas, that they don't have to stop their lives just because everyone else tells them they have to. Something about having all the people about made it hard to believe it actually was the holiday season. It wasn't even as good as the Christmas I spent in Tahiti where my host family hated me and gave me a Barbie doll for a present. I jest, they were lovely and very kind, but to this day I'm not sure what they thought I was going to do with the doll at 15 years old, perhaps put on my own production of Shortland Street? (To my American friends-Shorty Street is a terrible, terrible soap made in New Zealand, about a hospital where all the doctors don't have a single brain cell to rub together and they spend their times swapping STIs and pregnancy scares throughout the building) 


Don't get me wrong though, I did have a lovely day with the Ulsan crew. While I missed out on seeing Shalini, who I am pretty sure has gone through her share of diseases for the next fifteen years, I did get to catch up with Annie (who I was convinced lived in Ulsan for the longest time) Ben, Clara, Jihee, Nicole, Tiff, Yuri and meet Yuri's boyfriend Craig who tells me that he referred to me as Kiwi Strawberry until he could actually remember my name (props for the honesty, though I have yet to decide if the nickname was actually a good thing or not). It was wonderful seeing them all, especially since I hadn't seen some of them for months. We had a few lovely meals, scarred those in hearing distance with our nora-bang skills and generally frolicked about the city being rambunctious.

I don't actually have anything to say here, but on
my computer, if I add a caption then everything sits
together nicely. I hope your computer displays everything
the same as mine, the one at school doesn't and it makes
it all a mess. . . . rambling done.

 

 And while I loved every minute of it, it just didn't really scream Christmas to me. Upon saying that I'm not sure how Christmas sounds (though right now I have visions of Santa, Elves, reindeer, baby Jesus and other Christmas type icons screeching "CHRIIIIIIIIISTMASSSSSSS" at me in progressively more annoying voices. Go figure) but I suppose the lack of family takes away some of the holiday cheer. In my family at least, big holidays usually end in a screaming match, somebody crying, somebody throwing stuff and somebody storming off and slamming doors but still, nothing like the familiar to make a holiday. 

Also I have a bit of a confession to make, when I first came to Korea one of my first fully formed thoughts was that I would finally get a white Christmas. I think the idea of having snow on the 25th is more a by product from years of tacky cards showing Santa on snow and families huddled around the fireplace rather than any real wish to freeze to death on the holidays, but either way I was pretty freaking excited at the thought. But I was to be denied as usual (I have some sort of very specific snow curse on me, and whenever I travel to a place that is usually a snow hot spot (ha), the weather stops in its tracks and the skies clear up, then a few days after I leave the snow will be back in full force. My favourite time this happened was when I was once in Dunedin, my friend told me it hadn't snowed for months, but I was pretty convinced it was going to and I was right, it snowed the moment I stepped off my airplane in Wellington . . .) and while the weather was cold enough to turn you blue, there was no snow to be seen. The heart mourns. Though it did snow here in Busan on Thursday, I was well excited. I would have gone outside and pranced about like a four year old in the falling frozen water if I wasn't having lunch with my mentor teacher at the time. She bundled me inside as apparently magical or not snow is something to be avoided under any circumstance.  My mentor teacher has now decided that I am incredibly "strange" (I add the quote marks to illustrate the fact that she did in fact say this, I am not exaggerating in order to make a better story (as I am won't to do), I think the actual quote was "That's OK Shayna, I know you are strange but. . . you know. . . . " No Joanne, I don't know! Finish the sentence don't leave me hanging. . . ) but I don't care, I'm still embracing childlike wonderment at the snow falling. (For the record it snows all the time in New Zealand, but my Mum is bitterly opposed to it so I am left thinking it is something that only happens on TV during Christmas time. I'm sure if I lived in Dunedin I wouldn't be half as impressed by the small amount of snow fall in Busan).

The snow didn't even settle, but that is probably for the best since I have giant holes in my shoes. Again.

While I am here, updating the blog for the first time in a month or so (I know right?) I suppose I should mention Winter camp as well. "Winter camp" is a bit of a misdirect though, because with a title such as it is, I had visions of  cabins and bonfires and general merriment. The truth of the matter is that the "camp" is another name for classes, just held during winter holidays, and for a special treat they are double the length of regular lessons, huzzah! We generally just play games, Fruit Basket, Pictionary, Hide the letters, Simon says that sort of thing and these kids actually know a word or two in English, so we get by better than I did with my first graders. Though in two weeks I have three hour classes with two students. Two students?! It seems a bit pointless, but I still don't have it as bad as Rachel, who has to stay at school by herself for seven or so hours. She doesn't even have any work to do, they actually expect her to take a nap or spend time playing on the DS, or generally wasting time. When asked why she is there the reply is always "It's in her CONTRACT!!" Oh Korea. . .

Jason is the cutest kid ever, he was the only one never to  make a fuss about playing on the girls team, and when we had our last class he shook my hand. Hahahahaha.

I am impressed by the way that girl can jump and bend her leg, mad skills. Yeah, that's me up there, working hard. . .

My second, third grade class. Me spoiling the photo with "that stupid peace sign".

 So how is it all going for everyone? Let me know! Also on a completely unrelated note, can somebody explain this monstrosity I saw parked outside the school the other day?

A radio with wheels? What the. . .?