Open Classes

Last week I had to do a practice open class – this means that I had to teach a class (two classes, actually), while all three of my bosses watched. It was nerve wrecking, to say the least. The night before I couldn't sleep I was so worried about messing up, or about them deciding that I was actually a terrible teacher and sending me home.

When I finally got into my first open class (with Apricot, the four year olds) I was a wreck. Luckily, it was just Debbie that was watching me, Mr. and Mrs. Kim had been caught up in something and couldn't make it. The lesson was about fruits – the kids were learning to say 'I like bananas' or 'I like apples', etc. Everything was going fine until Lukas interrupted me – he pointed out the window and said, “Teacher, look! Helicopter!”

I just got this feeling of 'uh oh'. I knew I had seconds to get the class back on task before the lot of them (eight kids now!) were pressing their little noses against the windows and completely ignoring me. Because, come, who can compete with a helicopter? I asked Lukas “Can you EAT a helicopter?” they all started giggling and saying 'no, teacher!' and we were back on track.

Even though I was freaking out, the whole thing went rather well. When I was talking about it afterwards with Debbie, she said that I was a natural with the kids (although when she first said it, I thought it was a criticism because the way Debbie says things, sometimes its hard to tell). She also mentioned when Lukas interrupted and I was expecting criticism about letting him distract the class but she said she was impressed with the way I handled it. She said that I managed to bring the class back without scolding Lukas for speaking up. Since these are four year olds, the feeling is they should be free to express themselves.

The second class was more harrowing because I had all three of them (Debbie, Mr. and Mrs. Kim) watching me. The kids were great though (this was Kiwi class, the five year olds) and did their best to repeat what I was saying. This was a problem when I forgot a month of the year. We were doing a lesson on the months and I was writing them up one by one when Debbie and Mrs. Kim started laughing. I was wondering what was so funny and I stopped but they didn't say anything so I started to keep going until Debbie said “May?”

I looked at the board and it went from April to June without anything in between. I was mortified. I swear I know the months of the year! I felt like telling them, I passed kindergarten, I swear!

Despite this, that class, too, went well. Debbie didn't even mention my mistake in the meeting after. I hope she understood I was just super nervous.

Either way, that was just the dry run.

On Tuesday, I had the real thing with Kiwi class and I had to have conferences with their parents afterwards. Everything went well - I didn't forget any months this time - except that I was too fast. I only did about 15 minutes. This seemed to bother me more than anybody else, however. Either that or they were too polite to bring it up, which would be very typically Korean of them.

I got to meet the Kiwi kid's parents, which was an interesting experience. For the most part they were great and not many of them spoke English. Most of the questions were relayed to me through my co-teacher, Lynn, and back again. Lynn asked all the parents, in Korean, if they have questions for me. One parent, whose kid is one of the biggest behavior problems in the class and is having the most trouble learning English, turned to me and asked, “How is my son's behavior in your class?” in perfect, unaccented English. Someone should check the mailman.

Tomorrow (My birthday! ~_~) I have to do the Apricot Open Class. This one I am less worried about because they are four and not much could possibly be expected of four year olds. Plus I am way more comfortable with them then with Kiwi.

I am really interested in meeting Apricot parents, too. Abby's mother is there every day, but her husband is coming and apparently they lived in Farifax, VA, for a while. I want to talk to them about that. The new girl, Clare's, parents spoil her rotten and write notes to Lynn on a daily basis about what she does at home and asking for updates from school. Lukas' mother apparently likes me, if last month's Lukas-getting-scratched-in-the-face episode was any indication. Kris' sister goes to our school, too, but I've never met her. I'd just like to see what kind of people spawned such a devious little creature. Kevin's mother was here for a while being lunch lady so I've met her and she seems pretty nice. Paul's brother is just as much of a sweetheart as he is – I have him in one of my later classes – so I'm very interested in meeting people who raised such awesome human beings. All in all, it’s going to be an interesting day.

On that note, I leave you with this, which I thought of when the Helicopter incident happened. This guy is a teacher and a spoken word poet and all his pieces are amazing. If you choose to browse further I would recommend 'like, you know?' and 'what teacher's make'. Or this one which I just watched that gave me goosebumps.

I Am Adding 'Child Wrangler' to My Resume

I always love field trip days - its a win-win situation. Either you go with the kids wherever they are going and you aren't really expected to do anything but be a kid wrangler - which is very similar to herding cats. Cats with bladders the size of peanuts - Or you get the morning off.

Today, we went to Everland, which is basically like Disney world minus the characters. When they told me I would be accompanying the kids, I wasn't too excited - I'm not generally a big fan of theme parks - but I was glad for the break and I had been wanting to see Everland. Stephanie, Ryan and I were going to go over Chuseok, but Stephanie and Korea had it out and she ended up in the hospital and couldn't go.

The place is huge and has three different sections. We were in the sections with the roller coasters and the botanical gardens. The kids were really impressed by the roller coasters but since they range in age from 4-7, they couldn't really go on any. There was a kiddie one that everyone went on except for two of my Apricots who I had to physically restrain for the ten minutes the ride took because they kept wanting to wander off. I have a whole new appreciation for those little loops on the back of backpacks.

We rode the roller coaster and a ride where they spun you around in plastic jets and you could use a lever to move yourself up and down. I had to go on that one because they wouldn't let some of the kids ride unless they had an adult with them. This seems to be how all of Korea works. Kids can do whatever they want - ride in the front seat of a car unrestrained, for example - as long as there is an adult nearby.

We ate lunch at this cafe that I think was supposed to be English themed (it had a lovely view of the rose garden and the sign said it was a 'coffee and tea trading post') but the waitresses, though they were wearing long skirts with aprons that could be considered old-time-y and British, were also wearing blazers with loopy embroidery reminiscent of the American West. On top of that the walls were covered with beautiful art nouveau prints which are decidedly French (hence the name). It was a nice place, with a patient staff who were never too far away to clean up a spill (and there were many).

We saw several parades while we were there; the costumes were extraordinary and... ridiculous. Extraordinarily ridiculous. I wish I had gotten more pictures of them but my camera decided it had had enough halfway through and claimed it had no batteries left. The kids loved it, of course and were stunned into stillness, which I appreciated.

I was surprised to see that a lot of the performers were foreigners like me. I asked Lynn about it and she said that a lot of the performers were from Uzbekistan and Russia. I had to wonder what their lives are like, living in a foreign country in order to act silly and entertain kids. And then I thought, their lives are probably a lot like mine.

We ended things in a haunted house - the theme for the months of September and October was Halloween, except it was more like someone heard the idea of Halloween, decided to do it in neons and pastels, and made it so that everything was happy and smiling instead of scary. Nevertheless, I went through the haunted house with Kevin on one hand and two Kiwi girls, Julie and Tay on the other. It was dark but all that was in there was glowing panels with happy or silly ghost faces that would move only if you pressed a button. The girls were a bit scared but poor little Kevin was terrified. At one point, when the girls were arguing over who got my one hand that was not holding Kevin, the poor little kid just gave up and put his hands over his face and stood perfectly still so nothing would come after him. I took pity on him and got us all out of there as fast as possible. He still wouldn't let go of my hand for a solid hour after that.

Halfway through the day, I had asked Lynn when we were getting back. Kindergarten ended at 2:15pm and I had to be back for classes at 2:40. Lynn casually mentioned that they would probably get on the bus about 3:30pm and be back at school by 4:00pm. I briefly wondered if they expected me to make it back to school on my own somehow (not as far fetched as you might imagine) before Lynn explained that Debbie would be taking my classes today.

So, essentially, I had the day off to go to Everland. On the other hand, it DOES NOT feel like I had the day off. It feels like I spent the day running around a theme park chasing after children with the attention span of ferrets with ADHD. I will eventually get some pictures up here but, right now, I am too tired to even write a interesting or witty blog post. I will sleep on it and then return with more interesting things to say.

Duck, Duck, Goose!

If you are a grown up - and I am assuming most of you are - you may have forgotten the joys of childhood games. Games like duck, duck, goose for instance. Duck, duck, goose has hidden depths that, though you appreciate them as a child, your grown-up mind discards this appreciation for more grown up things like golf or driving over the speed limit.

The game appeals to the trickster in us all. Here everyone is, sitting in an orderly circle and someone comes along with their anti-social behavior and creates lawlessness and disorder. Screaming, running, kicking, and pulling spread like an epidemic through the once peaceful circle. And just when you think that things will never be the same it all snaps back into place. Social norms are restored. The only memory of the complete and total anarchy that took hold a moment before is the maniacal gleam in everyone's eye and the person circling around the outside of all that organization ready to start the cycle all over again. It reminds us that civilization is always just waiting for its cue to become chaos.

Duck, duck, goose has recently become one of my very favorite games.

When I was in India, my friend Amanda and I introduced duck duck goose to the girls at All Bengal and you have never seen a group of girls more excited. It didn't last because the older girls soon figured out that it was more fun when you get caught and have to play another round then if you actually succeed in out running the person you 'goosed'.

In Korea, it’s a game commonly played in school yards. Yesterday, I was playing it with the kindergarteners who still have that enthusiasm for winning that surpasses all planes of logic.

We went to a pine forest near our school so that the kindergarteners could get some fresh air. At first I was in charge of Kiwi class but Apricot would not stop following me around so they had to switch it up so I was once more responsible for the three musketeers - Kevin, Kris and Min. Or actually, its Paul now. Min inexplicably changed his name to Paul.

When it was time to get in a circle for duck duck goose, we started out sitting properly but within three minutes I had all three of them on my lap while they played with dirt and threw rocks like four year old boys everywhere.

Min - or Paul or whatever name he's operating under these days - was one of the first to be chosen and I had to gesture wildly to make him understand that he was supposed to chase the person who 'goosed' him. When he didn't catch him, he came back to me looking heartbroken. I had to reassure him that catching the person who 'goosed' you was not really the point of the game. It was all about the chase. He didn't understand me, of course, so I moved on.

He didn't know how to play so I just told him to go up to William Teacher and yell 'goose!' then start running around the circle. He understood me but kept on looking back at me, like he wasn't sure he was supposed to be yelling anything at teachers and this was some kind of test.

He walked over to William and stood behind him for a good minute, staring intently like a psycho, the wheels in his little brain turning while William tried to pretend he wasn't there. Finally, he managed to shout 'goose!' and took off around the circle.

After falling several times (I chose William because I knew he would slow down and let Min win) he had made it halfway around the circle and back to where I was. He promptly dove into my lap like I was his own personal home base. I tried to tell him to keep running but he was so pleased with himself that he wasn't listening. Eventually, we just let it go.

But for the rest of the game whenever Kris, Kevin or Min were picked, they would only run right back to me instead of around the circle like they were supposed to. It was pretty cute.

The Gym Incident

I joined a gym yesterday, which was a positive step in general and, all in all, I'm really glad I did. This didn't stop my first real experience in the gym from being horrifying.

I got there at about 10 am and there was more people then the last time I was there. Someone was even on the lone elliptical shoved in between the 40 treadmills and 25 cycle machines. So decided to try a treadmill instead. All the treadmills in the place have these huge flat screens hanging above them so every person has their own individual television, which was pretty cool, I thought. I got on one and was going at a good clip, flipping channels at the same time, when I'm suddenly staring at this very graphic video of something giving birth. LOUDLY.

I, silly foreigner that I am, had assumed that the volume on the TV was off because I couldn't hear it. Little did I know that all it needed was the right station and viola! the whole gym could hear the grunts the creature was making.

Instinctively, I covered my eyes and jammed my finger onto the up channel button again and again. The channel didn't change no matter how many times I pressed it. But the speed of the treadmill did. In my blind panic I had actually been jamming my finger on the up speed button. The treadmill picked up speed then, getting so fast that I could no longer reach the correct button to either change the channel or stop the treadmill.

I can only imagine the image that I gave everyone. Here's this foreign chick running flat out on the treadmill waving her arms wildly at the screen which, through carefully crafted camera angles, was not missing a minute of the birth of baby whatever-it-was. The walls practically resounded with the noises the creature was making.

Unfortunately, I am not making this up. I did not see this on a Mr. Bean rerun. It is all too clearly playing in my mind over and over as I type this.

On the one hand, I now know - in living color - what it looks like when a kiwi gives birth to an egg that is 2/3rds its body size. On the other, now at least 15 Koreans think that American girls are lunatics.

Misadventures with Korean Children

Its strange how affectionate little Korean kids can be with adults they barely know. Today it seemed like all I did was yell at this one kid - Felix. I told him to be quiet, I told him to stand in the corner, I told him to stop hitting Andy, I told him to pay attention for one freaking second. After the day was over and the kindergarteners were gone I figured I was free of him for a least a couple hours. But, of course, he ended up waiting for his big sister who was in the afternoon classes.

Through a crazy random happenstance, I had a free period and was trying to ignore the fact that Felix existed. For one thing I was sick of yelling at him and for another I was sure he was sick of me yelling. I manage to forget he's there as I become engrossed in the book I was reading and the popcorn I was eating (Korea does popcorn right, nothing but a hint of sugar on it).

Suddenly, I feel something pushing on my arm. I look down in time to see Felix push his head through the gap between my elbow and my side, like a dog. He gives me his cheekiest smile and proceeds to practically climb into my lap.

"Haven't you had enough of me today?" I ask him. Of course, he doesn't respond because he's five and doesn't speak a word of English. But he does make a sound which I interpreted correctly as an 'I'm bored' sound. That's how Felix and I communicate most of time - that is, when I'm not screaming at him - through grunts, charades and facial expressions. He's the smartest kid in Kiwi class and understands a lot more of what I say then the others do. Not like he acts on it or anything but I know he understands. The problem with him is that he's so smart he finished his assignment and gets bored, and when he's bored he likes to cause trouble; hence the yelling.

He continued to lean into me until I relented to his cuteness. I ruffled his hair and gave him some of my popcorn. Stupid Korean kids and their irresistible cuteness.

But thats how most kids act here. You can yell at them all day long but once you are out of the classroom you are their bestest friend.

On an only slightly related note, I was reminded the other day that Koreans actually add a year on to a persons age - or rather they count the time you are in your mother's belly as year one and they go from there. So, the kids I teach in Apricot are actually four years old as opposed to five. Which explains a lot.

Today, one of them, Kevin, started crying for no reason. He wouldn't let me open his lunch box for him and wouldn't do it himself. When I finally got fed up, I opened it for him. Now, the last time Kevin started crying it was because he'd just peed his pants so - having learned my lesson the first time - I was quick to take a step away. But this time he didn't pee his pants and there was nothing visibly wrong with him, only he kept repeating the same thing over and over again in Korean.

This was a job, I figured, for a Korean teacher. But when I tracked one down she just sat there and stared at Kevin for a while as he repeated himself over and over again. I asked her what was wrong, she gave me a bewildered look and shrugged. "I don't understand his Korean."

Here I stop and think to myself "how, exactly, am I supposed to teach him complicated grammar concepts in a foreign language when he doesn't even speak his native language?" All I say out loud is 'oh'.

Luckily, his mother was there (she's like the lunch lady) and she sorted it out. I never did figure out what was wrong, though. Life is a well of tears; its a fountain of despair and turning four is not all its cracked up to be.

I didn't do anything for April Fools day this year. Last year, I posted on Facebook that I was moving to Morocco and what ensued was hilarity times ten. It helped that my roommate (Dani - I miss you!) was helping to egg everyone on. I was considering posting something on here to mess with whoever may be reading but since I'm so far removed that reassurance is more than just a phone call away I will refrain.

Korean Food

On most days I eat the same lunch that the kids are having, not just because its too much of a hassle to plan to have my own ready and eat it in the 30 seconds of free time I have between classes, but also because I want to try real Korean food and this is a pretty good way to do it. Most days it involves rice, a kind of soup, Kimchi (fermented cabbage, Korea’s national food), and a couple other sides. Today, the soup didn’t look like soup and smelled really familiar for some reason. They kept on calling it ‘curry’ but that didn’t sound right to me. Halfway through eating it I realized that it was dhal, a kind of lentil dish that Indian people ate with almost every meal. Hence why it smelled so familiar. I ate that stuff everyday for five months straight.

The Korean teachers are all impressed that I’m eating what they are eating (can’t lie, so am I) and the American teachers keep saying things like ‘oh god, don’t eat the _____ its disgusting!’ and then I try it, and its nothing that foreign. A good example of this is the ‘curry’. They kept on saying don’t try it! Its not like normal curry, it tastes weird! And in all reality its much closer to curry than anything they’ve ever tasted.

While I’m on the subject of food I might as well add that Koreans seem to love pizza – or rather, their idea of pizza which is not really our idea of pizza. I have been told several million times by my coworkers that Korean pizza is terrible, it nothing like our pizza, yadda, yadda, yadda. Since in my opinion their judgment is suspect, due to the aforementioned ‘curry’ incident, I decided to try for myself. I ordered 'Italian cheese pizza' which seemed pretty straight forward – bread, sauce, cheese, done – and except for the addition of kernels of corn baked into the cheese (wtf Seoul?) and being really greasy it was pretty normal. However, the other pizzas I saw were nothing like what I was used to. Some had strange toppings, some had weird looking crusts and some had things like mayonnaise and mustard swirled on the top.

Koreans also seem to enjoy meat snacks of all varieties. Jerky of all kinds and flavors (Squid Jerky!) can be found at any convenience store and one of these days I will get up the courage to try some. They also have these awesome 'yogurt drinks' which I am addicted to. Some taste more like milk than yogurt but all are equal in deliciousness.

I was in Lotte Mart (Asia's answer to Wall-Mart) which is about five stories tall and takes up two city blocks and I was looking for something to make my hair not freak out at all the humidity. I was unsuccessful in that but I did find 'squid ink', a kind of shampoo made from, well, squid ink, that is supposed to be good for you hair. I almost bought it out of sheer curiosity but it was a huge bottle so I though it was probably a bad idea.

Tomorrow, I have to take the two youngest classes to the 'Recycling Museum'. Just me. With about 15 kids who don't speak English. Fun. I'm not sure whose the conductor in this Orchestra of Crazy but I'm pretty sure they aren't paying attention.