Riding the Hair of the Dog

Riding the high of dog hair here are unedited and regrettable(but permanent) New Year's resolutions:

Renew:
I love where I live, and I dread the idea of looking for a job back home. Thus, I'm motivating myself to the bitter end to run everything, provide the best I can offer to my school and its prodigies. Its at teh point where I think I need Korea more than it needs me. Silly drunk talk, Korea needs me, but I need this too. Ultimately, I will begin processes ASAP and sell myself like a ho-for-sho. This is my first resolution because this needs to happen before anything else.

Parlez-vous Francais ou Franglais?
Let's hope so! I'll get a French as a Second Language Adavnce Qualification so maybe I won't need Korea for my whole life. As a bilingual Canadian I'm pretty integral for school boards as they teach the new Latin. I remember leaving high school and being all efffff French never taking you again, but now I miss it. I've been trying to think in French and I can still do that so I feel that I can wrap my head around teaching it too. The grammar is intense, as are the 'accords' as zee French say, but I think that's an aspect of the language I find really fascinating, and delicate.

Stable Stacy:
That will be the name of my Korean guitar, I don't care where I find it, or how it lands in my hands, I want a Guitar to call my own. It will happen before the end of the January, once I get back from the 'pines. And her name shall be Stable Stacy, she will maintain my sanity, I'm sick of watching Netflix with idle hands. Its either a guitar or I learn how to knit, something's gotta give though.

Bring it:
I feel I've been lethargic off the bottle and I think I make up for it when I'm on it. This is obviously a problem I need to address. Since I'm slurping the final drops of the infamous bottle, hearing the stories that have left my memory then laughing and hanging my head (apparently I ate more than one coaster last night). I haven't been able to stay off it for more than 6 days at the most since I've landed here but I plan to stock my fridge with juices and other non-alcoholic products. Sorry I know you're not a shrink. I'll bring the best of me 12 hours prior to when I usually do.

Happy New Year peoples of Earth!!
May 2013 bring you lots of ..... stuff, good stuff

Oh yeah, I'll aim for 9+ blogs a month to break 100 for the year. Keep me on your tabs, hopefully I don't break

Airports

To be honest, I hate flying. I'm never comfortable, the food portions are for toddlers, the stupid airline safety presentation I've memorized, (the fact that its two languages back home is even more aggravating, there isn't a soul who only speaks French in Canada) and sometimes you're waiting so long your clothes go out of style. Books and games on your phone help, but it only takes you so far. There are a lot of precautions, I understand that, and there's no harm in being careful so I'm happy about that. But one day I'm pulling aGreg Focker hassling pompous flight attendants and say some red flag words 8,000 times. This adventure though was by far the most frustrating thing I have ever dealt with in terms of airports.

Yesterday a friend since high school flew from Edinburgh, Scotland to London, England, to Incheon (a suburb of Seoul) and then to Busan for his winter vacation. His itinerary said his plane arrived in Busan at 6. Now in Busan there are two airports, one is for domestic and one is for international flights. I walked into the domestic airport first and inquired if a plane is coming from Seoul  where would it land. through broken English he explained that Incheon flights will land in the international airport, while flights from Gimpo, the domestic airport in Seoul will come here. I walk over to the international airport and continue reading my book.

Sidebar:

This is one of the slowest books I've read in my life. And I’ve read Dickens. Maybe I'm just not sold on the characters but the book is called Junk and they have just started doing Heroin half way through. Honestly Burgess, get it together, if Gemma could she'd have popped that needle in her the second she got off the coach she's such a mental case. Believe me, I've met a number of people living vicariously through her. She's just a little faster.

As time drew on and people began coming out of baggage claim I was expecting my friend to be one of the first because he absolutely hates waiting and will hustle his way through most processes. I waited and waited until the Incheon flight disappeared of the screen. He was nowhere to be found. Did I read his itinerary right?  I paced through the whole arrival section. Nowhere. Looking at the board there was another flight from Incheon for 8:20, an hour away. I knew I couldn't go back home so I ate some shitty chicken looking at the doors from baggage claim the entire time. Still nothing. I was sure he was supposed to be here for 6. I went to find the internet cafe and checked my emails. 3 new messages, all from him. 

I've been at the airport for almost an hour, where the fuck are you?

That was sent 2 hours ago. Yikes. I emailed him my phone number and told him to call me. Obviously his phone from Scotland doesn't have reception so he was calling me from a information booth. I set up a meeting point and he agreed. I waited there for 15 minutes with my cell phone in my hand waiting for the next call. He definitely wasn't in this building. Then at the other end I see his long stride and bright blue gym bag.

"I was in the domestic airport"

"What?"

"It’s a long story."

"Wanna beer?"

"I'd love one."

It certainly was: the gist of it was his connecting flight from Incheon to Busan apparently didn't exist so they sent him to the Gimpo airport on a shuttle bus where he arrived twenty minutes before the flight. Gimpo is the domestic airport in Seoul, and he landed in the Domestic Airport in Busan. Thankfully, the airports are right next to each other. Now, all that matters is he made it here in one piece here and I get a roommate for the next week and a half. We both had stressful days and concluded it with some Korean BBQ and Bavarian beers in the fine district of KSU. This series of events are very bizarre and somewhat unbelievable, so unbelievable you would think it would never happen! 

All and all airports suck.

As I introduced him to people from my orientation they all asked, "How was your flight?" because it was so frustrating we alternated telling the story. Its a good thing emails exist or else this could have been the worst experience of his life, next time someone visits I'll be sure to brief them "that anything can happen, so call when it does." Jet lag and all, it is good to have an old friend down here for the holidays. 

Happy Holidays Everyone!  

They always hit a soft spot.

Although I have no school today since everyone gets the day off to go and vote in the Presidential election, I miss my office, the teachers, the children and the drive to do some actual work.

So here's something from the heart, or, to be clever, the brain. As the school year winds down in Korea and winter break is only two days away, lessons have been becoming less and less like academic lessons. My CT wanted a movie that was easy to understand, educational and interesting ranking in that order. Since all the movies I was allowed to pick were Disney or Pixar from the twenty first century, I explained that I will pick a morally educating film. I decided to show the kids a segment of Toy Story 3 accompanied with a list of comprehension questions and new vocabulary to define in Korean and write out (you'd be surprised how many misspell these words or colloquialisms even though they're written on the page).

The segment I selected was near the end of the film where - spoiler alert - the toys travel through a garbage dump and nearly meet their demise before they are saved by the Pizza Planet Aliens. For the record, Toy Story  was one of my favourite movies growing up and even with the reasonably low expectations I had for other Disney sequels I couldn't help but believe that Hanks wouldn't lend his talents to a stinker. Fortunately I was right. Even after watching the same mise-en-scene of Rex, Mr. and Ms. Potatohead, Bullseye, Ham, Slink, Jessie, Buzz and Woody all holding hands in a circle, waiting to burn away, it always hits me. This moment of togetherness is just really touching to me. Seeing this moment almost puts me back to watching Toy Story on VHS on a television with knobs and no remote. Happy times, when life was simple, apart from having to hang-up your phone before you could use the internet.

However, these kids obviously have a much more detached relationship to Woody and the gang. As they watch there's no sense of enthrallment or worry, just some back row commentary. One of the baseball players at my school got a little watery-eyed which made me smile. Having to teach one lesson 9 times is a little irritating but watching this action packed exert will make the final 2 days zoom by. And if I get bored (not likely) I think I'll just read to myself at the front of the room (Junk by Melvin Burgess, not bad so far).       

(Trying something new) Fumes

For this little mission I'm tapping into my inner Cormac McCarthy, author of The Road.

Friday morning was just like every morning. Easy and bleak. Hit the snooze button the maximum number of times then get up. The waygook looked out his east facing window. Darkness. This was new. After showering it was still dark. He turned the light on in the morning for the first time since he'd been there. The waygook ate quietly, got dressed, brushed his teeth, turned the light off, and left.

The waygook moved slowly to the elevator, tying his shoes as he waited. Going down in the elevator the waygook adjusted his tie but it never made a difference. He needed a new tie, but didnt care enough at this point. The tank was running low.

The waygook stopped at an empty coffee joint. He was familiar with the proceeding. But yet again, today was different.
     Drip or americano?
     Drip, the waygook said unsure of himself.
He didnt question it while mixing in the milk in. The first taste was horrible. A patch of pure bitterness sat on his tongue. The next sip was tepid water. He contemplated pouring it out but new this was his energy for the morning. Perhaps the day.

The waygook managed to get a seat on the subway and started reading the tail-end of his book. His uneasiness for the characters kept him turning the pages. After he got out from the underground the sky was still just as bleak and grey. The air was still getting warmer. The waygook felt as though he were walking down the same road as his characters. He didnt have to breath in ashes though. Patting his chest he realized what he had forgotten. The key to his easy day. He could picture the USB drive sitting on his table. The waygook contemplated taking a taxi home to get it. Walking into the courtyard snipped the progress of idea to action. He was already late.

With a long sigh the waygook marched inside dropped his things onto an empty chair and marched upstairs to the specialists office. While walking he was contemplating methods to hide the fact he had nothing prepared or present. Jeopardy he thought. He knew it was the only way. Sitting at his desk waiting for the computer to warm up he sketched the categories, the questions, the answers. It was all there. Now the waygook needed his ancient computer to cooperate. Closing the messenger that enrages him everyday. The computer picked up the pace. The waygook copied and pasted his pictures, questions and answers as he had planned with no set backs. He had 15 minutes to spare before his first class. Now the waygook needed to send it to the computer in his classroom. Attaching the email took far too long. The first break bell had gone by the time he got to his classroom. Children already at the door.

The children were excited. Drawing all over the chalkboard and whiteboard. Meanwhile rubbing elbows with the waygook. They were transfixed on the big screen connected to the computer watching the waygook frantically typing his way through sign in pages, attachment protocol, and dueling with the infamous Korean option on the keyboard as it reset with every new page. He could have screamed until he was hoarse. He closed his eyes once the game saved to the desktop.

The co-teacher enters right after my entire ordeal. Unaware that the waygook was completely unprepared. Friday was finally on his side.

Every class was off the wall. The waygook and the co-teacher channeled this energy through dance. Turn the  door knob and twist the light bulb to Feliz Navidad. Once lunch arrived the waygook never wanted to hear that song again. There were only fumes in the tank.

The lunch menu was made for a king. Japchae Noodles, a milder kimchi, plain cucumbers, sticky rice, and apple pastries. The waygook barely chewed it. The teacher eating across from the waygook mentioned something.
     It's really raining outside.
     It will stop before 4.
     How do you know?
     I just hope, the waygook said looking up from his food and crossing his fingers.
     Ha ha ha ha.
(Stepping outside Cormac, some Koreans actually laugh like this.)

The afternoon rolled by slowly. The waygook was happy he finished the book but drowsily dipped in and out of the narrative. On the last page he wasnt sure if he understood the final scope of the fictitious world. The waygook left early to go to the bank to pay his bills. There was a way to do it after hours, but he didnt know how. The rain was ever-present when the waygook left the school. Thankfully he always packed an umbrella. The waygook walked on the curbs whenever he could. Eyeing the dry spots on the warped roads. When he got to the bank it was barren. The waygook walked up to the closest clerk who looked at the bill and walked him to the machine, entered his pin, watched her hit a sequence of buttons he couldnt read then the waygook thanked the clerk and left.

When he got on the subway he met one of his friends from the very beginning. She looked almost as tired as him. They agreed a vacation needed to happen soon, certain things are ridiculous in this new country, and a bit of gossip.

When the waygook got off at his stop he walked into his apartment and hung up his winter coat and danced out of his work shirt and tie in the warm air of his apartment. He looked at the time and knew he should return his finished book before dinner. He didn't want his shoes to get wet so he wore flip flops out since the weather was mild enough and put a raincoat over his undershirt. He took his umbrella too.

The walk was 15 minutes but it felt much longer. The incline wasnt significant but the water on the ground running in between the sole of his foot and the flip flop was chilling. Then the waygook caught a snag in the road. Disconnecting the strap from the base of the flip flop. The waygook took half a step and knew he couldnt go on like this. Holding the umbrella in between his neck and shoulder he managed to reconnect the strap to the foot pad. Now he could feel the water on his pants and seeping through his jacket. The umbrella was useless but it was better than nothing.

The trip back from the library consisted of the waygook mapping the outline to his blog entry. The patters on his umbrella slowly became thuds of rain. It was coming down in sheets. His thoughts mostly centered around the name of a narration style he neglected to use, and snippets of images long-forgotten. Once the waygook got to his apartment his pants were stuck to his long johns and his long johns were stuck to his legs. He took off his pants, coat and long underwear and laid them on the drying rack.

Now the waygook sits eyes half open giving a half-there stare at his laptop. His fingers are slowing down. He knows the piece needs editing but that can come later. Publish now and fix in the morning. He decides he needs a power nap, or a Red Bull. He choose the Red Bull and went out to play board games and have a couple brews with friends. The waygook caught the subway home and slept soundly until the morning.

TGIF

It's Friday and what a crazy chain of events, all of which are uncorrelated from one another. Either way I'm nearing cloud nine.

Last night, I received a letter in the mail from my father with a card and some tea. Regular tea. Korean tea has herbs, bitter things and ball bearings in the tea-bag. It's not a pleasant morning drink, so I drown it in lemon juice. But today I had regular tea. What a difference that makes! No sourness, just that pleasant Orange Pecot taste. Coming into school, listening to "The Ballad of John and Yoko" I can't help but feel great as I danced through the halls.

For the first class, I was teaching the lesson from the previous day. The first class is one of the low classes. From the start I knew the class would be off the rails. I think I learned 8 things that are excruciatingly important in Teacher's College, one of which is keep your kids in their seat and occupied with something as long as you can, then give them free time after. The first thing my co-teacher does is return the exams they completed yesterday - biggest faux-pas ever. I have never seen a class turn absolutely insane: everyone is running around and shouting, kids are sliding on the floor celebrating a 75 while the genius hold back there tears, hit themselves in the head with books, and scream with anger looking at their 90. I look at my co-teacher while this is happening and she's onto marking the next set of exams. So as I jam my whole body into this crumbling dam literally placing children in their seats one at a time, we manage to get the lesson rolling. Next, one student at the back, who has very poor speaking skills is reading a book at the back. I go on as if nothing is wrong. Something was wrong though, apparently seriously wrong, with this blatant act of defiance. My co-teacher methodically marches over to the student's desk at the back of the class; every head follows her until we’re all fixed on the back corner. She grabs the book out of the student’s hands, opens the window, and throws the book out the window into the court yard. The teacher goes on a rampant tangent in Korean, then returns to the lesson as if nothing happened. Crazzzzzy. After the class she explained that this student does this every class and today was the straw to break the camels back. The rest of the lesson went reasonably well, we played Simon says as a cool down and then let the kids out. 

The second class was a lot of fun, they had tons of energy and enthusiasm towards all the games we played and the videos we watched.

Half way through the third class something happened I didn't expect what so ever. Busan is cold but it usually never snows, or so I’m told. And guess what happens, snow. One kid notices and points to the window, "Teacha, SNOW!" That's the first time he's said something in English via his own will, thank goodness for our lesson on weather. Before I knew it no one was at their desk and crowding at the window. It was a very nostalgic moment imagining my young, Korean, self transfixed on the marvel of fluff dropping from the heavens. Then I remembered, I'm the teacher, I have a lesson to teach, and I will stand by this B+ lesson until I die. Unless it snows. I look at the clock, ten minutes left, I look to my co-teacher she shrugs, so, using youtube, we watched a couple of Disney sing-along Christmas carols until the bell rang.

The same process was implanted for the final class of the day. I shortened my lesson to fit in the Christmas Carol time and then everyone was off to lunch. 

Now I'm here blogging away listening to exerts of Conan and the Lonely Island interviews. The heat remains off in my personal office, but today I feel warm and toasty. Maybe its the extra layer but its probably this feeling that the Holidays are fast approaching, no matter how far I am away from all my loved ones I am confident this will be an excellent December. Still, I'm glad all this didn't happen on a Monday. 

TGIF Everybody! 

Seoul Searching

I traveled to the stunning metropolis of Seoul this weekend and I gotta tell ya its pretty cool but I'd never live there. Perhaps that is a little biased, my travelling amigos and I stayed in a lovely hostel in the heart of the clubbing Hongdae district. Having only seen that aspect of the city, I should say I wouldn't live in that area. Amazingly enough we met a groovy Korean guy with connections up the wazoo and excellent English. We volunteered as token foreigners in a web commercial of some kind for Kimchi products, and afterwards he took us out for drinks with the head manager of all Thursday Parties, most of which were free. Swell times. The night life is unreal, and it was solid fun til the sunrise. Not surprisingly there were way more foreigners around, and they were not with the school boards or hagwons. A plethora of hipsters, grease balls, Middle Easterns, and geezers reliving their younger years. Again though, this was the party district. As for the residents, everyone I talked to spoke English to the capability of my co-teachers, but like Toronto, people are too busy to help you out beyond a finger point and some half-assed directions. When we arrived Friday night it was an overwhelming look: bright lights, a ginormous train station, and hordes of people pushing through and slipping by one another. Part of me wishes I got a picture, but

Lookout point into North Korea, at the edge of the photo line.

The following day we headed out to the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone). Met some odd characters described above and then some regular people. Our tour guide was really interesting, knowledgeable and articulate and showed us tons of cool stuff. Including one of the tunnels North Korea dug underneath the DMZ as a means of invasion. Travelling down into the tunnel was a trek and more novel than anything else. In fact the whole trip was just to say "I went to the DMZ." The strictness of the trip was really intimidating, one thing was a lookout into North Korean territory where a photo line was drawn, prohibiting people from taking pictures of this barren land. You might think saying barren has a negative connotation but North Korea doesn't have a single tree because they've all been burnt for fuel and in December the earth is light brown until the mountains which are very dark. It made me very thankful to have grown up in a country that's at peace with its neighbours.

As per usual nights were blurry but fun, the same story in a different city.

This is a picture of a railway that connected North and South Korea through the DMZ. It was built through the sunshine program, which was a program devoted to catching up North Korea's economy. It was pulled when the conservative party was elected in 2002 (or 2007).
Oh yeah! The high point for me was the train ride home, seeing all the cities in between Seoul and Busan and actual animals too. I saw a couple deer but I was to slow/ hungover to snap a pic. But I know animals live in Korea now. Pretty pumped.

Through the Eyes of the Waygook - Where's the Heat

 As I sit at my desk, in my winter coat, praying for my birthday hangover to be over with. I feel as though I were a heroin addict shaking with fright, longing for that warm feeling, with this look of pain and confusion on my face. Why is there no heat in this school? Better yet- why has the soup this whole week been served cold. Seriously, the coldest week of the year thus far and it just happens to be cold soup week. Let's hope that changes today (they all got steadily warm as the week progressed).

Living in Thunder Bay for 5 treacherous winters of blistering cold I assumed I could handle a couple chilly days. However, my body is used to central heating in buildings, her I am constantly bundled up, drinking hot water, and dreaming of my warm cozy bed. Instead I'm in an icebox.

In the grade 3-4 classroom we are in the coldest room in the school. My school is shaped like a U and the wind runs right down the empty sand pit playground and into the classrooms along the bottom. The 3-4 class is right in the middle. The gusting winds are nuts. Thank goodness we close the windows. Oh wait, the air needs to circulate. Fucking awesome. So as I sit, stand, teach, praise, and preach in this classroom wrapped in all the clothes I ownI find myself picking up worksheets blown over by my new nemesis Arctic Winds. I thought Busan was tropical. I've seen a palm tree here.

Thankfully the heat comes on in December, let's hope no one changes their mind about that because I don't want to buy/ invent an electric snuggy that I will wear through winter.

An Ode to the GPS

So I woke up this morning, watched a movie, then ate a little bit of food. All of a sudden I started thinking about writing, so I grabbed a pen and my journal and started writing away. I attribute this spoken word/blank verse style of writing to having listened to Taylor Mali's spoken word performances on Youtube Friday afternoon.

This is what I came up with, its pretty raw so bare with me. Drafting shall begin shortly.

An Ode to the GPS

Most people use it to find things.
Get there,
Then go back home,
And sleep.
Others use it to search for something they want.
But everyone uses it when they're lost:
When your regular path is under construction.
The route to a co-worker's dinner party.
The little Greek restaurant on the other side of town.

It's handy, but the GPS is not needed: 

Every morning, waking up looking into the East Window.
Blinded by this golden city.
Looking out,
I never know where I am.

Walking outside into the subway to school.
No one speaks my language.
How else can I ask for direction?

Arriving at my destination,
After smelling the roses of the city,
I see all these wide-eyed faces
and big smiles.
This look of wonder and excitement brought on by a friendly,
"Good Morning."
These leaders of tomorrow look to me
as a guide.

Standing in the smokey,
tackle box bars or,
the clubs of pulsing lights.
The world disintegrates,
As I'm pulled into a sea of clear blue,
and then another,
one nose over.

I don't use a GPS to show me
where I'm going.
It's my rock,
it places me,
my location.
Through science, math, and satellites.

"No," says Brenda, voice option 7 on my GPS,
"You are not dreaming,
You live on planet Earth.
Not in some far away galaxy
Off the grid where everything
Feels right,
and in place."

"So this is real, Brenda?"
"Yes"
"Well, you could have fooled me."

Quarterly Report - A pre-blog story

Has it been 3 months already? In fact it's been more! It seems like forever since I've had a blog to occupy my afternoons and weekend downtime. So maybe I should regale you all in my exciting first week of school.

First day was exciting, teaching Grade 5s: a Grade I feel I know all too well, they love challenges, but they're still young enough to have fun. I had this PPT biography and a quiz after. I presented it to each class as the first lesson and now I never want to see it again.

Tuesday was cancelled due to a Typhoon warning, which turned out to be an overcast day in Busan, tricking me into believing that I'd be living in Floridaesque climate. Not the case, the second typhoon mangled two umbrellas in two days. The day off was nice though, having the opportunity to go out and bond with my co-teachers and the other specialist teacher, some of whom speak English. It was a really nice time. I also learned that day, chopsticks are necessary. For lunch we went to a restaurant famous for boiled fish which was littered with bones. While struggling to pick up, balance and cut up my food the other teachers were seamlessly picking fish bones off of their tongue, an act of pure skill.

Wednesday and Thursday were very similar to Monday. Meet new kids, hear "you so handsome" enough times it almost loses all meaning, but today it has. I kept meeting new teachers and was assigned my bonus-work which is conversation classes and broadcasting segments.

Friday is when I realized that I had entered a new world. The moment I walk into my shared office one co-teacher nonchalantly tells me you have to speak to the whole school. No pressure, just the whole school. Here I am thinking its casual Friday, wearing jeans and now I'm presenting myself to the entire school. "You'll be fine." My brain tells my whole body. So I go down to the broadcasting room, home of the ceiling of a thousand light bulbs. The reason today was such a big day, was a Grade 2 teacher's retirement after 40+ years, and followed by the introduction of myself and her replacement. Prior to this mega press conference everyone tried to speak English to me at the school. And now I'm here, four feet under the sun, listening intently for my name as a prompt and trying to decipher anything after "anyong -haseyo." Obviously in Korea "save the best for last" is not a thing because I was the last guest speaker. I sit behind the podium, red in the face, dripping sweat. I had a vague idea of what I was going to say and I kept to my mental script for the most part. Just act like the latest free agent: "Anyong haseyo. It’s great to be here, I feel really welcome so far, lots of energy, enthusiasm, and talent here and I couldn't be more excited about this upcoming year. Gam sam nida."  Worst part of my day is over with, right? Wrong.

Classes went smoothly which brought me to lunch where I find out I'm going to a retirement party in honour of a person I've never met and seen once. I had heard through the grape vine that Korean evenings are quite outrageous, lots of food, unlimited soju and beer and after an orientation that made my liver a little more calloused, I was prepared for the evening to come. What a Segway into the weekend!

A co-teacher drives me and two other teachers to the dinner. It wasn't anywhere special - just in the thick of the I-Park towers, the most opulent part of Busan! After we parked we went up to a banquet hall filled with my principal, vice principals, other specialist teachers and tons of people I had never seen before, who later turned out to be people who worked at the school. We picked out a table and sat down. After leaning back and closing my eyes feeling a well-overdue weeks’ worth of work float off my shoulders, I'm nudged by the MC.

"Garp, you'll be speaking in 5 minutes. I will call you when we will start."

NOT AGAIN. My eyes begin to linger on the beer and soju bottles at the centre of the table, all untouched. I refuse to be the party animal, after all, first impressions are everything. I sit there, waiting, silently hoping for a blackout, fire alarm, anything to postpone or cancel this: I just want to eat some food, have a beer and then go party with people who I can have a full conversation with.

Well I'm summoned to the front just off of the platform with two other people, a young woman I had never seen before, and the new teacher. My principal is speaking, and probably praising the hard work and long days of this teacher, and hopefully this diligent spirit carries on to one of the three of us rookies on the side. She makes her speech and bows to the audience. Being caught off guard by this obligation as well as fast-forwarding my life to when I retire I had no idea what I would say. This time whizzed by and before I knew it, last but certainly not least, Shraham Garp up to the podium.

There are points in your life when you are either so focused or out-of-body that you will instantly forget everything you said, thought of or did. That was the case for this rambling. I asked my table if I said the right things and they agreed, probably just so I don't run away.

Thankfully, the PE teacher offered me a beer when I sat down and blew out what I thought was all the stress and jitters in my body. But while pouring the beer for him (respecting my elders and Korean tradition of course) my hands were still shaking. Once I put the cool glass up to my mouth and took a sip, I won't say I felt great because then you'd think I'm an alcoholic, it felt refreshing. Still a little shaky but I was on the mend.

My table got up to go get food, all of which was great and after my third or fourth plate the Vice-Principal walks up to me and holds a shot glass out for me. But its empty I think to myself: quick fact, traditional Korean shots are all out of one shot glass. I'm up first, two hands on the shot glass for respect while he pours with one. Air cheers  to my future-self and put the glass back. Then he pats me on the shoulder and points over to the main table full of guys. It was a good time, lots of finger food I never saw at the buffet, so I gorged, but only a little, more on the spirits than the food. I also found out that the PE teacher is the same age as my father and I am the same age as his son who's living abroad - bizarro world.

I checked my phone to see the time: 8pm. I turn back to the table I sat at for dinner, deserted. I mention to the man next to that I need to get to the Dongbaek subway station to get home. He nods and finds some people leaving and sends me on the way with them. I politely thank him, when he tells me they're taking me to the station closest to my house. I gave him a hug and thanked him again, and walked off with the driver. It was a nice relaxing drive, I nearly dozed off from all the food and booze. We made it there in excellent time, I properly thanked them and while getting out of the car I marvelled at the major intersection thinking, “how cool is it you live here” and, “where do I live?” It’s funny how much a landscape changes from day to night. Either way I got home changed into shorts (how I miss those days) checked Facebook for party details and was on my way.

I don't really remember the evening but I guarantee it was packed with things I strongly hate now: HO bars, soju, Gangnam style, whistles, and gross unisex bathrooms (I never liked the last thing).

I guess now is appropriate as any other time to flaunt my second home in Korea: my office/ the media room/ library.

Book Nook with World Map and Clocks

My Desk 

Panoramic View of the School

School  Supplies Store

A collection of Big Book and a TV in the back left.

    

Through the Eyes of the Waygook - Pizza

Like any change in a person's life, you are bound to experience exciting, exotic, erotic, or even egregious events, evenings, and excursions. And so we begin the notes of the Waygook (foreigner):

Pizza:
This has been a major disappointment for me. Not just one thing, several. I have found out by sampling pizzas all over my neighborhood that Korean Pizza is, for lack of a better word, awful. There is always one good aspect I can always rely on, the cheese. That warm gooey creamy feeling I only get here from pizza since cheese on its own is an arm and a leg. Each pizzeria has some sort of unique unappealing novelty to it. The most recent pizza had a crust the colour of blue corn chips, and tasted similar. There's never dipping sauce, some times they'll give you a packet of two of hot sauce, but they always give you bread and butter pickles. The first time I opened one of these containers excited to dip my crusts, to discover pickles? I wanted to scream. However, one blasphemy I will never for get is the stuffed crust pizza. Koreans have this odd notion to put potato (sweet and regular, pureed or wedged) onto pizza. This seemed manageable for me because I love Boston Pizza's Spicy Perogy pizza, however, its not the same in Korea. Back to the stuffed crust, I order it walk around for a bit, come back and pick it up, and head home smelling the cheesy goodness. It was a long day at work and I just wanted some nice greasy food to sink me into a food coma and deep sleep. I open the box and pull off one of the little rolls of crust. I prepare for it like a kiss, eyes closed, lips puckered, mouth slightly open... only to heave it back into a napkin. I have shunned the taste from my memory but having paid 4,000 won for this sweet potato stuffed crust  I wasn't going to waste this. Special shout out to hot sauce for that one. I didn't even open the pickles that night. I sulked until I was too tired to sulk. I have discovered that pizza from places that claim to be Italian are the closest to Western pizza. There are Domino's and Pizza Huts but its overpriced and it looks like the Korean style pizzas with their sweet potato and corn bits (yeah, they put corn on pizza). My advice is to stick with Korean food when you're in Korea, it just makes sense.

Venting for a Solution

This Wednesday and Thursday the English teachers were in charge of judging English stories re-told by our students. This was on a volunteer basis. In typical Korean fashion, I found about this on Tuesday half-way through the day from a student. I asked about it after school was finished and my co-teacher (who is slowly transforming into some evil Disney queen) and gives me her automated message: "I don't think that's important for you." Here we go again.

Wednesday afternoon rolls around and set up begins in the classroom next to my office while itty-bitty Grade 3s are pacing rehearsing their stories around my office. Upon entering the classroom I'm given a "rubric" written in Hangul and a copy of each student's story. After skimming through most of the stories they are all folk tales which have been horribly translated into English and are entirely completely expositional. You betcha I got some examples:

"Not just lion, the lion was the most powerful and wise. He know that dogs and cats to counterbalance each other, he started to wonder how to reconcile them. . . Deepening friendship of dogs and cats, but the did not."

"I fly to Dream World. / "welcome, Dimpy" I meet new friends. / I go to the castle."

"Hello~ everyone, How are you today? / My name is ______ / I'm in the     4 grade. I'm a little nervous. Please listen my story well." (All of them memorize something like this, and yes they left the name line blank, and older grades failed to breeze through this.)

"Oh, my~ A mouse chews my hat. / 'Don't chew my hat. Go away!'/ A mouse is gone. 'I'm sad.'"

Due to nerves there were far more enunciation and grammar mishaps than I bothered to count. That's a little unfair, the first group of students was actually really impressive but as the students got older the quality dipped quite drastically. But all except for 4 or 5 had this dreary "my parents made me do this, I hate my life" voice which was really depressing. After judging the first batch of kids, I have come to realize that this is a complete joke: One co-teacher has merely ranked the students with no additional notes and the other two gave each student letter grades for the three categories. I made up my own criteria as anyone would for the first set so obviously my rankings were much different from theirs.

Judging these stories was beyond challenging for me. One student at a time came up with no notes and recited their story from memory. Then there were other kids who brought up visual aids, which gave them the story's plot line in a neatly wrapped package. I asked the Queen Bee if we mark them on visuals:

"It's up to you."

"Well do you?"

"Maybe, sometimes."

. . . Great. Then there was the issue of length and the amount of repetition. One child who brought in visuals that led her through a story about a star searching through a collection of shapes to find her missing piece repeated the same two lines, with minor adjustments, for less than a minute. The best ones stretched out to two minutes apiece, with expression and dramatic pause and no visuals. I'm only talking about the Grade 3's too, which were, by far, the best group as a whole: three of the seven students scored above 90%.

The Grade 4s, 5s, and 6s all shit the bed barring one or two exceptions. Maybe it’s because they have more homework and less free time. However, another factor was translating the rubric's criteria, courtesy of Google translator, so I could be on the same page as my CTs. Too bad all of the discussions post-story telling was in Korean. They asked me for my top 5 and then that was it. I could have slept, I could have rearranged all the desks, I could have farted as loud as humanly possible; they still wouldn't turn a head.

Four or five kids forgot their story which resulted in an incomplete mark. One really irked me though, this student who is one of the brightest ones I have the privilege of teaching told a story about Gandhi (I don’t think I even knew who Gandhi was in Grade 6) with a number of pauses and prompts but made it to the second last sentence. He was standing their silent hemming and hawing for what felt like an hour, until he resigned in Korean. I scored him as if he did not quit and he had the second highest score, tragic, instead a student with a story about arguably nothing placed third. C'est la vie.

Now after venting let's thread a silver lining through these dreary two days: If I am given the opportunity to return to my school I will organize and lead this story-telling contest to not only challenge students and their abilities while insuring fairness, but develop sound  marking schemes and expectations for each grade level. Expectations are necessary because there were students in Grade 5 using the same story as a Grade 3. For all I know they could have done this the past 2 years too. Sorry, back to happy/optimistic thoughts. I'm EXCITED to challenge myself here, who knows this might benefit me back home (job-permitting). I really like the concept of this event and it has so much potential to be AMAZING. There are a lot of Korean folk tales and a lot of them are in my library, most involve animals pranking one another. Hopefully, with some dramatic coaching these stories can be brought to life in the upcoming year, presuming I stay here.       

11/11

I know, it's only November, why would I be thinking, or complaining, about Valentine's Day? Perhaps love is in the air. Maybe I have a surplus of heart shaped things, or a lot of red surrounding me. Nope, I was reminded by consumption, the purpose behind this "loving" holiday, much like Pepero Day in Korea. For those who don't know Peperoes are crispy pastry sticks dipped in, or filled with fruity or chocolaty goodness. The holiday begins with the Pepero Company not meeting their expected profits. So what would any other company do in this situation? Fold up shop and hit the road? Lower their prices? Neither, they decided to transform Peperoes into a holiday, cleverly titled Pepero Day. When is Pepero day you ask: it’s the only date you can make using Peperoes. November 11th. How interesting, when North Americans and Europeans are honouring veterans and soldiers responsible for establishing and maintaining our freedoms, Koreans celebrate, and gorge on, sweets. Whatever floats your boat, I suppose. The thing that gets under my skin about this is there's no facade over Pepero Day, it's like calling Victoria Day Molson Canadian and Cheap Fireworks at the Cottage Day. However, my co-teacher told me that most people are opposed to this holiday because they recognize it as a money-grab. Still though, being on the receiving end of this holiday was really nice. So a Happy Remembrance Day and Happy Pepero Day: be thankful for your freedom and rights, and celebrate that with a little treat.  

Profiling some of the KBL's finest

Tuesday night I went to a Korean Basketball game. Hilarious. The Busan KT Sonicboom was heavily out matched by the Kwangju what’s-their-names. The teams are not entirely Korean, one "import" is allowed on the floor per team. These are the make or break players. The Sonicboom's starting import was the Dustin Byfuglien of the KBL. Ironically sporting number 23, he moseyed up and down the court, making horrible passes, and shooting bricks the entire game. Then there was my favourite Korean in the history of Asia. This guy was a complete joke. No skills, cement shoes, and a hair cut from a lawnmower. To conceal this last downfall he wore a white headband to contrast against his black hair and a neck-collar. It looked like a neck brace, which would explain why he sauntered up and down the court staying in the same spot on offence and doing much of the same on defence. On some of the opposition’s breakouts this guy didn’t make it to centre by the time Kwangju got a basket.

On the opposite side of the court, and spectrum, Kwangju had a winner on their side. I find the best skill a player can have is the ability to create scoring opportunities one on one and 41 did every time. Driving, pulling up, and dishing it off for an easy in, he did it all. He controlled the tempo at the 4-spot and lit up the stadium. It was like watching LBJ playing against high school kids. Sad really. 41 put up a quarter of his teams points like it was nothing. The final score was 82-71 for Kwangju who was up by 15 for most of the second half. I was surprised how much scoring there was but I feel the court was not as big as an NBA court.

The atmosphere was lots of fun. Typical Korean rules, BYOB and F (for food). Tragically, the HomePlus beside the stadium did not sell cold beer. Regardless, the beers were only 3,000 won and they were worth it: the stadium is a sauna. During commercial breaks the entertainment was very good: obstacle races, garbage can curling, cheerleaders, a rock paper scissors type game, child-friendly mascots and, of course, giveaways. All of which were done in 2 minutes or less apart from the half time show, which was twelve.  Lots of fun, I'd do it again, just to chirp the guy who cuts his own and can’t run.

It just goes to show, even when your home team sucks (Raptors or Leafs), you have to find something to cheer about.  

Doomsdays and Immortality

Usually I don't post more than one blog a day but this is one of those "I gotta say something about this." This evening I had an unexpected guest at my door. She was very polite in her opening, unlike back home where solicitors are in and out specialists. She led her way in with some small talk asking questions about me then talking about Hurricane Sandy. I thought this was a donation bit, but then she pulls out a leather bound Bible. Tune out time: "Yada yada yada [the almighty force in nature] said, 'Blip bleep baaahh.' Here's a magazine about what's happening in our world today."

I went about the rest of my evening as planned. Pretty low key, went downstairs to empty my recycling and then went to the store to pick-up some juice and eggs. As I'm waiting for the light to change a slick looking Korean man starts talking to me. Koreans are very outgoing and friendly people for the most part and don't usually hesitate to talk to strangers. So when he said "Hello, how are you." I just mentally rolled my eyes, here we go again, smiled back and nodded. Once we wrapped up our small talk he bluntly asked "Tell me, would you every like to live forever?" So you're one of these guys eh? The sharp-dressed slick hair philosophers of the business world. I gave him a lengthy explanation about how if I was immortal I'd put everything off because I'd always have time. Then he starts talking about how some newly discovered planet will pass Earth and its a sign of bad things to come. I'm starting to feel a little iffy about this guy now. As I turn to get into the elevator, yes he followed me into my building, he hands me this:

But of course, here I was thinking I was making a Korean friend, now I'm holding a magazine that's made out of something cheaper than newsprint after being played like a fiddle. So now solicitors don't just knock on your doors in Korea, they just find you. It's weird though, usually back home you would have to buy these magazines and here they're free. This is one of the many oddities and novelties of being in a new country. I did flip through these things with a critical eye and snapped a couple photos of some rather ridiculous artwork and typical crack-pot statements.

Its not a Halloween / Cultural Day without Mr. Bean.

This Wednesday was Halloween and also a culture day at my school. I dressed up as a cowboy in hopes of convincing students that Psy dances like a cowboy, but they didn’t believe it. It was also an excellent excuse to wear jeans. After teaching my final class of Grade 4s until December, I distributed ample amounts of candy to staff and admin. The exciting part is I still have candy to give away as prizes for special occasions and to snack on throughout my lonely afternoons in the library. Mmm green apple. Nonetheless, once the students caught wind that I had candy my class room was full to the brim with little faces eagerly saying, "Twick or Tweat" on every break, then in my afternoon as well. Luckily, that ended 2 hours early.

The specialist teachers (being science, art, English, P.E. etc.) Went to Igdae Park, the same place I went on Sunday. My camera was out of juice this time, so I didn't get any new photos, but the art teacher took it upon herself to be the photographer. We didn't walk as far as I did on Sunday, but it still beats desk warming. While walking back we saw more teachers from the school that left after classes were finished. Waiting at the highest point near the entrance, looking out at the skyline, I marvelled at the largest wild land animal I've seen since coming to Korea: a praying mantis, man-eater of the insect world, the size of a small bird. There’s reason to go back with a fully charged camera.

Next stop was a coffee shop. Like back home, its student central with very bohemian vibes and a blackboard. Being there made me feel old, and reminded me how stress-free I am here. Hey Professional Development, take the year off. My liver was not so fortunate. On we go to the restaurant. We arrived relatively early so I was sitting on the floor by myself for about 5 minutes while the PE teacher was catching up with the rest of the staff. In a rapid sequence one of the older gentlemen from the guy's night about a month ago (oddly enough I haven't seen him since then) kicks off his shoes orders two beers, sits across the from me, nods and smile takes the beers from our server, flips 2 glasses over, pops the cap off, and pours away. The two of us drink and snack while admin and the other guys filter in. Then those little green bottles of pain and memory loss rear their ugly labels.

I tried to avoid it as much as I could by shovelling deliciously spicy octopus meal to chase down those shots that are carbon-copies of vodka. The older teachers leave after the meal, along with the Principal and Vice Principal (the latter was staring me down the whole time we were eating, why I don't know, nor will I ever) leaving my youthful and fun-loving colleagues, most of whom speak enough English to carry a conversation about students, the school, being handsome, and being able to answer my ever so popular question "How do you say _____ in Korean?" (Grade 6 Lesson 12, they must have had a great teacher then). Once all the food was gone, the eldest paid on the school credit card and we went on ward into the night.

We travelled down a street, to the left and up another to stumble into a quaint restaurant with a second floor like the one in my loft. We travel up the narrow steps and are presented with some beers, soju and snacks.

One teacher who is very talkative and constantly happy tells me, "You are so handsome."

"Thank you but I'm handsome like famous people." I replied

"Yes, you are; you look like Mr. Bean"

Everyone erupts with laughter except for me and my rosy red cheeks and furrowed brow. REALLY? I think. He then proceeds to find pictures of Mr. Bean on his phone, showing them to me, then laughing even harder. I'm glad I'm loved here. I'd also like to point out I've been wearing a cowboy costume this entire time. For the rest of the night we talked about our favourite Mr. Bean moments.

One of the coolest things I witnessed there was the mass boilermaker line. Our eldest teacher poured out beer into 6 glasses in a tight line, then put half a shot of soju in each shot glass and stood 5 of them on the rims of the 6 glasses. It looked like the base of the pyramid. The last shot glass is the starting domino, you merely clink one of the shot glasses on the end and they all slide into a beer. What a clever way to serve such a delicious drink! The rest of the night, just as any other soju-related night, was forgettable (but for different reasons); nothing was lost, forgotten, or brought up that was out of the ordinary. Since Movember starts today, I asked the 3 male Korean teachers if they would grow mustaches. None of them would because their wives don't like it. Whether you're in Korea or Canada you have to abide by the wife/ girlfriend, guess I'll have to accept that eventually. But for now, I'll keep my Mexican stash in the making, my nights long, in hopes working my way up, or down actually, to a more respectable celebrity look-a-like.         

Another weekend, another random act of kindness.

This Halloween weekend was somewhat of a disaster (losing a phone, being sick, rain like you wouldn't believe and rediscovering my square wheels) but also a great time (Halloween, drinks, a nice little hike, an unexpected laugh attack, getting my phone back and the fireworks festival).

A lot of bad things were manageable. A runny nose has never stopped me from going out, even when it’s raining cats and dogs, just add another layer. For the square wheels I blame alcohol, arrogance being contagious, and stereotyping girls from New York as very up front "cut the crap" kind of ladies, especially when they have a stripper's name. Halloween was the following evening. Everybody got dressed up, and had a night on the town. Somewhere in between leaving the bar and getting into a taxi, I managed to lose my phone. I realized it was gone once I got out of the cab. Either way this event managed to spring me into a very eventful Sunday.

So here are the good things. I was super impressed with my Halloween costume. I went as a crazy homeless man: tin foil hat to prevent the satellites from reading your mind, sign that states "guvermint konspearacees are real" a construction site tape for a belt (I couldn't find an extension cord), and plastic bags for my feet. Because it was all free my costume was completely disposable, a major plus. The following morning, without my cell phone in a sweat lodge of an apartment, I figured I would go on a journey to try and find my phone. I went to both bars I vaguely remember going to, both of which were closed, but I managed to find the legendary 2hrs of unlimited beer for 10,000 won.

I continued on my walk to discover this:

It started at 72 seconds. My mind just continued churning out ways you can cross this 2-lane road and still make it to the other side: rolling, lunging, crawling, paddling a canoe, or riding a turtle. It's endless. Then I walked down to Gwangalli Beach, the site of the Fireworks Festival. Gwangalli Beach is the site of my cover photo, featuring the Gwangalli Bridge. The site is always very beautiful and because there's plenty of time in the day, the I-pods pumping some rocking beats I decide I'm going to walk over to the other side and see what I can discover. Doesn't take long to see some really cool things, lots of little marinas were scattered around the shoreline and plenty of fishermen too. When I got to the other side of the bridge, the music kept rocking so I kept going. I made it up to Igdae Park which is a hiking trail that goes along the shoreline. The weirdest things on that 2+km trek were a tree growing out of concrete (talk about hiding your roots) and rock pathway which was a primitive bed of nails. Each stone was half buried, or cemented in the ground with pointed tops, most of the people I saw did it in their socks. I did the same and tried to walk across the whole thing but, it kills me to say, I only made it half way before I put my shoes back on. Either way feeling revitalized I took the subway home, checked facebook to discover that the person with my phone has been calling people in my phone. Winning - too bad he only spoke Korean. Thankfully, the kind stranger sent one of them their number.

Today I asked one of my co-teachers to phone and ask where I can pick it. He explains he's running an errand by my school and drops it off this afternoon. Because of the short notice I didn't have time to get him a gift so I tried to hand him 10,000 won, but he refused (pretty much running out of the classroom giving me the X sign the whole time and shaking his head almost violently). While he was on the phone with my co-teacher though he explained that he owns a restaurant that's famous for pig’s feet, the direct translation from Korean is trotters. Now as payment I have to venture to this restaurant to hopefully appease the Lost and Found God.

Thinking back to the last time I lost my phone, I suddenly realize how helpful and determined Koreans are in comparison to back home. Last time I lost my phone it slipped out of my pocket in a mall in one of the poverty-stricken pockets of Toronto. When I realized it was gone I used my mom's phone, who was my chaperon at the time, to call my phone. Here's how it went down:

The phone rings twice.

"Hello?"

"Hi, you have my phone. Can we-"

"Yeah this is my phone now."

*Hangs up.

This person was obviously the one who didn't share in kindergarten. This Korean man, however, made up for it: phoning tons of people on my contact list and anyone who was trying to contact me. Despite the language barrier he kept trying to solve the problem and I totally commend him for it. It's people like this, in a city so amazing, that make me want to be the best person/teacher I can be.  

After getting home to discover the news that this guy was consistently trying to solve the problem I went out to the fireworks festival. And that’s when Korea really blew my mind bringing a completely new meaning to “light up the sky.” You would think one hour of fireworks could get boring, it doesn't  One x-factor is the people surrounding you, one woman next to us was like a kid on Christmas morning, waving her hands and clapping, grinning ear to ear the entire time. Gwangalli beach was packed probably upwards of 40,000 people is my guess. The pathway home was a long one to say the least. Police and security were controlling 3 subway stations regulating people at the street entrances and the turnstiles. Twas a zoo. So much so I kept walking until the next subway station, half an hour away. Still an amazing night.

Celebrating

One year ago, I was tied down, sulking away. That's right, I was in a bad relationship. Despite that, for reasons I don't understand, I was content settling for the way my life was heading. I had begun to research teaching in Northern Canada on a reservation (a much colder version of hell from what I've heard). Make some money, hate life for a year, come back down with more experience than a supply teacher and a girl friend that's missed you. However, this did not come to fruition and I couldn't be happier.

I have gone on to enter this new world of self-discoveries, cultural experiences, and challenges while loving every moment.  Along the way I have met some amazing people who I can relate to on so many levels. I look back at what I wanted a year ago and laugh. I almost forgot how fun it is to be a bachelor with money. Although I do miss it a little, this change of scenery has helped me forget, and more importantly feel accomplished. Even though this distraction is another honeymoon phase in the roller coaster that is my life, hopefully this can evolve into something sensational over time. So a happy belated 2 months Busan.

You've been an excellent host.      

Farley

I have discovered my favourite student in Korea, thus far, and impulsively nicknamed him Farley; not after Mowat but Chris. The first day I saw him, I couldn't miss him. He was wearing a bright yellow track suit and greeted me with a deep resonating "Anyong Haseyo," followed by a super serious bow. Before I continue the profile of this prolific school bus of a child (maybe that'll be his alternate nickname) I should mention that instead of recess students have a 10 minute break in between each class where they can go outside and play or sit in the halls and play Gong-gi (jacks). However, the most common thing to do, especially since the weather is getting colder, is stay in the classroom and do whatever the hell you want. This includes playing Gong-gi, tag, baseball or simply fighting, all of which overlap and intertwine. Now Farley has grown significantly more than the rest of his classmates but he still tries to do everything that they do. While chasing a much smaller student he lost his footing  turning a corner and was so close to pulling a Matt Foley (http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&v=XaoM0FyLmGY&NR=1), thankfully he didn't. Watching him is like comparable to a puppy running full speed, tripping over his own legs and not knowing how to stop.

Round 2 of Farley vs. little children. The boys were simulating the most exciting play in baseball: sliding into home plate with a catcher blocking their path. At first Farley was talking to another group, then noticed the game and jumped in front of the entire line to run and slide. He takes four or five steps and slides four inches. Disaster averted. As the class started to settle a boy in the front row starts flipping the bird to some one behind him. I casually walk over to his desk, tap it twice to get his attention, and calmly say, "Don't do that again." Farley sits behind him and sees the whole thing go down and decided to put in his own two cents. He stands up, straight as an arrow,to address me.
"Teacher" pointing his middle finger that's ever-so slightly extended, "Next time, off." There isn't a shred of sarcasm, humor, or questioning in his voice.
Nonchalantly I mutter, "Sure.'
To his pure joy he bellows "Yes!" in that fog horn voice of his and shakes his fist in triumph.
Having only known him for 80 minutes, I am very intrigued about what other surprises Farley will bring to the classroom. Perhaps a three piece suit, a novel knock-knock joke, or something that isn't even known to Westerners.

Today Farley was dressed in Korean-style letterman jacket (the three piece suit of an 11 year old.) with a maple leaf on the shoulder. How can you hate the guy now? He had a very serious demeanor today he shook my hand, upon entering the class room, in typical Korean fashion. Today was a practice test day for their mid-term at the end of the week. Farley seems to take a vow of silence in preparation. If he ever had something to report he would mime with such passion and speed, you couldn’t help but smile: it’s too noisy, they’re talking too much, she’s cheating and so on. The only real let down I had was he told me after the test that there was going to be steak for lunch. Because this is a school cafeteria I expected some sort of beef dish that had bones in it.

Even still, he was wrong. Bland chicken soup, white rice, green onions for the soup, kim chee, and little mini omelets served cold. This is usually a typical lunch here but expecting something good and getting something worse always goes down in a bitter fashion. Back to Farley, his hair is also very hilarious. It grows up, rather than out, so he’s got this out grown eraser head look going for him right now. He’s a very awesome kid and a riot to teach.     

                                                                                                                  
On a completely random note: Beersbee is an amazing drinking game. All you need are 4 sticks (a very challenging feat in Korea) a Frisbee, some patented red plastic cups, and alcohol. Each team takes two sticks and places them in the ground a foot apart, the two sets should be no less than 20 ft away from each other. Place a cup on each stick. The rules are simple: you must ALWAYS have a drink in your hand and you can't go in front of your sticks. The goals and scoring system are a little more complicated. Like most sports the highest point total wins. You get points by knocking the red cups off the stick, but if the team saves their cup before touching the ground its -1 for the team that threw the disc. If hits the ground the throwing team gets 1 point. You can get two points if you throw the Frisbee through the two sticks cleanly if the opposing team does not catch it. If they do no points are awarded to either team.
It's a great game for the beach, in the park, or your own backyard. Actually anywhere you can have open liquor and stick something in the ground is an excellent Beersbee field.

BIFF

Last weekend a friend from university came down for the Busan International Film Festival. I saw three films. All were very well done but at the same time each was very unique. A friend asked me last night, "Was there one that wasn't depressing?" Immediately the answer was yes. Each story dealt with something taboo but there was an element of escapism. After pondering over the plots they weren't as depressing as they were shocking. The shock-factor probably contributed to my emotions swirling around like a tornado bringing on my watery eyes in 1 of the 3. So here are my brief outlines of each movie. I won't rank them, however, it should be noted that all of these film were selected to be premiered at an International Film Festival (unlike any movie starring Nicholas Cage). I believe the best way to watch a movie is by going in blind, thus, I tried to give a basic outline of the movie without giving anything away.

The first movie on the list was In Another Country, a Korean film about Korea through the eyes of a foreigner. The setting was lacking and it forced the audience to focus on the characters and the dialogue. There were some funny points in the film where they dealt with the laguage barrier in between foreigners and Koreans, other than that, I'd say it was the worst movie out of the 3.

Fly with the Crane is story set in rural China, with beautiful scenery. The main family in the story is at ends with one another's values, leading to arguments which drive the story. The film takes very long shots which can't get a little dreary but its a small price to pay.  It takes a while to get into but don't judge it until you've watched the whole thing.

Finally, the best movie of them all, Beasts of the Southern Wild. A compelling story of a girl and her father that are forced to deal with poverty and disaster. The blending of reality and fantasy in this film is absolutely phenomenal. If I can recommend any of these three films this is the one. The acting was superb.

The End of September and the Beginning of October

There is reason why 5 day weekends are completely unheard of in some parts of the world. Time seems to sit still and the taps never run dry, but sometimes I wished they would. My only regret is not getting out of Busan to see other parts of Korea, even though it seems like the place to be. It probably could have softened the blow to the head courtesy of my good friend alcohol. Each day brought on new adventures exploring the city and all its little intricacies.

One of the most interesting places I went to was a bar that was exclusively for people born in 1993. It took a while to figure this out because of the language barrier but the doorman was a perfect gentleman and tried many ways to explain how my friend and I are too old for the bar. As we continued on our crawl we stumbled into a gem of a bar: All you can drink for 2 hours for the price of 10,000 won. The bar was pretty empty, the bar tenders were awesome, because they let you pour your own beer and took song requests.  Tons of fun and I’d go back in a heartbeat once I feel like drinking again.

Then there were the nights of the sloth. One day I went for a long walk in Dancheon Park which is a gorgeous walk along a rocky river. It was a beautiful sunny day which really added to the magnificence of the site. At this point I really considered buying a camera. Taking that hike was a great decision, and rejuvenated me from the night before. One thing in nature is you can just admire it and not worry about bad stuff happening. While walking back home, still in my doe-eyed state, I go to cross the street and without warning a car blows by me. It was so close I could have high-fived the driver, a harsh welcome back to civilization. After cleaning up I went out to dinner, to my dismay it was at the same place where I had that raw steak. This time I had the Philly cheese steak which was much better, but it had way too much bun. Needless to say I hit a food wall and couldn’t continue in the evening and went home and fell asleep instantly.

On the last night of drinking we went to PNU, where we had orientation and some amazing nights. Things got really out of control. After a sojo roadie, couple of beers, an extremely fun drinking game, and Ho Bar we stumbled into a place that served mixed drinks in a pitcher. I was the first one to order one of these colossal drinks and as I watched the bar tender pour me the biggest rum and coke of my life I began to mentally count how long he poured the rum,

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi… NINE mississippi, Ten miss-

I remember explaining this to several people, and that’s about all. Apparently this galactic cocktail was downed in half an hour according to the “sober” one.   You’d think the drink was good, but it was just really hot in that bar. After waking up completely wasted I decided I did not need to drink anymore for a while. Maybe have a sober October?  Don’t count on it.

            Once I recovered from Tuesday night, I needed to answer a very important question: Where do I work?

            Luckily I remembered, and I arrived early as usual to play guitar in the specialist room. Since today was the first school day in October I am now the Grade 3-4 teacher. Even though I have seen Grade 3s and 4s wandering through the halls I expected them to look much smaller in the classroom. They were still really happy and silly but not as crazy as some of the stories I’ve heard from other NETs. My co-teacher’s classroom management is completely on-point and that might have something to do with their behaviour. Her main technique to manage the class is her voice drops at least 2 octaves and bellows, “ATTENTION!” the kids clap back and reply “Attention” with hands behind their backs, straight as an arrow.  

            For my first week at the school I had to prepare and present a PPT introducing myself to each class. I did it 18 times and never wanted to do it again. Thankfully this time around the students got to ask me questions in Korean and my co-teacher would translate it for me. These children asked very interesting questions to say the least. 

There were standard ones:

Do you speak Korean?  

Do you like Korean food?

What sports do you play?

Do you have a girlfriend?

Do you have any pets?

hat’s your favourite song?

hat’s your favourite animal?

How tall are you?
How old are you?

Then some were weird ones:

What’s your favourite tree?

Have you ever been in a car accident?

What’s 4+4? (got that one wrong)

Have you ever had a terminal illness?

How many friends do you have?

What’s your favourite proverb?

Who is your ideal mate?
Have you ever attended a musical academy?

I have a feeling if this keeps up it will be an excellent month and much different from teaching grade 5 and 6.