Living without a Laptop

It finally happened. The first time I decide to buy my own laptop, after getting used ones from my mother, it stops working. Why you ask? A person, who will remain nameless, spilled coffee on it. I can't say I'm too thrilled, it doesn't turn on and I have no idea if I can salvage any of the illegally downloaded music, lesson plans, essays, and my creative writing. I get to find out today if the computer technician at my school can do this, but I'm barely an optimist at this point.

I'm not really frustrated about losing all of this stuff, because I'm sure a majority of it is on my old laptop back home. What I'm dreading is the fact I need to buy a new computer in a foreign country with foreign salesmen, because I can't exactly wait around for online orders. Thankfully though, the pompous nerd, who claims to know everything about computers and the world as they know it, is the full-time professional gamer and not a Future Shop employee.

Worrying is one of the things I do really well. Call it paranoia if you will but I like being able to see problems before they happen so I can mentally prepare for it and hopefully solve it. Having my laptop soak up a 3,500\ coffee was never one of these. But certain wobbly thermoses and certain people should not be united. Lesson learned. I was pretty rattled for the rest of the day.

Thankfully the weekend turned my frown upside down: we had some seriously awesome frisbee times on Samnak Field, Haeundae Beach, at a potluck, and the bar, obviously. I walked into a sign or a branch on the way home (Klutz Mcgee, right?) so now I have this Harry Potter scar on my head and a cover story for school. I told them I laid out for a frisbee and I hit my head on a rock that was under the sand, which is 100% possible. I just haven't decided whether or not I caught the disk.    

Today is one of those days where you can't help but love a student and their work.

Last Friday I had my Storytelling Class with my Grade 3 and 4 students. This is the most difficult class that I teach by myself because the students are leaps and bounds from each other. As a teacher I always try to push my students little by little to improve; they've all read to me and I've given them some strategies to help them improve their reading and now I'm trying to leave them on their own to read. I'm not using the Ferber method though, I'll walk around and point to a word and ask them to read it to me. Some of the Grade 4 students can do this like it's their job so I've started asking them comprehension questions to challenge them further. 

That's a little back story for the activity I gave them last class. The activity was a worksheet where they would draw six pictures (but just three for my adorable IEPs) to retell parts of the story. I gave them all different books so they couldn't copy each other. The class is an hour so I read them a quick story, explained the task, (Using an example always helps. I forgot about that little tidbit.) distributed books, then let them get to work. I focused on my two IEPs for the most part: one's book was too perfect for this activity because it was a little boy's schedule, and the other got a non-fiction book about the desert with words way above his level. I'd rant about it but I've got a bigger one on the way. After some students finished drawing their pictures I would ask the weaker ones what they drew and penciled it onto their work 80% verbatim (to compensate for grammar mistakes etc.). Afterwards I was exhausted so I organized each student’s worksheet with the respective book and packed it up for the weekend. 

Today I came in, coffee in hand, ready to make my assessments from Friday. I went through two or three with no surprises at all, their levels are on par and the boys' drawings are standard crayon-in-fist while the girls took their sweet time doing a bang up job on rabbits and flowers. Then I came to the one that blew me out of the water. She is arguably my best student in the class and continues to demonstrate this. She was one of the students I didn't drill with questions because she's smart and has a great work ethic. I had the book she read, Birthday Present, open while looking over her panels. The first page shows a girl sitting at the table with her mother; the text explains the girl is thinking about her birthday. First pane: the girl with a thought bubble with a perfectly cylindrical birthday cake, candles included. WHAT!!? I was so excited, but really disappointed because I can't take any credit for this marvelous work. I kept reading the story and her panels were on par until a soapy ball of crap hit the book.

I apologize I don't have the book in front of me because I threw it across my office after finishing it. So this girl in the book, Lilly, is mentioning what she wants for her birthday to her mother. She wants something soft, big, exciting, and one other thing, I can't remember. So the mother starts thinking about this. The story shifts to the girl reading a book in her room. Next day, it’s Lilly's birthday which she celebrates with her mom and dad. For some retarded reason this girl now has angel wings, which the text doesn't explain at all. Then it’s time to open her BIG present so what did Lilly's mother decide to get her? NOTHING!! Lilly’s present was her mother!  I'm sorry but how much of a cheap, narcissistic jerk of a mother are you? 

"I know what my child wants: the person she sees every day!" 

Obviously this sweet little girl in my class has never had a birthday where she didn't receive something tangible as a gift, especially not her mother!! My student assumed the wings, which came out of nowhere, were her gift. But she still understood Lilly was happy, which was very perplexing to me. This would be like receiving a DVD one year and then the exact same DVD two years later from the same person, even though you didn't lose the DVD. For the record though, mothers should never be compared to DVDs.   

So, Melissa Kinneman, author and illustrator of Birthday Present and some excellent books in my library, I don't know what you mixed into your typewriter cocktail for this upsetting anti-materialist story but don't let it happen again!      

Through the Eyes of teh Waygook: Volleyball

Sports have been a big part of my life ever since I started high school. I would never call myself an athlete to be remembered for the ages, or even the next down but I always tried my best and I just enjoy getting out and being part of team that turns into family. This past Tuesday one of the male teachers in the school came up to me and asked if I would like to play volleyball with some of the other teachers the next day. Of course, I will never pass up an opportunity to leave school early to play sports. They told me to bring athletic-wear for the following day.

Next day came and I wore shorts underneath my khakis and a white t-shirt under a sweater and collared shirt. The other teachers who were obviously playing were repping tracksuits or sweats and hoodies. Once 3:00 rolled around I had just wrapped up my storytelling class (which is going smoothly by the way) hopped in a car with the old gym teacher and drove off to the same place I play pick-up on Sundays. He asked me on the drive how good I was at Volleyball, having not played in a year I told him I was a C volleyball student which didn't seem to thrill him. Not one bit.

The gym was like your typical Western elementary school gymnasium-auditorium combo. The only difference was it was four stories off the ground with wooden floors and a rounded roof like a tunnel. When I stepped into the tube some of the female teachers from our school were playing another school of teachers. It was so bizarre: no rotation, nine players on at time, and nets maybe two meters high. I knew there would be something bizarre like this but I honestly thought this would be a misogyny thing. As I walked around the gym to the stage to stretch with the other teachers paranoia creeped into my mind. Koreans are super competitve. They'd never play co-ed volleyball, and that's all I've played since Grade 11 gym. Then I remembered the last time I actually played volleyball I sprained my thumb off of a spike and subsequently went into shock (coincidentally the only time I have specific food cravings). Questions started blowing up in my head: How good is this other team going to be? Will they just be a collection of strong youthful educators who have played volleyball they're whole lives? Am I going to die? No, I'm going to be that girl Greg Focker shattered in Meet the Parents. I looked around at the rest of the teachers, the elderly men, my recruiter (an average looking guy), and the other young teacher who wouldn't surprise anyone if he played Star Craft on a daily basis. Nice knowing you, gentlemen.

To make matters worse the teacher, wearing a steel track suit, who recruited me into this ordeal got me off the stage and warming up with a couple volleys. I had never noticed until then how enormous of a man he was because he was always so kind, friendly, and had a really joyous laugh. Underneath his suit though was a terminator build. After barely satisfying my own standards he starts warming up my bump, throwing over hand into my forearms. It felt like bumping an over-sized baseball coming out of a pitching machine. My arms were bright red after about 10 reps. "Don't worry it will go away."  he said, "and then the [last] game [of your life] will start."

Thankfully my thoughts were simply thoughts and not fact. The game was co-ed with teachers from my school and it was 9-on-9. This should be the most non-threatening game of volleyball in my mundane career. Then something happened. A player on the other team hit the ball into the net and then hit it over without another player touching it. Forgive me if I'm wrong but I believe this is a classic example of a "double hit." We kept the rally going for reasons I didn't understand and we ultimately lost the point. Confused, I went over and explained it was our point using hand gestures and a calm, but stern, voice that he had been at fault. His blunt reply: "I know, but this is Korean rule"  . . . WTF!

We wiped the floor with them, beating them in all 3 sets and the odd "rule" was forgotten. Afterwards I was told this was an exhibition game for the tournament coming up in May. Maybe this will be the time I meet the team of ringers. Fingers crossed it isn't though. The next day one of the specialist teachers who was playing before me told my co-teachers I went beyond their expectations. It was really nice to hear and hopefully this further paves my way into the hearts of my school staff.

That Time I went to the Hospital.

Last week I wasn't feeling well. I was running a fever off and on and was really achy. I tried my best to sleep it off, keep my fluids up, and take it easy but nothing seemed to work.  I went to the nurse's office in the school for some medicine which was really helpful, and I told her I would get some more at the pharmacy that night. She told me its better to go the hospital, too bad it wasn't.

This was my first time going into the hospital in Korea. In my walks around my area I knew there was a hospital nearby. To my surprise there is only one entrance and of course I took the longest way possible to get there. Once I was inside the pace picked up: ARC card, describe your symptoms, go through this door, describe your symptoms, take your blood pressure, walk this way, rest on this gurney, here's a doctor. This chain of events was less than 10 minutes. It would have taken 45 minutes on a good day in Canada. Tragically, this was the high point.

Friends of mine have gone to the hospital in Korea and in Southeast Asia and everyone told me it's pretty basic: you get an injection in the butt, sent on your way, and after 12 hours you should be back to being regular you. Upon looking at my symptoms the doctor (who was stunning by the way) said they'll put me on an IV first to see if that helps. So while on the IV I'm twiddling my thumbs because I had no music, reading material, or work to do. Thankfully I had a notebook and a pen so I made a rough draft of this little adventure and documented some of the other patients in the alley of hospital beds.

After both IVs ran their course the doctor returned and I did feel better so she gave me some medicine and my bill. The bill was the clincher that I'm never going back to this hospital until I'm on my deathbed. I was there for two hours, and had two IVs of who knows what to total up to $35 bill. In reality, this bill could have been a lot higher, but being spoiled by free healthcare back home and having a drug plan courtesy of my parents has made me a cheap guy when it comes to my health. Now when ever I get sick I'm going to spend $30 on medicine from the pharmacy (usually about $5-10), vitamin C infused juices, and oranges galore, then kick back and watch a movie or two.  

In order to appease those people who are curious about the cleanliness and protocol of Korean hospitals I wasn't disgusted by any means. There was a guy across from me who was getting drained for an appendectomy, or something like it, and they had the curtain around him most of the time. All the doctors and nurses wore gloves and used clean needles as well. The only qualm I had was they gave me a rough paper towel when I asked for a tissue, (Kleenex isn't a word here). All in all I learned stuff, and realized that going to the hospital is not like a walk-in clinic. Also, if I'm able to get better on my own, I won't bother going to the hospital unless it is a last resort.

Daegu

Well, it was a misadventure in Daegu. I only completed 2 of my goals (drops and the drinking game). The weather was horrid. It rained the whole day and the field's were just mud puddles mixed with sand. The field still managed to be uneven. We lost our first game and I blame that on a lack of communication and cohesiveness considering we haven't played together in 3 weeks. A high point was our injured players coming back to the field which gave us a huge boost after we suffered another injury. By the end of the second game, which we won, I was soaked to the bone, my cleats were completely brown and I just wanted to find somewhere warm and out of the wind.

After the games we checked into a cheap love motel and showered up. The best feeling of the weekend was definitely putting on clean socks after my shower. The night went really well, dinner was scrumptious, and the after party at MF (My Favourite) Bar was awesome. Like I said in my last post there's a real sense of community in the realm of Ultimate and I got to talk to a stand-up guy who we beat in our second game with no animosity just jokes and compliments about the game and its conditions.

Mini-shuffleboard is a very popular game in bars in Korea along with the typical games like billiards, Foosball and darts. This is where I won a drinking game with a person from another team, and it was a pretty convincing win too, to be fair the guy on my side was neck deep in tequila at this point. We traveled home at some point in the AMs played some card games, then said some stuff that didn't make sense, and passed out.

Once we were all up and cradling our heads myself and my fellow Busanites went back to the same place we had dinner and that was a horrible choice for a number of reasons. First of all there was this collection of rugby players who were drinking like tailgaters and their smell made my hangover that much worse. Silver lining: their presence also made me realize I will have to go back home eventually and avoid the life of the lowly drunk bachelor working in Korea. The second problem was they had one guy working in the kitchen and obviously could not cook all of our food in one go. The wait was over an hour. People started cancelling their orders because they just wanted to get back home. Finally when I got my food, it was disgusting and cold. I asked for the Truck-stop special which was a little bit of everything, an then some more garbage: runny over-easy eggs, oily french toast, cold crispy bacon that could chip your teeth, dense pancakes, average toast, and plain french fries (with no vinegar!). I couldn't even eat it all. The floorboards were bending underneath my seat by the time I was too full to finish the rest. The train home was relaxing and super scenic. It really was a shame the Sunday games were cancelled because it was a beautiful day.

This trip to Daegu was pretty awful in terms of my expectations but one thing I don't take for granted is the high spirits of my captains and teammates which made this trip tons of fun. Now I'm counting the days until our next one!

Daegu Double-Double

I'm going on a mini-vacay this weekend up to Daegu and I gotta tell you I'm pretty excited. I'll be playing 5 games of Ultimate in less than 36 hours and I hope my body's ready. I've realized after playing pickup last weekend fresh legs fade quick so I've been doing stairs and running the past couple days and now I'm taking a rest and preparing my carb-packed breakfast for tomorrow. 

So far we're the team with the fewest games played and some of our best players have yet to hit the field and we're still 2-1. The goal is to come back to beautiful Busan 7-1 moving us up to number 2 in the standings. I'm excited to play again since its been 3 weeks since we played our last set. Here are some goals I've got for my team and for myself measuring from most important to least important. 

Average less than one drop a game: This personal goal is to save myself from yelling inside my head. Last time I stopped counting after 2 end zone drops in our last game because I was hell-bent on stopping a player in the previous game, and spent my second to ninth wind on him. It got to the point where I was to tired to even recognize what cut my man was giving me because he'd scream every time the disk came my way. Why? I was still faster than him. Sportsmanship, on both parts, to the max, eh?  I'm curing this by sleeping with my disk and doing some focus and meditation exercises I learned at a coaching clinic.

Put up 6+ points each game: Ultimate has interesting rules, that I still haven't figured out completely but usually games will average between 12-20 points combined. If we lose I don't want to be blown out or have our offense shut down completely. At the same time, our team is very fast and with that comes turnovers and hopefully a shorter field, and that's where we will strike!

Get up to a point a game: This comes with the drops but stats aren't as important as the team winning and clicking with or without me. I only have one point in our three games and I want to get some more, cause the first one was a hair from being taken away. One handler believes I can be the first guy to look for and I want to make the best of my opportunities with that. All I would need is seven points over the five games which is realistic if I don't have a case of butterfingers.  

Celebrate with opponents: Part of Ultimate is the sportsmanship: there are no referees (just a score keeper) and its meant to be fun. Afterwards there is a dinner and drinks party with all of the teams at the Daegu Double (so in this case celebrating is drinking). This is one thing I love about Ultimate. When I played soccer, football and basketball you couldn't congratulate a player on the other team for putting your jock in the stands without looking like a wimp. On this field your team is your family and your opponent is your extended family or your neighbour down the road. Nobody chirps or puts anyone down; we just have pats on the back and high fives all around. Back to the D&D Party (geez that sounds lame) I have a secondary goal: Win/ Participate in a drinking game with player from another team. 

Get Everyone Involved: We've got some beginners who need some points as much as me and I plan on looking for the opportunity to get them involved, and I feel the vets on my team feel the same. Even if they aren't catching it in the end-zone everyone needs a little boost of confidence right? 

Play through the Hangover: Saturday is a night of "dinner, drinks and debauchery" so I'm expecting my brain to dry up and scrape along the bottom my skull as the old wives tale goes. When I played Res. Sports in university on Saturday and Sunday mornings there would usually be a pool of puke long the sidelines from the guy who sleeps two hours, wakes up drunk, runs up and down twice and heaves. This was never me and I don't intend on making it happen Sunday either. This league seems to have a little more class than Res. Sports but after a night of drinking you never know. My typical cure is a hot, sweet, and creamy double-double from Timmy Ho's but I'll have to settle with a Daegu Double-Double at the Daegu Double.

  

Good cop, bad cop

Today was my first day back with my Grade 5s (Now grade 6s) since November of last year. They are kings and queens of the school now, but for some reason the majority of these students think that I'm cooler than them. Thus, their undivided attention is mine. I still feel like a tape recorder at points, but I've just accepted this role. As a reward for my cooperation my co-teacher allows me to ask questions to students to end the class.

Here's the spin, she'll open with, "everyone with glasses/ white socks/ a blue pencil case stand-up." Students look around and help the weaker English students with the unfortunate garb into the line of fire. "Now Garp will ask you a question. If you are too quiet, or too slow you will stay standing. He will then ask another question and if you are too quiet or too slow you will stand forever."

So here I am all smiley and happy ready to ask some simple questions: "What's your name?" "What day is it today?" "How's the weather?" "What's your favourite sport?" while she is panning the classroom with a menacing glare. Some handle the pressure well, others do not. Some look up at me with sad eyes, whispering, "sunny" and then turning only to stare into a very disappointed Korean Judy Dench shaking her head like she was watching them pick their nose and eat. Utter disgust. When she nods there's no trace of emotion. It's lots of fun too because I get to learn things about all these kids; except for their names, cool people don't need to remember those things (this could be a sign I've been hanging out with too many Cali-natives). But I'm having lots of fun being the good cop, and half the fun is seeing how mean the bad cop gets.