Mediocre Reflections

I spent a good twenty minutes staring at my keyring today, contemplating it. There are several keys that I require on a daily basis hanging from the worn Miller Lite bottle opener and fancy nail clippers disguised as a decorative lion. Keys for my apartment, my classroom. But there are other keys that have no business here. A key for my car, for my girlfriend's apartment, for my parents house. Why did I bring these here? Why do I carry them with me day to day? I have no answer to these questions and the inquiry itself is not compelling enough a reason to inhibit me from continuing to do so.

The majority of my week has been routine. I wake up, get a shower,ride the #13 bus to school, eat an orange with coffee while the students are in homeroom, teach two classes, enjoy a free period, go to lunch and eat whatever weird Korean concoction happens to be served (most of the time it's edible, often it's fairly enjoyable, once in a while I reluctantly choke it down) while struggling to converse with my co-workers, play some baseball with the students, shoot the breeze with Mr. Kim the custodian who owns a super fast Kia Coupe and knows how to have a good time after work, check Facebook and G-mail, teach two more classes, play pop music for the girls who show up to clean my classroom, turn everything off, catch the bus or bum a ride back to Tapdong, open the windows and turn on the fan to air the mustiness out of my house caused by the wet bathroom floor, run to and hike Mount Chilbo or run around the lake and go lift at the gym, admire the squadrons of fighter jets, call up some friends to get dinner or make Kimbap and salad at home, play X-Box, call Rachael, fall asleep while watching an American movie on Super Action. On Wednesday there was a slight change in routine as I got to go observe another foreign teacher who has been here for eight months. I thought that the classes I teach are not only more effective and educational than hers but probably more fun for the students so I felt good about that.

This week I'm showing clips from Indiana Jones, primarily the temple scene from the beginning of Raiders which I've seen almost twenty times now. I can recite it by heart and admit that it seems progressively more corny every time it is screened.
"Dr. Jones, again we see that there is nothing you can possess which I cannot take away, and you thought I'd given up. You chose the wrong friends and this time it will cost you."
"Too bad the Hojvitos don't know you the way I do Belloch."
"Yes too bad. You could warn them...if only you spoke Hojvitos."
I made a work sheet with about ten short phrases describing the scene such as, "Giant spiders," "Indy switches idol for bag of sand," or "Jock, start the engine." Then I mix them all up and leave it to the students to arrange them in the right order. Naturally, I prime their motivation with lots of candy. It's a very fun lesson and teaching it makes my day go by really fast. There have been a lot of class cancellations this week because they are studying for finals which always dissapoints me because I'd rather be fooling around with the kids than reading sick novels (American Psycho), blogging, or streaming South Park episodes.

I've eased into the role of instructor with little resistance and find that I have a natural inclination towards the occupation. A big part of the job is motivating and disciplining students who are either unruly or don't want to learn. The psychological strife that persists between students and educator both fascinates and beguiles me, but I am the more clever of the two and outwitting them is hardly an insurmountable challenge. Allow me to present you with an example. Last week I had a student who would say "wow" in a condescending tone after every thing I asked them to repeat.

Me- "I am a doctor and I treat patients."
Unruly student - "Wow!"
Me - "I am a police officer and I enforce the law."
Unruly student - "Wow!"
Me - "I am pilot and I fly airplanes."
Unruly student - "Wow!"

I try to give them a little slack because I understand their situation. They study for 12 hours a day, six days a week, and they are exhausted from preparing for finals but this kid was clearly trying to disrespect me and his distraction threatened to undermine my control of the class. To counter his exclamatory salvo I simply began to say wow myself and got the rest of the class to join in.

Me - "I am a dentist and I clean teeth. Wow!"
Unruly student and class - "I am a dentist and I clean teeth. Wow!"
Me - "I am driver and I drive a bus. Wow!"
Unruly student and class - "I am a driver and I drive a bus. Wow!"

By utilizing his distraction to my advantage I took the power away from him and regained control. Everyone was laughing, having a good time, and before you know it he was tired of saying "wow!" I find that embarrassing them is also affective. If a student won't be quiet or is continually talking over me I'll ask them to come sit up front with Mr. Popielarski. The rest of the class thinks it's funny but they'll quiet down because they don't want to suffer the same fate. Singling out a student from his friends goes a long way here and it's a very effective means of discipline. You can also stop the lesson and just stare at them. It usually quiets them down right away but if they don't notice my piercing gaze while they continue to ramble on then their friends will catch on and warn them. As a last resort, if a student is being completely disrespectful and simply will not comply I just tell him to leave the room. It serves to single them out and since they have nowhere to go except the principle's office, they'll likely have their parents called. I've only had to do that once and I reserve it for extreme situations because it means that their parents are probably going to beat the snot out of them for disrespecting a teacher. Still, when one student is cast out of the room the rest of them immediately fall into line. It's like how Vlad the Impaler would demoralize his enemies by skewering his prisoners on long pikes for everyone to see. Who's gonna take a chance getting captured by that guy? I also find that if you know it's going to be a wild class than you can't, for any reason, let them sit next to their friends. I usually split them into equal groups of boys and girls before I even get started or it will simply be me against the masses. You may know this military tactic as "divide and conquer" and I'll even say that to their faces before switching their seats, "Okay guys, time to divide and conquer."

I went to a Galbi restaurant on Tuesday night that is popular with my friends and which is referred to as Heejay's, though I'm pretty sure that's the owner's name rather than that of the establishment. Eating Galbi is just as much about the food and it is the social exchange. Twelve of us filled three outdoor tables, taking turns roasting pork, pouring Cass, laughing, joking, enjoying the night air and vibrant, though blighted Oriental mise en scene. Also managed to find the Laos Bar (not Now Bar), a place I've been hearing about since I touched down in this country as an establishment where expats congregate. I didn't think it was that great but to be fair I really didn't give it a chance. Perhaps it deserves a second day in court. Well, I'm tired. Goodnight.

Cool Thing About Korea #14: Samsung makes everything. Seriously, every appliance in my apartment is Samsung; air conditioner, refrigerator, television, cell phone, toaster, microwave, rice cooker, gas range, washing machine...I even think my shower head is Samsung. It makes sense because the corporate headquarters is in Suwon..but wow...Samsung.

3rd Annual Seoul World DJ Festival!

My job is awesome! I’m always a little nervous on Mondays because I’m never sure if my lesson plan for the week will work out until the first period is over, but it went awesomely today which means it’s smooth sailing the rest of the week. My work hours are 8:30 a.m. – 4:30 p.m., Monday through Friday but I only teach for three hours a day. The rest of the time I spend on the Internet, composing next weeks lesson plan, talking to the staff, or staring out my awesome floor to ceiling windows. It was humid and rained today but the view was nonetheless spellbinding. My scope encompasses the schoolyard, agricultural fields, vineyards, a large highway, the Suwon skyline, and finally a thick ridge of mountains accentuating the horizon. There are so many flowers in Korea that the rain washes the pollen off buildings and cars in thick rivulets, consolidating the yellow substance into a substantial skin that floats on the top of puddles. After a rain storm the smell is deficient yet lively.

When school let out there was a staff dinner, paid for by the school board, which came without warning. I was about to get on a bus back to Topdong but Ms. Huh intercepted me and told me that all the teachers were going for a night out. The restaurant was a traditional Korean spot, near the entrance to Chilbo Mountain. It was the kind of place where the tables are only six inches off the ground and you have to sit cross-legged. Upon entering the establishment I was, admittedly, worried that I would be unable to sit in such a posture throughout the course of the meal, yet as the night wore on I was not only able to maintain such a stance but found myself quite comfortable. I love Korean fare. They put 20 different dishes in front of you and you pick at whatever you want. The main course was duck cooked on a grill at the table. You pick little pieces of meat up with your chopsticks, slap it on a piece of lettuce, add garlic, onion, mustard, or what else have you, roll it up, and chow down. It was the best meal I’ve had since I’ve been in the country. Koreans love their Soju and it is customary to fill your neighbors glass if you see that it is empty. As the night wore on several male members of the faculty began challenging my ability to keep up with them at their own game. “Hah”, I scoffed confidently, “this is a pastime for which my American education has me adequately prepared gentlemen! Clearly you’ve never been to West Chester, Pennsylvania.” Within an hour I had garnished their respect and my new brothers promised that they would soon take me bungee jumping. I sincerely hope they keep their word.

Before continuing, I would like to say that I am sorry for not posting an update sooner but I have not been well this past week. For four days I had, what I believed to be, a terrible cold. I was in such a state that I regrettably missed two days of classes. On Friday, I finally gave up on the "chicken soup/Gatorade/sleep/I don't have health insurance," remedy and asked to be taken to a doctor. Going to the Korean doctor was an interesting experience unto itself. We walked into the waiting room, checked in with the secretary, and took a seat. So far, not unlike going to any other doctor in the States. When they called my name I followed an assistant in to the back. The examination room had a familiar flair to it but was very alien nonetheless. Where the butcher paper covered examination table should have been sat a rigid wooden cathedra, similar in form to what you'd expect an electric execution chair to look like. Instead of a tidy cabinet complete with individually wrapped and sanitary tongue depressors, cotton swabs, and disposable thermometers, there sat a wheeled stainless-steel cart riddled with hundreds of indecipherable implements from scalpels and bone-saws to powder-filled glass jars and tooth-brushes to vacuum pumps and stethoscopes. The apparatuses at hand suggested that the practitioner was equally surgeon, dentist, and necromancer. The examination itself took less than two minutes and in that time the doctor inserted a dozen probes into my nose and mouth. Some shot bursts of air or a vinegar tasting substance while others simply sucked snot from my nasal cavity. In the end his diagnoses was that I was allergic to something in the air. He gave me a prescription and I had it filled next door less than five minutes later. The cost for the examination and the medicine was less than 9,000 Won or about $7.00 U.S. Long live socialized medicine. Go to hell and die United States privatized health care system. My medicine had enough doses for three days and after the first dose I began to feel better. Awesome!

Since I was in a decidedly better state of affairs on Saturday I figured that I was well enough to go to Seoul with Charlie. We were riding the bus to Suwon station, chatting, laughing, going on about life, love and opportunity, when a terrible concussion tore through the lull. The report rocked the bus and in an instant reality seemed miles away. I gazed around, saw terrified glares from pedestrians, could hear people talking though their voices sounded muffled, as if through ear plugs. I spun, tracing the sound of the blast and across the street I could see black smoke pouring from under a green bus, identical to the one I was riding. Was it on fire? Was it a bomb? Was it an attack? In a microsecond my brain unarchived a thousand different terrorist reports and propaganda that had been lying dormant in my cerebellum, residual observations from calcullating corporate media. As my body prepared a surge of adrenaline adequate to endure a survival situation Charlie put his hand on my shoulder and pointed at the smoking bus, "Tire blew out," he said. Really, I thought as I regained composure, was that all it was? I mean, I've had blow outs in a few cars myself but I never figured that a bus tire could go off with such a thunderous detonation . And all the black smoke! Was it atomized rubber. Don't think that I exaggerate when I say I thought it was a bomb. Regardless, it got my momentum going in the morning better than a cup of coffee ever did.

Charlie had to go to Seoul to buy books and I needed to go to a Kodak service center to get my camera fixed. Somehow Charlie managed to track down this obscure Kodak office in the middle of the city that promised to have the parts I needed for my camera. If I had a Samsung camera I could probably pick the parts up off the street but finding parts for a Kodak is like the plot of National Treasure. Well, we get to this corporate office in the capital of Korea and I can see that they have a thousand boxes of batteries, lenses, SD cards, and other contrivances stashed in the back but they don't have the specific part that I need. Go figure. So they suggest a place in Suwon, which really brought my sweat to a boil. Oh well, I guess I'll just have to paint pictures with words for my adoring audience.

Around 2 p.m. on Saturday Charlie had to disembark to take a test for a government job that he is gunning for. Since, I was feeling egregious I decided that I would join Carlos, Steph, Mark, and this cool Korean chick, Bo in Seoul for the 3rd Annual Seoul World DJ Festival. There was a slight miscomunication as to the whereabouts of the festival itself and I ended up spending the afternoon in Olympic Park, an enormous outdoor facility that I imagine hosted the world games at some point in the past. Though beautiful, the park appeared to be entertaining a few thousand boy scouts at the present and I couldn't imagine that the city planners would allow a rave festival in conjunction. Digging through my pocket for change I called Carlos, obtained the proper coordinates, and was back on board the train to Itaewon.

I had not yet seen as many foreigners in Korea as when I exited the subway in Itaewon. American, British, Austrailian, New Zealanders, and other English speakers abound. As I stood on the curb, chatting with seasoned travelers and waiting for cabs, I decided that I was not to be outdone. Casting aside public transit and taxis as the conveyance of commoners I hailed the largest, most luxurious limousine within sight, ... yes...it was a The Chairman. I arrived at the Rainbow Hotel in unparalleled style to join my companions for the evening. After several hours of procrastinating we managed to garner transportation to within walking distance of the festival.

Tickets to the festival were 50,000 Won, which we considered to be a little steep. In a foolish attempt to bypass this exhorberant fee we transversed a perilous expanse of highway via an unfinished over pass. Over scaffolding, exposed steel rebar, and plywood we crept, eight lanes of high velocity death roaring thirty feet below. We made it to the other side safely enough but there was still three or four tight barriers of security between us and bass heavy madness. It's unfortunate that the event planners were not as incompetent as we hoped they would be. After sucking it up and paying the entry fee we entered a swarm of funkadelic freaks, countless nations and creeds represented. Two huge stages pumped thick pulsing base over a rolling crowd of vivacious youths. In lost time we rebounded between various players, abandoned to the night, to the music, to the carefree mentality of the herd's strange mass, 10,000 vagabonds consolidated in a sandy plot, half a world away from the familiar. Hands flew, pillaged spirits were poured, states of being previously unequaled were achieved. I even met an astronaut.

The festival promised to roll on until 5 a.m. but there was more of Itaewon to be seen. We sold our wrist bands to new comers for 30,000 Won after three or four hours and caught a cab back into town. Itaewon has everything...shopping, clubs, food. We did some Mexican, hung out at a Hookah bar, and danced the night away. The details regarding the later part of the evening escape me as I was overcome with fatigue and I admit that I did not see the sunrise as did the majority of my compatriots, choosing instead a well deserved respite on a hard motel floor.

Another Korean weekend successfully seized! I hope that my accounts were intrepid enough for you oh steadfast reader. With that I will pledge the remaining few hours of my night to Venture Brothers re-runs and ironing. As my camera is incapacitated the pictures published here are courtesy of Mark Hayden and Stephanie Swayne. Thanks guys. Should you desire further narratives from Korea I recommend you to Mark Hayden's blog or the Korean Blog List.

Cool Thing About Korea #4: Pizza School - 12 original medium pizzas for only 5,000 Won.