For ever and for ever when I move

Well, I reckon it’s time for a new post.

Things have been really crazy lately. We’ve got midterms next week and I had to prepare questions for those. I had extra classes start last Friday, and had to impromptu provide full lesson plans for those. And then, to put the icing on the busy school cake, or so I thought at the time, I had to prepare for an open class within one week.

An open class is when you open up your classroom, line the back of the room with chairs to be filled by the other teachers in your department and by the Principal, provide very solid and foolproof lesson plans, spend evey hour of free time the week before planning for the perfect lesson that demonstrates your incredible ability to introduce a topic, flawlessly exhibit practice and student understanding, and conclude with meaningful interaction and supplementary material after the lesson.

The story continues, but I think we’ll end it here.

As we find ourselves nearly a month into the busy new school year, the inevitable has happened: here, having been immersed in a busy schedule for quite some time, no longer rattled by culture quirks and no longer consumed with extra classes, we find Amanda- teacher sitting at her desk, grown quite used to the busy, busy schedule, and, consequently, almost according to schedule: bored.

Sure, I have loads of work to do. I could plan my lessons for next week, but today is only Thursday and I’ll have three hour- long breaks in my day tomorrow. I could print off the papers for my next class and cut them into thin, environmentally- friendly strips for tomorrow, but I’ve got another thirty minutes before class starts.

I would strike up conversation with the teacher beside me, but she can’t speak English, and though I studied Korean for two hours last night and two hours on Monday night, and though I practice and practice and practice, and though sometimes I use up a little class time trying to sound out Korean words and write in Hangeul on the board as the class screams out vowel sounds, gesticulating frantically in the air and laughing and screaming hysterically when I guess wrong, I can’t speak Korean for the life of me.

I remember when I was a kid, I used to hang around my dad while he was working in the yard, building or fixing things. I was a skinny little thing with long, wavy blonde hair from sleeping with a headful of braids, hair lightened by the sun, always reading books or catching frogs or getting my siblings into trouble.

I have vivid memories of hanging around my dad and as I’d hand him nails or just watch him work, I’d kick around and say, “Daaaad, I’m booooored.”

He would pause, look me up and down and say, “You don’t look like a board.” Which, of course, would make me awfully mad.

“Not a BOARD, Dad, I’m BORED.”

And he’d always say, “Well, go find something to do,” or, “Hand me another nail, please,” which would make me equally mad, because he was my dad, which meant he was supposed to be full of really cool ideas to fill all my time… right??

So, I guess some things never change.

So here I am, sitting in South Korea, wearing fancy teacher clothes and waiting for the clock to tick the minutes by, same little kid in fancy grown-up clothes, sitting in a pile of notebooks waiting to be graded, and I thought I’d share a bit of the delightful poetry of Korean notebook cover phrases with you:

(Quick disclaimer: It’s hip and cool for English to be printed on random things, like backpacks and notebook covers and clothing, so it’s a great past time to read these English bits and try to figure out what they say. The remainder of the post is a random sampling of English phrases off the covers of my student’s notebooks, concluded with a bit of that random phraseology in real- life conversation. Enjoy.)

“Strawberry Jam: Extraordinary color and sweet name”

“English Notebook: A strong passion for any object will ensure success, for the desire of the end will point out the means.”

“ENGLISH: Delicious Would you like some fresh bread. What a delicious smell!.”

“Open up your heart and greet the world as it is. We can always find joy and love wherever our eyes rest. Nothing is more precious than the truth, freedom and peace that we feel each day.”

“Pacific Ocean Brilliant jewels! Yes. It’s very nice.”

“English Are there any English speakers here? I have a knowledge of English.”

“Promise yourself to be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. Look at the sunnyside of everything and make your optimism come true. Think only of the best, work only for the best, and expect only the best. Forget the mistakes of the past and press on the greater achievements of the future.”

“HELLO! How are you? Use it. And you will love it.”

“English The scenery will always be where it is, and the colors change very slowly… The natural life without affectation is always beautiful.”

“Rainbow: By happy rainbow magic of mind / They turn to pleasure all they find.”

“CATS: Happy together.”

“English Welcome to the fantastic English world.”

“ENGLISH: Look up. So many places have the most fascinating architecture and it’s easy to miss unless you look up. Check out the details. If you’re in the countryside, check out the clouds in the sky or just enjoy the blueness. Isn’t it lovely?”

“It’s a beautiful day! What a beautiful day! It makes you feel like a million!”

“There is no reason to believe it / But I want to tell this feeling to you now and then.”

“Chocolate mocha Love is like the color revolution”

“What a wonderful world The start of a happy life is the firm decision that I will must be happy and the practice that lead to you happiness from this moment.”

“Sweet heart In my childhood I dreamed about me…. Someday I’m gonna be beautiful.”

“English After a few months of hard work, I felt confident in my abilities in the English language, and I am now able to communicate fluently in English.”

“English holic People , even more than things, have to be restored renewe revived, reclaimed and redeemed redeemed Remember, if you ever need a helping hand / you’ll find one at the end of your arm”

“English My English Note Book Hello my friends! Endeavor is victory! Cheer up!”

And, to finish, a conversation with a student that just passed by my desk:

“Teacher, hello! How are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“OH, very good. Biorhythm good.” (hahaha) “Teacher byyyeeee!”

The end.

This week in class we’re doing anatomy.

It’s a pretty fantastic lesson, in that the kids’ attention span stays focused as they draw faces, bodies, legs and arms, and my attention span is entertained as I get to toss up the lesson with differently styled beards, curly mustaches, incredible pictorial comparisons of cats’ whiskers to the whiskers of men, comparisons of hair buns to Paris Baguette’s sweet hot buns, explanations of fun things they already know but don’t know they know, like mascara and eyeliner and the heels of feet, toe nails and high heels and things that are neat, dimples as compared to pimples, bangs and ponytails, contact lenses and glasses, sun freckles on your face, whose shape may be round, oval or square, thighs, calves, which when single is calf, and the one that really gets a scream and incredulous, “Teacher, really!?”:

Belly button.

And I must say, if I do say so myself, that I draw a pretty adorable stick figure with pot-belly and belly button.

I also love to throw the kids off when I ask, “Beards, good?”, and they all scream in avid response, “NOOOOOO, DIIRRRTYYYY!”, and I tell them, almost as though it were a secret, gathering all their attentions before letting out the words:

“I think they’re cute.”

“GASSSPPP NOOOOOOOOO TTEEAAACHHHERRRR!”

“Yes, true. I love them.” And with a smug, happy smile and a sage, dramatic pause, “So cute.”

————-

“What is this?” I shake my hand, fist closed, and point to the motion.

“HAND NECK!!!!!”

“Well, in Korean, yes… but… wrist.”

————-

“What is this?” I point my finger in an upwards motion toward my nose.

“NOSE… TUNNEL!!!”

And with a lingering burst of laughter: “Well… close. Nostril.”

————

Yet, the best moment of all is as follows:

A bubble of conversation spreads across the room, and Mr. Choi approaches the chalkboard with a cloud of thoughts gathering across his face.

“Amanda, the students want to know, is chest… here…”, pointing slightly below the neck of the stick figure, “… or….”, as he timidly points to the cross-section of stick figure’s torso and arms, tapping the board a couple times before asking, looking at me with honest and innocent inquisition, and another pregnant pause, “…. or…. here?”

The students, all girls, mind you, roar in laughter and look at me with equal parts confusion, curiosity and expectance.

In honesty, I’m not sure how to answer, though I understand their confusion and waver between asking Mr. Choi to turn around as I draw and label breasts, hoping it is both within cultural bounds and not embarrassing to Mr. Choi and my all-female class, all the while wondering how in fact I would draw the picture (a squiggly line would win), and, in full knowledge that the students would diligently copy the squiggling line into their notebooks, which Mr. Choi would obviously see… or maybe Mr. Choi wants to know, too? And, as my confused, hesitated pause drew too long, Mr. Choi, blushing, spoke abruptly:

“Oh, we understand. Sorry.”

Torn between giggles and bashful looks, teachers and students alike, we decide to move on to belly.

And so the unanswerable question remains, which would be so easy to answer if not for the concern and respect and bashfulness in regards to areas of the body privy to secrecy and thus unable to be labeled on stick figures in public schools.

Maybe their translators can help, but probably not. How could you know which of the great variety of words to use? Language is endlessly complex and baffling. This same issue, so humorously laid bare in my classroom, is manifested worldwide, even within the mother tongue.
It was fun, however, to explain to one bold outburst, a nonchalant, “Oh, that?”, and as I turned to draw smell lines coming out from beneath the arm of the stick figure, much to the shrieking horror of the class:

“That’s an armpit.”

“Teacher! OHhhhhhh!”

“Yes, hello. How is your mind map? Let me see.”

“OOHHHhhh Teacher, ohhh…” Pauses, points excitedly to eye, “Oh Teacher! Uh… eye… eye… Teacher, uhhh.. eye… brow? Oh! Very… buruupdefkjenglongphraseofKorean.”

“Oh, yes. Eyelashes.” I pull out paper where mind map should be but which is just a faux- mind map with circles and scratched, careless lines, flip it over, draw an eyeball and label eye, eyelash, eyebrow, figuring I’d try to sneak a little English anatomy vocabulary in her repertoire… “Eyelashes.”

“Yes! Teacher! Yes! Bverry…”

“Yes, very long, I know. They’re annoying.”

“OOOHHH, LONG, Teacher, long, woooaaaah! Teacher, me, my….”

“Very short, yes.”

Short pause to let the cluster of four students chatter in excited Korean as they marvel about long and short eyelashes, before, “Mind map?”

“Oh, Teacher, no.”

She looks at me for a moment before she shakes one finger, full of sass and I-don’t-speak-Engrishee attitude, “Teacher, no.”

“I sorry… where you from?”

“Migook saram imnee-dahh. I’m from America. Migook.”

“Ohhhhhh!!! Odee (muu muu muu) ….?”

“Minnesota, you know Minnesota?”

“Oh, Yes! California!!!”

“Um… no. Umm.. Chicago. You know Chicago?”

“Ohhhhhh, California! Ooo-upeedah! Ooouu-peediaaaa, beee-yooo-teee-fuuull, you beaaaauuuteefulll, understand? (Motions toward face) shoooop, small! Beeeyoooteeful. Eeeyyyyes, beeyooooteefulll, you know? Nay, beeyyoouuteeeful eyyyes.”

“Yes, okay, thank you. Cahm-sahm nee- dah.”

“Ohhh, I sorry, Engrisheee very…. I no speak-ee Engrisheee…”

“English is very difficult, I know.”

“Naaaay, difficult! I no speak-ee Engrisheee, veeeeeeery difficult!!!!”

“Cahn- chan-ayye-yo, I know, arr-ayo, It’s okay.”

“Okay? Okay. Beeeyooouteeful. Okay.”

[Monday night sample of conversation after random encounter with the teachers from my friend’s school, eating Samgyeupsal. There may or may not have been several bottles of Soju involved to spur this particular case of enthusiam. None of the factors involved are uncommon.]

And there you have it.

The semester begins in a flurry, teachers running around like crazy, lesson plans constructed spur of the moment, schedule changes ringing in as quickly as the bell rings to begin class, the water pot steaming constantly and the loud slurping of teachers on that sweet, sweet traditional sugar-cream dixie cup of coffee a continual hum in the background as the phone rings, students clatter in the hallways, highlighters and white-out sticks and pens, pencils scraping in their sharpeners, feet clattering across the office floor, fingers tapping on keyboards, the rhythm of the printer spitting out sheet after sheet, hot off the press, snipping slurping ringing speaking laughing screaming eating running printing tapping talking paper people voices:

the school year begins, and I couldn’t be happier, eager eyed- first year students that gasp in surprise as I walk in the room, excited second and third year students that cheer to see me, familiar with me and I can chat away at least half an hour, happy to see them, eager and my desk is covered with paper, colored pencils sketching out the hours of the day in an attempt to code my lesson plans, sunshine leaking through the shades to spill on my desk, a headache leaking in between my eyes and I realize I forgot to drink my morning coffee in the flurry of bells and lessons and students and

I am happy, who knew teaching was so much fun!?

I cannot tell you how pleased, proud, happy and amazed I am with the outcome of my winter camp at school. A month ago, my co-teacher came to my desk and told me I would have two weeks of class during winter vacation, and that I would have roughly twenty students for two hours a day, every day.

The students that chose to attend my winter camp had no idea what the class would entail: they only knew that they would be studying English with Amanda-teacher for two weeks, and solely for that, they put their name on the list.

I had absolute freedom in the scheduling, planning and execution of winter camp. Two hours a day with nineteen students, and I got to make all the lesson plans, balance the difficulty of learning and speaking English between writing exercises, my own story- telling, speaking games and crossword puzzles. I got to see the same students day after day, meaning I could assign writings and grade them, hand them back and watch their writing improve over the duration of the two weeks…. amazing.

On the first day, I announced to my students that we would be doing Skype dates with my parents, my little sister and a handful of her friends. My Korean students are well aware that I have a sister who is very close to their age, and the news both excited and terrified them.

My two weeks of lessons consisted mainly of exercises which would allow my students to face the computer screen with confidence and carry on a five to ten minute conversation in English with an American high school student that is very close to their age.

They did stunningly well. Throughout the two weeks, my students wrote essays, scripted questions and practiced speaking with each other, revised essays and created self-bios that I sent on to their future conversation partners, practiced and practiced and finally, in too quickly, the end of the second week came.

Yesterday we spend the day doing “warm-up” Skype dates, chatting with my mother, my father, and three of my very best friends from home. It was a free-for-all conversation, in which my students ran up and crouched in front of the computer with questions, excited to meet my family and friends, excited to speak in English and be understood, proud to understand and answer the questions asked of them.

Today came, and the Korean students went in pairs to the computer to greet their new American friends and future pen-pals. I will let the pictures speak for the two hours of giddy conversation, but let me just say that I am unspeakably proud of my students, and incredibly grateful for the very many friends that eagerly sacrificed sleep in order to experience a small part of my Korean life.

It was really an incredible experience. I cannot express enough how proud of my students I am, and how grateful I am for their honesty and earnestness in welcoming me into their life with open hearts.

<3 "The very best thing you can be in life is a teacher, provided that you are crazy in love with what you teach, and that your classes consist of eighteen students or fewer. Classes of eighteen students or fewer are a family, and feel and act like one." -Kurt Vonnegut, Speech at Clowes Hall, Indianapolis, April 27, 2007 [caption id="attachment_229" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="American high school students crowding in the screen to say hello."][/caption]

The first two students to go: excitement!

Two more students, Dayna and Jada.

Three of my most shy students. 🙂 Ava, Elly and Jane.

Students Jessie and Piona.

Students Leah and Emily, my bold and loud students.

The smiles are mirrored on both sides of the screen.

Two more students, shy but eager, Sophie and Jenna.

All of my Korean students wave goodbye!

Group photo with my whole winter camp class.

Today is busy. Crazy busy. Actually, yesterday was busy too. And the day before that was equally insane. Final exams have finished, which, after my first lame-duck day of sitting around keeping my office chair nice and warm, ended up being… insanely busy. I proctored exams for first and second grade and, coincidentally enough, being that third graders already took their final exams weeks ago, I got to teach my third grade classes between the hours I proctored exams.

There are different kinds of busy here in Korea, especially for me. We’ll try to categorize them as follows:

Days when everyone is busy. When everyone is busy, which happens all the time, nobody tells Amanda when there are schedule changes. This results in Amanda-teacher being extremely flustered with a full schedule of classes. Oftentimes, the classes I’m prepared for will be cancelled, which usually happens in one of two ways: (1) As I’m walking out the office door, arms full of papers, coffee clutched in my right hand, I’ll hear a, “Oh!” from behind me. In previous weeks, I would continue walking and get chased down the hallway by Mr. Choi, but nowadays I’ve learned to turn around and raise both eyebrows inquisitively while Mr. Choi, one of the two, will tell me, “Amanda, your class…. cancelled,” to which I reply, “Oh, okay,” and sit. (2) Other days I make it all the way out the door, down the hallway, down two flights of stairs and across the courtyard to my classroom, chilly and empty, and wait. Some days I wait for up to fifteen minutes before I give up. Other days I just turn around and head on back to my chair- warming duties.

On the other hand, it is not unusual for me to begin to relax, preparing eagerly for an hour of casual sitting, coffee- sipping and class prepping when suddenly, with two minutes before the next period begins, I will hear a click click click of Mrs. Gang’s heels crossing the office before she appears above my right shoulder and tells me, “Amanda, you have class, now.”

Some days I’m cool as a cucumber, lessons planned, and I can do it.

Other days I have no lesson plan for the unexpected schedule change, am flustered from already teaching three classes that day, one of which probaby had 38 crazy students that I unexpectedly had to teach on my own, or I haven’t had my morning coffee, don’t want to re-teach the lesson again, desperately need a break or am dead-beat exhausted from working so many 12-hour days at school, and this is when I want to cry and wail, “WHY DIDN”T SOMEONE TELL ME????? I CAN’T DO THISSSSSSS ANNYYYY–MOOORREEEEE.” This feeling is usually accompanied by desperate attempts to stifle the hot, rising panic and those tricky little tears of anger/ frustration that are always trying to sneak out of my eyes at exactly the wrong moments.

An example of the wrong moment for tears: when standing in front of 18 eager Korean students, crazy and talking and all over the room, a giggling, crazy, paper- throwing, chair- pulling wrestling mess of students, knowing you have an hour with them and can’t seem to solidify your mind enough to decide which activity to start the class with.

As it is, today is a different kind of day. Those kinds of days are the days I don’t have time to write. Today is a day when:

Everyone else is busy. Let me paint out the scene for you. I arrive at the office and nobody is sitting at their desk. People are everywhere, teachers and students. Papers are everywhere. Everything is a flurry of activity and nobody sees me come in the door, walk through them, and sit at my desk. Mr. Choi doesn’t turn to me and happily say, “Good Morning.” There will be no conversation with me for the better part of the day. The bell rings for class and the flurry of motion carries on, oblivious. About ten minutes after the bell rings, everything is quiet and empty in the office.

I have come to learn that this is the kind of day when my classes are usually cancelled.

And, sure enough, half my classes today are cancelled!

Cheers.

Awesome discovery of the day:

That little pile of dried sardines on top of a sticky piece of paper underneath the copy machine is, in fact, a mouse trap. There’s another one by the water fountain.

Apparently Mr. Choi smashing a mouse on the head with a stick wasn’t enough to kill off the entire mouse family. He must have impeccable aim, as he used the same wooden rod that is used to discipline the kids in school. Incredible office gratefulness as well, though I, myself, was enjoying the random shrieks throughout the week, immediately followed by the male-teachers patrolling the office, wooden discipline rods ready and waiting, kicking desks and attempting to scare out the mouse.

I’ll take little piles of sardines as an adequate substitute.

So goofy.

As an editor’s note, I realize that my English is a little slaughtered in this note, but I’m pretty tired and overwhelmed by the tidal wave of Korean that I’ve been swimming in, and can’t seem to understand how, or why, or where, the precise slaughtering has occurred, so, despite the longevity of breathless sentences, and possible usage of incorrect wordage, in this blog post, in which, everything seems, to go, insensibly, on, and, on, and on, forgive me.

Since it’s been awhile since I’ve posted some pictures, here are some super cute ones of my students.

Last week was the big entrance exam for University that the 3rd grade students have been preparing for all year. It has been described to me as an equivalent of the SAT, though I’m certain that comparison is made only for lack of anything in America with greater equivalency.

Cluster of students with sign.

In Korea, the entire community is aware which day is testing day. Every effort is made to keep silence in the vicinity of the school. First and second grade high school students get the day off. The middle school next to me got the day off, for they would be too loud and consequently distracting to the third grade test- takers.

The third grade students spend the entire year preparing for this exam: they study vocabulary in mass quantities. They take practice exams every week. They are constantly testing, constantly studying, constantly preparing for this exam. Keep in mind that Korean high school student do very little other than study: many of them live on campus and only get to go home every other weekend. From what I understand, there are no after school clubs or sports. Instead of spending time in track and field, or in the National Honor Society or playing four square or playing in the pit orchestra for the school musical, Korean students will attend extra classes. Sometimes students have to leave extra classes early in order to go to Academie, which is basically private, expensive, concentrated school.

Waiting for the 3rd graders to exit the building....

What do Korean students do on the weekends? They sleep, watch drama or variety show on TV (Korea is famous throughout Asia for their television shows), or study. Many students attend Academie class on Saturday evening and take exams for Academie on Sunday. Korean students are expert study-ers and test- takers.

So basically, this University exam is the pinnacle of years and years of studying. If they do poorly on this exam (which, I feel, is unlikely), they may not be able to attend their University of choice, consequently losing the opportunity to prepare for and get their job of choice, consequently losing their lifestyle of choice. It’s a big deal. Stress levels are high, to say the least.

Two days before the exam, the first and second graders piled the third graders high with gifts and chocolates. The day before the big exam, many of the younger students made a cheer line outside of the school while the third graders filtered out to go home. It was really sweet, lots of cheering and laughing and freezing, but a very happy event. I’m so happy I brought my camera along and manage to catch some shots– also, while these students may all look similar to you, and their faces blend together with their uniforms as they once did for me, it’s really neat for me to realize that I recognize them. These are my students. They already have stolen a warm part of my heart– I see their smiles, their squirming faces as they try to communicate to me on a daily basis, their cheerful hellos in the hallways, their giggling Korean that I cannot understand… they’re my students. I’m proud of them. It’s an incredibly special feeling to have, and I’m grateful to the experiences that have led me here.

Bashful, giggling third graders as they are cheered to by their younger classmates.

A couple students grabbed me and yelled, "Teacher, teacher, picture, you!" These two are super giggly happy girls that are always giddy to see me. <3

While we’re on this sentimental note, I’ll just end with this last thought. I have been teaching extra classes after school, and three nights a week I teach in two- hour blocks to anywhere from six to twelve students. Every other week the classes swap, and occasionally I have a new student or two trickle in. It’s amazing some days, how I leave class and though I am exhausted, and oftentimes go home and immediately collapse in bed only to wake early in the morning again…. it’s really amazing, the warmth in my heart I feel towards these girls. They try so hard for me, and I try for them, and though some days we only play games, other days we work really really hard to find words to express what they want to say. It’s incredible.

Some days it’s really tough, but I’m blessed to be here and I’m grateful for their eager hearts.