My Apartment

All of you have been bugging me about how my apartment looks. “Oh, Jon!” You ask ever so innocently, “What is your apartment like? Do you have all the space in Korea? Can you swim in your bathtub? Can you see Russia from your house?” Ok, I honestly don’t know how many of you asked even one those questions, but I know a couple of you have thought it (in between fantasizing about strolling through San Diego wackin it and wondering if that thing on your toe is a mole or a bot fly larvae). Any way you cut it, my life is apparently the gravitational center of yours (thank you) and you are dying to know. I figure that I can then approach this two ways: 1) get you on skype right now and give you a tour of my place or 2) tell you to stuff it and come visit me where I can give you a literal tour of the place. Since I do not have internet to do 1) and you don’t have time or money do to 2), then we must invariably compromise. As I am more generous than our Federal Government when it comes to compromise, I will do the following: post some freakin pictures so that you will get off my back. If you do not like this compromise, come up with a better idea. No? Don’t have one Mr/s. Smart McAleck-pants?! Didn’t think so. (Miserable jackals…)

The Hall.

This is my hallway. Bask in its straightness and its cluttered accouterment. I have a stove (kind of), room to walk (kind of) and room to wok (ha! PUNNY!). That’s a glorious fridge you see on your right behind the stove (which is that thing next to the sink hidden by kind-of-clean dishes), and trash on your left (next to that shelf-space for my ramen. And bread). As you will notice, I was very careful to take this picture from outside my apartment. This required much hardship on my part as I was forced to scan the landing for several minutes, making sure that no one was coming to find some weird white dude only partly wearing his shoes and taking a picture of an apartment. So, several furtive fakes and aborted attempts later (I juked the hell out of that defense), I give you this shot. If you do not stop right now and look at it again, I won’t really know, but I’ll know. So appreciate it! The reason I went through such mental agony was for that little section you see at the bottom. There is a small well where you see a mat and a lot of dirt. This section is where every person who ever entered, enters, or will enter the apartment removes their soiled excuses of outer footwear so as the unclean demons don’t jump all over my apartment. Yes, I know they must be small and stupid since so short a well clearly defeats them and they don’t think to utilize blades of grass nor other accumulated filth to scale the difference (good thing they can’t read computers either, right… right?), but who am I to refuse to join in a little bonding ritual like communal/cultural torture?

Now raise your eyes and imagine you are walking down the hall. No, you made it to the door already, trying to sneak a peek at the goodies in that white closet. You are so naughty! They are not for your prying eyes, sir/madam. First notice the doorjamb on your left. Behind said border is the bathroom, which looks like:

Le’ Bath!

Aha! Oh… it looks normal. Well shoot. Um. Hm. For those of you clever enough to notice that this photo is blurry, congrats, you have good eyesight. I did that to soften the harshness of seeing a bathroom. That and I don’t want you to read all of my toiletries and judge me (but if you can tell by shape and color, then you need a new hobby and probably shouldn’t call yourself “Buffalo Bill 2.” That’s creepy). Really, the only part of this that is worth seeing is that coiled silver snake that runs from the faucet to someplace hidden from view by the door. That snake is not my bathroom Transforming (creepy, but cool. I call it Cooreepy, cuz Creepool sounds creepier than creepy. And it sounds like creeople which is used to describe creepy people, leading to mass homophone confusion). That is my showerhead. Yeah, my shower comes from my sink and yeah, my whole bathroom is my shower. Oh, and yeah, that mirror is directly where I shower. “Good morning!” “Um, never mind, you are way to gross (I slept with that??? I need to stop drinking and get my life in order…).” Needless to say, I have to work on my smile, lest my mirror-world-me Psycho’s me in the perfect crime. The only real danger I have (because I have a killer smile, thank you) is that I don’t spray my toilet paper with the shower. Haven’t done that yet, which has done wonders for my confidence.

Now if you leave the bathroom and walk straight ahead (that would be the right side of the hallway, good job with lefts and rights) you see this lovely room:

My-ke Lau-ndry.

That is my laundry room! Notice the exquisite décor, the beautiful sash, the dusty everything, and my sad little washing machine. Poor guy needed a bath when I showed up cuz it was black. Notice the color now? Not black, you say? Well then, thank you, I clean up nice (I know it is grammatically correct to say ‘well’ and not ‘nice’ because I teach English, but no). “But, Jon!” you exclaim as you perch on the edge of your seat for a closer look, “Your dryer seems to have leapt from the window in response to all that oppressive dust, for you do not have one!” How astute! You really are my smartest friend/family member/former professor! As I smile devilishly, I will inform you in a very conspiratorial manner that: I do not have one 😉 (that’s a sly wink). Indeed I use various racks and other 12th century technology to achieve approximate dryness for my clothes. Unfortunately, this has led to a general stretching of clothes since I cannot put them in the dryer and I may have to stoop to the level of that percipient Weezer line and start workin out at the gym to fit my underwear (you just sang that to yourself in your head didn’t you. Go on, go back and try to read it without singing, and all you do is end up William Shatner-ing it into broken syllables. 2/2?). But enough about my curious cleaning closet! If you simply pull your head out of this closet and turn towards your left (top of the hall) you will see this picture:

The Arena.

Ah, yes. My master bedroom/activity room/living room/office/computer room/dining space/meditation room/gym/entertainment room. That is my bed you see in the right corner and a closet you see straight ahead of you. Now for the rest of the room:

The Gateway to The Arena. And the Vomitorium of the Arena (a.k.a. The Window).

The Palatial Cloud-Pallet of His Holy Highness (Protector of the Realm and Righteous Defender of the Downtrodden). With quaint music box for sweet night-notes and luminary device for mitternacht musings.

Admire. Praise. Wonder at it all. Ah, tis beautiful, I know. A bit on the bland side, even for a minimalist like myself, but it does have such lovely charms (you made it to 1218 again! Woohoo word count!). For example, that bed you see on the floor is a combination box spring and mattress without a frame since that apparently broke under the last occupant. That bookshelf has many tomes of vaulted learning from which I have begun to sample – Sedaris’s Naked, Hesse’s Steppenwolf, some Coelho, Kafka, Korean for Dummies, Tolstoi’s Sebastopol, and so forth – that would surely have made me the pre-eminent intellectual if I were to start college right now in some place like UVM (get it? A place where I could smoke weed and be, like, way deep man on philosophy). Truly, though, I am enjoying the selection that the previous occupants have left and hope that my own contributions of Epic Fantasy and Terry Pratchett don’t make me the intellectual runt of the litter. Always good to keep reading! But enough about books: that window you see above my bed looks into the beautiful alleyway/driveway next to my apartment building and. Perhaps you have noticed that there is a sheet hanging over that window. That’s because it is bright in the morning and there are no blinds. That delightful piece of pea and olive cloth is ripped from the sheets. So I sleep on that stuff (Oh. The. Horror.). Not that that hanging tatter actually does anything – I still wake at 6 from the magnesium display that charges through – but it is a good measure until I do something about it. At least I have my music with me!

In all truth: I think this is a great apartment. I am in Korea, living in a pretty much free apartment where I only have to pay for utilities, I have everything I need (or soon will), and I can walk to work in 2 minutes. Hot soup! I’ll decorate my room a bit with my Bonnaroo tapestries and it’ll be a step up from college. Now writing all of this has exhausted me, so I am going to sleep on that floor-mattress.

Strange Thoughts on a Wednesday Night.

Have you ever had the distinct feeling that absolutely no one was watching you? I imagine the religious and the paranoid don’t, but some of us are lucky enough to maybe someday experience such a feeling. And I don’t mean just that no person can see you – going up on top of a mountain or deep into the woods still allows for the remote possibility of a small rodent or bird to still spy you in the brush. I mean the state where you suddenly realize that there is no one looking at you. It is cliché now to say “It felt like someone was watching me, a small itch between my shoulder blades and the raised hair on my neck telling me to be careful,” or some such sentiment. But I cannot think of a time where someone told me that they knew that no living thing was near them or looking at them.

I got to ruminating upon this subject the other day while I was sitting in my apartment, lying on my bed underneath the window (dreading the moment when I finally lifted myself from my warm covers to start the day). There is no conceivable way that any living thing could have seen me where I was since I was underneath the windows and my door was locked and no one has a key except me. For as long as I lay in this place, not a single entity could physically see me until I moved (or they busted in the door in fear of my rotting corpse lowering the resale value of the apartment). Yet I didn’t feel different before I started thinking about it.

Perhaps my ideas of privacy and anonymity are heightened by my current situation. By that, I mean that for the first time in my life I am not living with someone in any way shape or form. True, there was fall semester junior year when I lived in a single in Colonnades B 308 (still remember that, huh), but I don’t think I spent enough time there to call that my own place. Here in Cheongju, Korea I have an apartment, but no one knows the address or the PIN to enter the building (which is so far advanced that it should make America ashamed) other than the other residents. The administration of the school doesn’t even have another copy of the key. I am the only one with access (in theory) to my apartment. Also, people have no reason to call on me at my place of residence: no girlfriend, no roommates, no friends (not as in I have no friends, but if we all meet up, it is at an establishment), and no family. If I eventually run into anyone who lives in the 7 other units in this building, they are all Korean and we have a vast linguistic and cultural divide that cannot be completely crossed in the time it takes to walk down a flight of stairs. This is not entirely isolation since I see people every day at work or for weekend activities, but it is a strange place I cannot say that I have been to before (and I want to share that with you). Maybe you have been t/here and can more easily relate to what I mean, but I am struck by the newness of it all and want to show it off like a toad I caught on the lawn.

In addition, my room doesn’t have Internet and I have no phone. So, in essence, I am off the grid and my apartment is truly a sanctuary or enclave (or vacuole, if you are biologically minded) to provide a counterpoint to the entire outside world. The novelty! A first for Jon Ordog! What do I do with this? As you may know, I am a bit of a clean freak, but is that for me to be clean or for me to look presentable. If A, then I won’t have any problems staying clean. If B, then whenever you show up you can take pictures documenting the depths I will have fallen to.

I know that a lot of people talk about the freedom to just walk around their houses/apartments/rooms naked. Can’t say that I have ever had that or would want to, but I am now starting to understand it. I have probably achieved the highest level of privacy that I have ever known and it only took me a new job on another continent roughly 6,500 miles from home to achieve that. Yet I am also slowly becoming cognizant of the fact that with privacy comes independence (If you haven’t heard me talk about my ideas on self-reliance and independent strength, then we clearly need to stop this monologue and you can skip to some point later on, but in a nut shell: Hooray self-reliance! Boo weak communalists – unless it is really bad, in which case share because help is a good thing to seek!)

This independence isn’t just self-reliance on washing and cleaning and maintaining your life’s order (eat, shower, vacuum, laundry, do your work, etc.), but also independence of thought and freedom. Control over all aspects of life. Frightening. Very scary. As you know, I barely trust myself to make a decision over where to go for dinner or what movie we should watch, but now I need to take control of everything? I am supposed to budget my time around what I want? I am not at all suited for this! I like being the experienced support structure where I can be there or not, depending on your desire to have an awesome time (“Snoo, a Follower” I hear someone sneer with contempt and a shaken head. “Whatever, egotistical jackass” I reply with apathetic scorn). So to have full responsibility on me, it makes me reel a bit. I want to do so many things!: learn Korean, martial arts or maybe just run (either way, get in shape cuz I look like a slug or a slug Voldemort), see Korea, learn 12 other languages (Spanish, Arabic (MSA, Levantine, Gulf, & Egyptian), Hebrew, Russian, Polish, Ladino, Esperanto, Hungarian, German, & I’m sure there are more that I can’t think of), write about what I’ve seen and done in my travels, write and read fantasy, be the best damn English teacher there is, study politics, create the perfect world order, make new friends here, keep in touch with friends back home, catch up on all the latest pop culture references (I’m caught up to speakeasies and calling attractive women “dolls” now, so I only have a little left to go!) and the list goes on and on and on and on. Oh, and travel the world. So much to do and I need so much sleep!

I guess I should bring this back to where I think this is all headed so that you aren’t as bored anymore. I am becoming aware that I was broadsided by this crazy little thing called privacy/independence that I want to label freedom. Much like a coma patient waking in the hospital bed, but without as many comforting faces looking over telling me that everything will be ok. I know you care, else you wouldn’t have read the 1218 words so far (Word keeps track at the bottom so you know while you type! Whoa!) so don’t you worry yourself on that account. It just so happens that this freedom I am feeling is a very curious beast that I am feeling for the first time. The pretty coat of desire and envy, the warm fur that seduces your embrace, the promise of strength stored in taught muscles of boundless possibility (I envision freedom as a Husky, ok?). All of this I want to share with you because I want you to know that I am thinking about you and have brought you along (I’m not Quick Ben, but I have magic of my own. Not doll-based either, so I’m nowhere near as creepy). Plus, I did ask for this. So, beggars who get their wishes can’t be revisionist (not as good as that other “beggar” line. I’d say mine *ahem* beggars in comparison). I’m sure I left some thoughts out, but hey, we’ll have more time to talk and I want to know: how’re you doing? What’re you thinking? How’s life?

Teaching

Teaching at a private, after-school enrichment, super-advanced, child-brain-developing school like Avalon is far more a treat than some may think. For those of you I have spoken with, I apologize if any of this is repetitive. If you are a co-worker or colleague reading this, I am by no means criticizing Avalon since that is not my intent (hooray for disclaimers!). I can comfortably say that my job resides somewhere between baby sitting, battling wills like a battle royale contestant, teacher, resident clown, and representative American (if I left out any hats that I wear, it is only because, like Mario, they are power ups). For example, in the past three days I have had the privilege of hearing the following in class (these are by no means exaggerations, and all spelling mistakes are artfully reconstructed to not sound as racist while maintaining verbatim authenticity):

“Teacher! Teacher, you are like big ugly alien” Oh, really, student? Am I? “Teacher! No, teacher! You are handsome!”

“Teacher! Teacher, you have small head! Really small head! And you are…*squints and measures head with forefinger and thumb, then counts body length in head sizes* 5 heads tall!” (What?)

“Teacher, Teacher! Teacher, hey, Teacher! Teacher!” Yes, student? “Nothing, Teacher!” (They find great hilarity in this one for some reason)

Julia, what is so funny? “Teacher! Teacher, you… ah… you look like Buldemore!” Buldemore? Julia, what is Buldemore? “Teeaacchheerrr! Harry Potter! You BULDEMORE *squishes nose*” Oh Voldemort? I look like Voldemort!? “Yes! Teacher look like Voldemort!”

“Teacher! You know Gangnam style? PSY? Do Gangnam Style!… Teacher, your face red. Why is teacher face red?”

“Teacher, you say bad word!” What bad word? “CRAZY! Teacher say CRAZY!” Crazy isn’t a bad word… go crazy saying crazy. ( A chorus of “crazy” erupted across the classroom.”

Otherwise, they are pretty decent. Sometimes they hit each other, sometimes they aren’t paying attention, sometimes there is some open hostility towards “Teacher,” but such is life with children. That is one thing I find really funny about this position, calling the teacher  by his/her position rather than by a name. No Mr. Ordog, no Mr. Jon, just Jon Teacher or Teacher. I have taken to calling my students “students” in self amusement (and I am the only one who finds it funny). I need little things to make it through the day, and this is a very big little thing. That and the knowledge that I am molding the minds of tomorrow (either meaning of molding works. As I said, little things). Also, walking through class and “dotting” kids with marker whenever they misbehave is another good one (thanks, Heather, for that little gem). The kids hate it and immediately wake up or stop and scream, “TEACHER, YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” The marker comes right off since it is dry-erase, the other kids get a laugh at the bad behavior, and the class is lightened a bit by the comedy of it all. So a win-win-win.

I have now taught for a whole week (made it, Ma, a whole week!) and haven’t been told that I was too unfit for teaching. I am not the favorite, by far or by any means. However, I understand that I am replacing one of the most laid-back and chill teachers and I am also brand new, so the other teachers are going to, naturally, be way ahead in that category. I’ll keep plugging along and making the best handouts, prepping as hard as I can, and generally being awesome until these kids love me and are fluent (passion and patience!). So, that said, I am going to retire for the eve and get some sleep so that all my creative juices can flow unimpeded.

Weekend Update

So there I was, lying in my bed at the thoroughly invigorating hour of 6 AM wondering to myself: why am I up on a Saturday? I went to bed 4 hours ago, so shouldn’t I still be asleep (it being Saturday and there not being school on that day). Then why was my alarm interjecting its bothersome head into my blissful sleep? Although I enjoy waking up to “Who Can It Be Now” as much as anyone, it is still far too early to think about “attacking the day” or other such nonsense. My second thought was “Where am I?” (it being my first night in my new apartment), which quickly segued into “I’m sleeping on a mattress on a floor, that’s nice.” So to recap: It’s 6AM on a Saturday, I’m not quite sure of my surroundings, and I’m feeling about as useful as a bucket of warm spit (very useful if in the temporary-rusty-hinge-lubrication-business, but not much else). After wrestling with personal demons (dozing in and out while cursing the bright sunlight streaming into my room) I remembered that I had been conscripted to assist the other Avalon teachers in providing well-wishes and encouragement to our students in the form of candy as they entered the Ban-Ki-Moon competition. Ah yes, the illustrious competition I knew next-to-nothing about and had taught so much for. Get it? I started teaching on Wednesday! So I had taught for… precisely… 3 days. Yeah, sounds about right.

Finally rousting myself from the warmth and comfort of my floor-mattress, I headed to the bathroom and proceeded to try and figure out how to shower. This is not me being incapable of operating a shower so early in the morning, this is a very real investigation considering my bathroom is actually my shower and the shower head is attached to the faucet! Easily thwarting sleepy-eyes and the confusing knob (it turns to the left for shower, right for faucet), I proceeded to turn my bathroom into a typhoon. Emerging from said maelstrom without any major injuries or complications (such as soaking the toilet paper), I then dressed in my driest clothes and met my co-workers at school for our busing to the Ban-Ki-Moon competition. Oh yeah, a bus trip at 7 AM!

We arrived at the competition and formed up into an impressive display of foreigners holding candy and little plastic bags with information on Avalon inside them. It was about that time we realized that we were there to encourage our students, but also serve as advertising for Avalon. Oh yes. We were truly a display for the parents bringing their students as to the impressive resources of the Avalon English haegwon (private academy for enrichment) for increasing enrollment. Feeling like I needed another shower (and it being only 8:45) we departed and were treated to a delicious morning fast breaking at the illustrious McDonald’s. As a brief aside: I do not drink coffee and asked for tea instead. Haru ordered and when he came back with the food he plopped down a can of orange juice. Perplexed, I looked at the can and back at him and he stared me straight in the eye and said, “They don’t have tea.” Um. What? This may sound racist, but even the American MacDo’s have tea. And in Korea they don’t? McDonald’s get on that. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and say they ran out because they had drunk all of it by 9:15AM (and doesn’t that sound even more racist? Well that’s what you get. I’m not perfect).

After breakfast a couple of us went to the Shi-Ne, the downtown where the major shopping goes on. Not much to say about that, except that it is a nice area that has everything from fashion stores to supermarkets (belts for 3,000 Won! That’s a leather belt for $3! Sure it’ll fall apart in a week, but whatever). After our 2-hour excursion we returned to our apartments. I finished Neil Gaiman’s American Gods (good book, I give it an 80, go read it) and took a short nap before rejoining the group for a pub quiz. As most of you college-people know, I’m not too helpful in these things unless it is something like “Who wrote Lord of the Rings?” or “What linguistic family does Hungarian belong to?” The answers are J.R.R. Tolkien and the Finno-Ugric family of the Uralic, although it is debated whether that should even exist or not since the two main languages only share a handful of words (Finnish and Hungarian). Thanks wikipedia for helping me procrastinate my college work (and look at you learning)! Now I’m tapped out and have nothing more to contribute. Well the pub quiz started at 6:00 (but didn’t actually start till 7) and we came in not-last. Not bad. Too much about movie quotes and having to identify horror movie villains, but generally it went pretty well (I got White Heat from “Made it Ma! Top of the World!” so at least DiNozzo is proud of me). Hopefully we will do better next month (yeah, monthly. Weak sauce action). After the quiz ended I went home and caught up on sleep, but first read several chapters of David Sedaris’s Naked. Having no idea what to expect in his book, I was a little shocked. I’ll see how I feel when I finish it.

Today I cleaned my apartment a little more and headed to the nearest café with free wifi to see what I missed in the world. At this point I realized how much I miss my Pulse app on my phone and like having a phone. Huh, weird. Met up with some other teachers at the café (Caffé Bene, no not a typo) and we went to a frog pond in a nearby park and relaxed in nature. How nice. But all this writing has made me conscious of all the time I’ve wasted. I’ll go clean my apartment and see what I can get ready for tomorrow. Time to start my first full week of teaching and I want to do well! Sorry about the lack of pictures in my posts so far, but I’ve kept forgetting my camera. Shucks. Let me know if there is anything in particular you want to hear about, or else you’ll get the same drivel I have been posting. I work better when we have a dialogue (despite my propensity for monologuing and lecturing. Haha). So send me a facebook message, an email, or a post here to let me know how you are doing and what you think. I hope to hear all about all of your busy lives! Believe me, they are fascinating. If you find this worth reading (and I’m not even trying to sound smart or find hidden meaning in everything – The essence of life is being, man. Especially in, like, being in a new place to know who you really are), so is your life to me. Oh, just so that the title isn’t misleading: here you go.

For the making rant-time!

This is a slight departure from the previous posts (I know, I know: with such variety of previous posts that isn’t possible). Instead of telling you about Avalon – it’s going well by the way and I haven’t been in any compromising situations (like killing a student or getting fired) – I will grace you all with some thoughts that have passed through my head in the previous few days. Interesting? I think so, but probably not. Sure to hold your attention? Maybe. Mind shattering out of sheer awesomeness? Definitely.

On the plane I realized you cannot listen to “Wake for Young Souls” by Third Eye Blind without smiling. Definitely want to try walking through a park on a sunny day listening to that one.

The refrigerator of the Four Seasons Motel (Motel, not Hotel) had three items in it: a glass, two boxes of juice, and two condoms. When I asked Haru (my co-worker/handler) about this, he chuckled and told me that some people think it increases stamina. So that was interesting.

Teaching is really hard. You have to navigate the class dynamic without letting the kids run the show, you have to finish the lesson of the day (but not too quickly lest you stand there looking like an idiot), but you also have to work with your co-teachers and management. So many expectations, so little me to go around!

I just moved into my apartment this evening, which still has a lot of stuff in it from the previous occupants (thanks, guys!), but I won’t have internet or a phone until I get my Alien Registration Card. Oh, that takes 4 weeks, by the way. So now I have no idea what I will do every morning…

My Red Sox are not performing as they should be/I want them to (read here as: they are last in the division and legal grounds for committing suicide in the state of MA). As such, I am slightly put off on the whole baseball season. My fantasy team isn’t doing much better. By the way, I have a fantasy team. Ha! Nerd!

I want to go back to that whole “no internet or phone until you get an Alien Registration Card (ARC).” Thanks, Korea. On the one hand I won’t be able to check my email on the weekends, skype home, talk with friends, chat with my associates here, find out plans about what co-workers are doing everyday, use the internet to teach me Korean/other fun educational things, and so forth. But then again: I’m off the grid!

Best lyric I have ever heard as far as pure rhythm and flow are concerned is still “Little old lady got mutilated late last night” from Werewolves of London. (Addendum: I hate Kid Rock. For those of you who don’t understand this, you are too young/have no taste in music/probably the spawn of Satan/stupid. Take your pick.)

I am still waiting for my trophy to go on my bookshelf that says: “Enhanced the 2012 election by not posting a single political comment on Facebook (because that is the perfect place to condense a complex decision into a single image and post it to the world, which totally achieves the aim of making you look intelligent rather than as a pompous idiot who is severely brain damaged)” This will go next to my trophy that says “This angelic saint did not once physically attempt the oft-desire (the raging kind that drives people into the most dire of straits) to kill every single person who posted a political message on a social media site”

For some reason, my music consists of Cake, Nappy Roots, and BT. Yeah, it’s kind of like that.

Well, enough ranting. I look forward to my weekend to explore Korea and see more stuff! I’ll let you all know what happens when I can. Oh and I survived my first week of teaching (1/2 week, but still…) Thanks, everybody!

First Day!

Sorry for not posting yesterday, but I was exhausted after my first day of teaching. Wow, that is weird. I’m not yet sure if I understand that I am in charge of some children’s education.

As of the last post I was still just shadowing Ben, but yesterday I actually started teaching classes all on my own (did I mention that already?! I’m a teacher, technically). I was nervous as all get out and had no idea what I would be getting into. All the other teachers seem to have this down to a science: they arrive around 1:30/2 and start prepping for their 6 classes, they finish by 3:30/40 and use the last ten minutes before class to mentally prepare for the storm. Meanwhile I am looking around, asking what I should be preparing, how often I should be preparing certain kinds of lessons (games vs. worksheets vs. class activities), how to control my class, what the schedule means, etc. (you get the idea: me like a deer caught in the headlights who tries to ask questions about what kind of car is about to hit me, whether those are new lights, how many other deer has this car hit, etc. until the car has already hit me because I haven’t moved). And, true to form, my first class of the day is known to have quite some trouble makers in it, so I needed to be on top of my game from the get-go (as if I am ever not on my game/in my game/naturally awesome). Plus I was armored with some words of wisdom from sagely Phil imparted in the most sanctimonious of places – the bathroom: Just remember that they are more scared of you than you are of them. Awesome. So my state of being was analogous to the case of a man stumbling through the woods when he comes across a pack of wolves. So armed and forewarned, I assembled my worksheets, teaching books, any shreds of dignity and confidence I had remaining (running slightly above E here, kids) and walked to my class (gallows? I need to check my dictionary…). Entering the class of howling banshees I called them to attention, which achieved roughly nothing, before then raising my voice to a level that could be misconstrued as a booming yell. They settled down fairly quickly, which in Korean terms means they put away their phones (mostly) and talked to each other in low voices in Korean. I don’t really recall much after that in that first class, except that eventually the bell rang and I hadn’t quite fully completed everything I had intended to accomplish. Oh well.

My next classes went far more smoothly: my younger kids were very polite, quiet, didn’t need to be disciplined, and participated all the time. So we flew through everything I wanted to get through and had a little time left over for extra conversation! Woohoo! I was 1 and 1 on the day! The class after that went just as well, as did the one following, putting me up a cool 3-1 and lifting my confidence and professionalism to new heights! Excelsior! Then came the middle school kids for the last two classes of the day. Those two went well as far as establishing myself as a teacher, but not as stellar for completing everything I wanted, leaving a few crumbs to mop up next class. So I’d say I finished around 4-2. Pretty good first day. I didn’t hit anyone. I didn’t swear at any kids. I laid down the law a couple times (PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER!). And not one of the kids attacked me. S. U. C. C. E. S. S. that is how you spell success!  It probably helped that I bribed them with candy… but I’m not ashamed.

Now I need to finish this post and go back to prepping for today. Much excitement and little idea what to do! With enthusiasm and confidence I can do anything! So to paraphrase Homer: Damn the torpedoes! We ride d’Artagnan!

P.S. Thank you everyone for your well wishes. They were greatly appreciated.

To start magnificence teaching!

Hello to the people! This post is just covering silly school stuff, so feel free to skip if you so desire and you can catch me at another post of light-hearted whimsy. We’ll see if I can get into my normal groove today, but it may take me a while/not happen. I must confess: I am not totally in my fully confident state of mind, from which my witticisms and enthralling charisma stem (I know, I know, how can you all resist?). You see, yesterday (Monday) and today (Tuesday) are my only two days of orientation/acclimation to the Avalon English Academy before I take over the classes for myself this semester (on Wednesday). I have been shadowing Ben (who is all that my colleagues have made him out to be) in his classes and observing the class dynamics: how the students interact with each other, how Ben controls the students, Avalon’s expectations of its teachers, what preparation is necessary for which classes, and the teacher/office dynamic. All very important things to ease myself into, especially since I am taking over for Ben mid-semester. Not only am I coming in mid-semester, but – and I wouldn’t have known this by the calm, cool, and collected co-teachers – this is apparently one of the more hectic weeks at Avalon since there are several contests and tests and special days which have disrupted the normal flow. The way I see it, this means I get bonus learning in the form of added stress management, glimpses of non-standard material, and the teachers being more willing to share pointers on the unusual. Lucky me!

Yesterday was my first day at Avalon and I would be so bold as to declare it a success (read here as I didn’t get fired already. Or hit a kid.). I went in early – roughly 1 PM – to meet the directors and get a brief tour of the school. Around 2-2:30 the rest of the teachers arrived and began their 2 hours of preparation before their classes start. I was given leave to ask questions, observe, and learn what I could about daily prep (and was given a temporary desk! Yay!), trying what I could to fight through my sleepiness to perform professionally and intelligently. One of the first things I learned was that they have a Monday-Wednesday-Friday group and a Tuesday-Thursday group (MWF/TTH), so the same group of kids comes on MWF, but not TTH and vice versa. So yesterday being Monday, Ben’s first class began at 3:50 and his schedule (mine as of Wednesday) continued for six classes straight. Meaning class from 3:50 until 9:15 or so. No breaks. All: CHARGE! So you have to be ready by the time initial prep ends or else you are going to have an even looooonnngggeeeerrrr day (we also don’t leave the school until 11, so that is 2:30-11 for those of you keeping track). He has a good group of classes and the kids seem like typical elementary and middle school kids, but with fewer qualms about using cell phones and hitting each other. I hope that the TTH bunch that I meet today will go as smoothly! Oh, and today I’ll have my first mock lesson in front of some of my fellow teachers, so we shall see how that goes!

I am very excited to see how this all goes today and I hope to learn a lot more from Ben, Jesse, Phil, Andrew, Chris, Heather, Josh, Ken, Daniel, and the rest.  Any pointers before I start tomorrow? Cuz this guy is freaking out a bit right now… Not as bad as tomorrow I’m sure, but still, I’m getting there.

P.S. I must publicly apologize to Josh Godo and rectify the error I made in my last post in stating his age as 25. He is 24 until mid-November.

Of the Making Glorious Journey!

If you are reading this, then you are clearly a literary masochist. Or maybe the equivalent of a fascinated car-crash-watcher. Either way, get yourself checked, sir or madam, as you have a serious condition that I aim to use and abuse in vainglorious attempts to satisfy my ego. Thank you. You are so kind.

As you can guess from my title (not at all a broken English translation of something that sounds vaguely racist), I have arrived in Korea. Yay! Said feat of derring do began on Friday morning at 7:45 departing Boston to Chicago O’Hare, where I transferred to a noon departure for Seoul, and ended at Cheongju on Saturday at 7:15 PM (local time) at the bus station. How much fun were my flights, you ask? Were they hassle-free, you also ask? Did you engage in illicit acts and end up getting taken out by security, one of you asks (you’re in the back and wearing a hoodie, but I will find out which one of you it is!)? No, I didn’t, in answer to that last question, which was clearly voiced by a deranged lunatic who probably enjoys herding lemmings off of cliffs. Again, get yourself checked since you are clearly in need of severe emotional and mental assistance. Can we be friends after you query so in public, especially in light of my readership of esteemed colleagues and former professors (see previous post) which has so dearly embarrassed me? I will forgive, since that is always in my power, but we shall see about reparation. We shall see…

But otherwise, yes, my flights were delicious, fun, and hassle-free. I sat next to a Dave Castoldi on my flight from Boston to Chicago who was a 70 year old grandmaster of jujitsu (10th degree full red belt of awesomeness) and trained under several notable figures in the martial arts world such as Professor Wally Jay (one of the guys who trained FREAKIN BRUCE LEE). Mr. Castoldi (Grandmaster Sensei Castoldi? I am terrible with titles) was very talkative and shared many fascinating stories about his “street self-defense” programs and even proffered a few sagely proverbs in the course of our three hour flight. He even showed me a couple finger locks! Cool! My flight to Korea was a little less eventful. I sat next to a grandmother and her son’s father-in-law who were on their ways to Vietnam to visit family. How… familial. I do have three important items of note from this flight, however, and they are life-shatteringly important. First, I flew over Russia. Suck it. Suck it long, suck it hard, I have pictures of Siberia (crappy ones, yes, since apparently when I asked for a window seat not over the wing, the counter-lady decided to put me at the back of the wing). Notation: for those of you who don’t know, I have a slight fascination with Russia and Siberia. And I have pictures, so I have that going for me, which is nice. Second, I watched the Avenger’s movie. I give it a 6/10 simply because the plot sucked, it was a comic book hero movie (which means the plot sucks and the dialogue is generally equivalent of Terrence and Phillip), there was little consistency in characters’ actions, and so many actions occurred for no apparent reason (other than simple “we must move the plot in this way, quick make it happen now”) that it made the plot suck and kept pulling me out of the movie. However, I give it all 6 points because of the one part where Hulk side-face-fists Thor out of nowhere (By the way, f*@& Marvel for turning a demi-god into a whiny hero who would lose to Iron Man, do you understand what demi-God who wields a hammer that can unmake the world means???? His hammer can level a mountain but not crush Iron Man????). That scene was amusing, the rest of the movie wasn’t. Oh, and third I tried watching the Lorax. I valiantly dashed my pride and obduracy on the rocks of open-minded curiosity and genuine desire to be proved wrong by one of Dr. Seuss’s most magical books made into an animated film (despite the dubious choice of casting Zac Efron, Taylor Swift, and Danny DeVito), hat in hand and beseeching forgiveness since many of my friends have said “it wasn’t that bad.” My friends, you are no longer my friends. I could not get past five minutes. The opening song alone was akin to forking my eyeballs and being hit by a bulldozer in the ear-drums. Correction: I was Hulk-fisted. You caused this. You are why I can’t have nice things…

But that was about it from the flights. Lots of fun overall. Landing in Seoul was uneventful, getting on a bus to Cheongju was uneventful, and being greeted by several of my soon-to-be co-workers at the end of the line was a pleasant surprise. Expecting one person from the school administration to pick me up, show me to my apartment, and leave me to my wanderings, I was pleasantly surprised when I was instead received by a delegation of one administrator and three fellow “foreign” teachers (us white people being foreigners here in Korea, look at you learning!). Unfortunately, it would appear that the teacher I am replacing (Ben, a decent chap I am told) won’t be departing until Friday, so he is still in the apartment I will be living in, and thus I am ensconced in the Four Seasons Motel for the next week. Thus, the Delegation brought me to my new, temporary accommodations and gave me just enough time to divest myself of my baggage before we headed for dinner and drinks on the town. Ah, who are the members of such an august delegation, you ask? Aiee! I proclaim, remembering my lack of manners. The administrator from Avalon English was Haru (a very nice fellow) and the foreign teachers were a 31 year old from Nebraska (Phil), a 24 year old from Toronto (Josh), and a 25 year old from “Eastern Canada, in a place you’ve never heard of” (Jesse). We went to a Korean BBQ joint, introducing me to Korean dining (absolutely delicious) and the “sweet potato ‘vodka'” called Soju. Here we were joined by a fellow teacher, Chris, who is from Oakland and went to Stanford (and sounds almost exactly like Chali2na, for those of you who get that. Needless to say, I was kind of excited). After dinner Haru departed and we merry makers continued to a bar to play dominoes and drink more soju and beer, then to a karaoke establishment. Apparently karaoke in Korea (future album title. Claimed. No taking, you thieves) is slightly different from what we are used to in America, since you rent a private room and make an ass of yourself in private (Again with soju and beer. Sensing a theme?). I acquitted myself well, displaying my musical range from You’ll Be in My Heart (Tarzan you uncultured swine! Oh Phil Collins!) to Incubus and The Darkness (Why, yes, I do believe in a thing called love…) Phil and Jesse are the best harmonizers, Chris is a close second best at everything, and Josh and I are decent at lead (read here as: we sing the main melody and can’t do much else). Actually, Josh can sing the main melodies and I simply vocally vomited all over the walls of the private room until my chords died and have become the possible “screamer/growler” of the group. Did I mention there was soju and beer to assist? Ah, such is life.

This ended in the wee hours of the morning, at which point we all decided to head back to our respective domiciles. Psych! We went to a local convenience store and sat outside with our remaining beers and pine-bud-drink (yes, you read that correctly, pine-bud drink) to chat. When that all ended at 3AM, Phil assisted me in my 10 minute cab ride home where I was so tired that I slept for a full five hours (Get it? That’s not a lot considering I don’t sleep well on planes, trains, or plantains and I had been up all night and partying (which I need a further sub-notation to note: I don’t party often so I should be extra-tired) which should have helped me adjust better. Sarcasm! Look at you learning!) So I decided to dedicate my first hours on this Sunday (my last day of rest) to writing to you all, you selfish jackals.

So today I will try to further adjust time-zones and reduce my jet-lag and general fatigue while possibly getting a lay of the city and wandering to my heart’s content. Not the contents of my heart, but to the contentment. It’s not like I’m planning on using the day to meditate myself into a spiritual journey where I delve the deepest mysteries of my heart’s inner mystique to grow as an individual… I think that was last night (See: soju and beer and karaoke). So I will relax, use Monday and Tuesday to prep/shadow the teacher I will be replacing, and start on Wednesday. Trepidation and anxious excitement! Excelsior! I’ll try posting updates in the future, but I am told I will be very busy in the upcoming days…

Hello world!

A greetings to you all who have so bravely dared to read the first few sentences of my first attempt at a travel blog. I find myself more than slightly at a loss when it comes to blogging since I am a poor writer, at best, and a poorer writer when the subject is first person (For example I just wanted to write poorer writerer… I thought it was funny). And since I am writing for such a diverse audience – dear friends, meh friends, former professors, family, family friends (but not family professors I should think) – I may be writing in a tone or style that with which you are unaccustomed to me using. Therefore I apologize in advance for grammatical clumsiness, improprietous word choice, tonal disharmony, and other unfortunate writing-based side-effects of getting dropped down the stairs as a child. Well, since my apologies and fumbling introduction is a complete waste and you are still reading, I shall simply commence!

I am headed to Korea! Yay for me! For a year! To teach English as a Second Language in the esteemed and august Avalon Langcon English Academy! Such excite! I have been granted an opportunity to assist elementary and middle school children in the verdant and vibrant city of Cheongju, ROK (Republic of Korea, meaning South Korea, look at you learning!) in their efforts to master the confusing English language. Being so fortunate and realizing that many of my dear comrades have  not the same fortunes, I have taken such a burden upon myself to recount the events of my life over the next year so that you may all bask – er, share – in these riches. As I leave later today (it being well past my bed-time and my flight but hours away), I have endeavored in Herculean fashion to pack my belongings, muster my courage, and attempt to start a blog from state-side to state-side. I will let this slip and fall by the way side, I am sure, so if/when there is an obscene length of time since my last post, please contact me to resume writing. Or to inquire to my health as I may be suffering from some horrible life-threatening malady that you would feel very bad about not knowing. And just so my future self can’t convince you otherwise: laziness and “But I really don’t FEEL like it” are not life-threatening maladies that excuse not posting.

Oof, too much writing already. I’ll condense: I’m headed to Korea to fulfill the one-year teaching contract I signed for an ESL position at Avalon Langcon Academy. I am very very excited and look forward to this opportunity and wish to share some of my experiences with you all so that you know I’m alive and you can still influence my life. Providing perspective also helps, so anyone who is good at that will be welcome in the comments section (is there a comment section? I am so bad at this). I’ll see what I post over the next few days, but I’ll be flying, jet-lagggggged, and starting orientation! Woooooooo! Korea!