My Day At The Bank

I went to the bank today. Last time I went, it ended up with a shouting match. This time I was resolved to remain calm at all times. So' I spent the entire time LiveMessaging my beautiful fiancé . Fiancée? Which one is the girl? Anyway.....

Grosse Pointe Blank's Guide To ELT

Well, based on the positive response I received for my last ELT Blog, I felt I had to do another one! Byt he way, there is a glorious feeling having your views on teaching validated by a larger community of trained teachers. Thank you to everyone who complimented the last blog. It can currently be seen on my best friend Anne's blog . Check it out, not only for my piece but also for her great ELT works and thoughts.

So this week's blog is going to be based on one of my favorite films growing up. I feel it is quite relevant to the expat community, dealing as it does with going home after long absences. Sometimes it can feel like everyone else has been in a glass bubble and you totally, while of course, to your family and friends you're the same person you were when you first left. Frustrating, isn't it?

Anyways, I am talking about the great hitman comedy, Grosse Pointe Blank. This movie stars the Cusack Siblings, Dan Ackroyd, Minnie Driver and a bunch of indie specialists. John Cusack plays a hitman who is suffering malaise from his current life. His secretary suggests his return to his school in time for a ten year high school reunion. I heartily recommend this movie to anyone who likes, quick wit, sharp dialogue,  well set action scenes and Dan Ackroyd.
 
Martin Q. Blank: Do you *really* believe that there's some stored up conflict that exists between us? There *is* no us. *We* don't exist. So who do you wanna hit, man? It's not me. Now whaddya wanna do here, man?

This scene takes place between Martin and his highschool nemesis/jock bully. However, it could just as easily be between you and your students. All lesson long they've been the worst. Chewing gum, looking at you with "Juguleh" eyes, talking to their friend, playing on their phone, being a complete assclown. You berate them, you tried to work with them you used all your tricks. Nothing worked and have to admit the truth. This kid 'beat' you. 

Well, that's not true. Because the kid doesn't even think of it as a competition. As soon as the bell rings he does not think about you for the rest of the day. And when he comes to sit back down in your class, he won't remember your epic struggle at all. So, knowing that, are you really going to stress about how he is out to ruin your lesson? Are you going to build up a family feud that will last a lifetime? Grow up. You're an adult. He's a kid. Do your job to the best of your abilities and check your negative emotion at the door. Be a professional.


Debi: How come you never learned that it was wrong? That there are certain things you do not do, you do not do in a civilized society?

Marty: Which civilizations are we talking about?

Debi: Oh, shut up!

Marty: I mean, history...

Debi: Shut up!

Man, some kids never learn the right way to do things, do they? Like putting up their hands, or not  whispering the answer to their friend loudly so everyone knows they are the smartest person in the room. Like, not wanting to hug your leg when you walk through their kindy classroom? Like, not sleeping at the start of a lesson? Well, a lttle empathy here wouldn't hurt. Kindy kids like hugging people. Teenagers like to sleep. Smartarses like to shout out the answer. You cannot control everything in your classroom and trying to do so will make you super unfriendly in the kids' eyes, which makes your life harder, and it will make you more stressed which will make your kids' lives harder. Take a breath, be easy, be cool, be a fucking professional.

Martin Q. Blank: It's a poem? See, that's the problem... express yourself, Bob! Go for it.

Bob: "When I feel... quiet... when... I feel... blue..."

Martin Q. Blank: You know, I think that is *terrific*, what you have right there. Really, I liked it, a lot. I wouldn't sell the dealership or anything but, I'm tellin' ya... it's intense!

Bob: There's... more.

Martin Q. Blank: Okay, would ya mind, just skip to the end.

Whoops! Martin displaying a fail here. Teachers, your kid is opening up to you about someting they do in their private time. How about you don't belittle or ignore it. Some kids really want a mentor, an adult they can be themselves with. If they decide it is going to be you and you are seriously not honoured by that, I seriously question your motives for being a teacher. You're there to do your job, to be a role model. Do your job. Be a professional.


Debi: You're a fucking *psycho*.

Marty: Don't rush to judgment on something like that until all the facts are in.


Covered this thought process before in the earlier post but it is sooooo valid. We love to compartmentalize our students into good, bad, ugly, questionable meat etc, but let's just remember everyone has the capapcity to have a complex character, or at least a character with the ability to change their mood and personality. Psychos can be heroes on any given Monday. Princesses can be Alien Queens. Also,sidenote, if you are teaching eleven to thirteen years olds, the puberty is a nightmare for a teacher. You will ask yourself why is my student suddenly so truculent? She used to be such a darling! Hormones are a bitch. Just keep doing your job. Be a professional.

Bob: You wanna do some blow?

Martin Q. Blank: No I don't.

Don't do drugs. You're in a country that apparently loves to send foreigners to jail for doing drugs. Don't do drugs. Also, on a more important note, students love their downtime between classes. It can be tempting to join in and play with them  before you do, ask yourself if they should be playing this game on the school premises and whether you joining in is a wise career decision. Yes, middle schoolers play card games. I think the head teacher may have a problem if he sees you teaching those middle scholers how to three bet the turn in Texas Hold Em. Be a professional.

Phone Noir

Phone Noir.

The day began as ever, with hazy recollection of the night before.There had been Soju.  I knew that.  There had been shouting and finger pointing.  There was always those things with Soju.  

There had been boasting.  Manly boasting.  Big man boasting.  Anthony talking about his big brown beauty.  Nick talking about his woman and how they liked playing with her magic hole.  Jeremy and how his could light up his whole life. And I was jealous, gorram it.  Jealous like a fox.  And I said the stupidest thing ever.

"Fine.  I'll get a phone as well."

I swore I would never get a phone again, not after last time. I swore I would never go back.  I made a promise to myself, to my lady... Damn. 
 She might leave me if I got back into that world.  I walked away from all of that.  And now I was going to go back into the Lion's Den.  

I scribbled a note. "Gone shopping. Back soon."  The sin of omission weighed heavy like an Eskimo woman's nipple in the dead of winter. I pulled out my bag and felt the cold steel inside. History repeating.  I strapped the holster and checked my magazines were still oiled. 

I hate shopping for phones. 

I walked to SK towers.  I hoped I could avoid seeing him. There was enough blood poured on the pavement every day.  I did not want to add to it, one way or the other. The towers had three phone shops.  Get in, get the phone get out. Avoid the smartphones.  Avoid the contracts. Avoid getting contracted.  Avoid him. But the world has spun. The corner qook store, deserted.  The subway KTF, nothing more than whitewashed windows. The roadside LG, nothing but a pair of massage chairs left in the place. Someone had squealed. Someone ratted me out.



He knew I was coming.  He knew I was coming for a phone. 

I tried. I went to Beomeo.  I wanted to not go to that place again. I would do anything to avoid that place. I could not risk letting my inner beast unleash. I went to Dunkin and got my Cuppa Joe and a cream cheese beigel.  The girl seemed so innocent. 

"Do you know where I could buy a phone around here?"

"Oh no, sorry.  No phone stores here, David."

She knew my name.  Dammit! I felt a cold sweat, I wanted to pull the piece there and then and let hellfire take us all.  Get a grip. That's what he wants you to do.  I smiled and walked away. I looked next door where the Olleh Superstore put paid to her lies, put the punch line to his joke. 

Well, shit, two can play this game. 

I walked into the superstore and walked up to the prepay counter. The two salesmen looked at me uneasily. I looked at them hard and long like something pornographic. I sauntered over to one of the plastic desks and sat down.  I slowly ate my beigel letting crumbs fall on their floor. They looked at the floor, the ceiling, one of them even started to gorram dust the counter.  I chewed my last mouthful then stood up suddenly. They dove behind the counter. Pussies. Then again, this was never in their pay grade. They thought it would all be shiny suits and grabbing girls off the street. They didn't think I would ever be back. I thought about making an example of them. Then I remembered my mission. I wouldn't have enough bullets as it was. 

I walked to the door , my silhouette fill the room.

"Tell him I'm coming." 

______________________________________________

The subway ride was exactly as expected.  The carriage cleared as I sat down, two ajoshis staring at me from the exits. 


I stared dead ahead. History repeating.  Get the phone.  Get out. No contracts.  No 4G. No more blood than absolutely necessary. Banwoldang music playing like a bagpipe of retribution. I got up and tipped my hat to the old men. They shook their heads in amazement. 

"You crazy bastard, I hope you live," their blank gazes seemed to say.  Up into the sub mart.  Twin Ollehs marked their territory here. I knew it was futile.  I knew it was only sucking time from a vacuum.  I knew I wouldn't just do what he wanted. I walked into one and could feel the eyes from the salesmen from the other store throwing daggers. I knew I couldn't be long. My stoic outward appearance belied the manic laughter in my soul.  The monster was coming out of its cage. I approached the counter. 

"Hi, my son needs a phone.  We're looking for one of them iPhone Sixes with the Darth Vader hyperzoom big screens, bi enough to take a picture of the moon at scale. It's gotta have retina control, remote control, raisin control. You hear me, I want it to control raisins!"

"Um, no English ."

"Sure, I hear ya, I hear ya.  How about one of them satellite phones? I'm talking Vietnam, drop the rain!"

The unmistakable sound of lacquered leather shoes running made me smile at the poor boy. His friends were coming to save him. Only thing, who was going to save them?

I grabbed the boy and dragged him over the counter. I dragged him out to the fountain forecourt and threw him towards his five compadres. They skidded to a stop on the tiled floor. One fell in the fountain. 

"Boys, we can do the easy way or the -" I began. 

They screamed and ran at me. I smiled. Okay then. The really easy way.  

The blood washed well enough away.  The ajummas' screams would take longer. Focus.  Just get the phone. I walked past the police station. They were closed.  Figured. They would not want to get involved in this.  Not on this day.  Not after last time. 

Phone street. Son of a bitch. My own hell cycle.  Shop after shop after shop all run by the man, an army of ill fitting shiny suits and polo shirts.  A cacophony of K-Pop.  They all walked out of their shops and they carried enough to drop King king. All this for little old me. And then he came through them.  

Damn The Man.  He smoked his skinny cigarette like a Korean movie gangster, that is to say, like a geek sucks on a strawberry milkshake. He smiled his oh so cool little smile.  "He thinks he won," I thought.  "He might be right," a thought betrayed. "You're old. You might be too old to do all this again." "Shut up, brain. I have no time for you."

"David, it is good to see old customers again." Strawberry milkshake sucking.  "I thought we agreed it would be better if you didn't come here again. You chose your phone.  How is she?"

I smiled, masking my grimace. Hiding my torment. Stuck in WiFi purgatory, a mask of perfection hiding the grim inoperative reality.  

"I want a phone.  No reason to lose anymore of your boys". 

"We have many fine Korean smartphones.  Pick one. We have great two year contracts. Do you have your alien registry card?"  The Man started to laugh.  His men started to laugh.  Dammit.  The beast was already out. Oh well. 

"I don't want your skinny breakable pieces of shit that last two hours fully charged.  I want a brick. I want a solid piece of European fashion.  I want twelve hours at ten per cent. I want to play Snake and feel the luxury.  I want a gorram Nokia 3210."

The guns slid into my palms and the weight felt so good. 

"And no contracts!"

________________________________________________

....I don't know how much time passed. Hours, minutes, seconds, microns.  All I knew as I limped away blood coagulating around my calf, the smoke tearing my eyes, the screams pinging through my ruptured ear drums, all I knew was this.  

You couldn't change the situation.  This is phone town, Jack.  

But I got my phone. 

Smoper Fried Movie

Walking down my street, I do see some sites that constantly remind me I'm in Korea. The lettering, the large numbers of Korean people. (It's like they live  here.) However, my favorite reminder are the shop signs. There's a Papa Smurf all in green body paint and and a sign proclaiming Smoper Chicken. I lurve Korean pronunciation, I lurve associating Smurfs with Fried Chicken and I love this sign. I want to make sweet smoper to that smoper and smoper the hell out of anyone smopering my smopering.

As  an ELT teacher, I am awed and frightened by the ability to substitute any adverb, adjective, verb, noun at will with 'Smurf'. Well done, you cheeky little Avatars.

Walking down the street, I see bars called BMW, Porsche Volkswagen and a motel called Volvo. Apparently, after drinking has been recklessly associated with driving, you want to get your head down somewhere safe. 1980s Soccer Mom safe.  Did South Korea forget about copyright law, or am I missing something?

Ah, that's what I want to think about when I get sleepy. Sidenote, 1980s mothers were awesome see.here.

I could devote the entire post to the glory of these store signs. I am very tempted. I am so Smopering tempted, I really am. However, as an ELT ex pat teacher in South Korea, I think we should talk about the real issues.  After all, if we don't talk about it, how can we improve the situation? So, illegal downloading for a thousand please, Alex.

"I'm assuming it will involve a joke about your mother, Trebek."

In 2010, a very limited sample size of 8,500 people from 13 countries ( this sounds like its pathetic, no joke, I know more people than that in Daegu) showed South Korea was n0.2 in people who admit to downloading music for free. 60% of respondents went 'Yep, I totally did not pay for this.' The argument is they may have been listening to only snippets of songs so it's totally allowable under Korean Law. Um, what's that now?

30 seconds to a minute is just the tip of illegal downloading.

Ask people about downloading illegally in South Korea and you'll likely hear something like, "dude, it's fine. Just go toblahblahblah.com. Korea doesn't care." I thought that too. Then I read this back issue of The Economist. It states South Korea has THE TOUGHEST ANTI-PIRACY LAWS IN THE WORLD.
 

Say it with Brian Blessed's voice. Hell, say everything  in Brian Blessed's voice. Swoon.

So, what the hell, Korea? You are one of the most wired countries in the world. You have anti piracy laws but everyone (apparently) is downloading for free.

"
The dominant perception among many Koreans is that any downloading activities without the copyright owner’s permission is considered “illegal.” In fact though the Copyright Act of South Korea recognizes that reproduction of copyrighted works for private use is regarded as “fair use” under Article 30 of the Copyright of Act. Article 30 the Copyright Act states:

“A user may reproduce by himself a work already made public for the purpose of his personal, family, or other similar uses within a limited circle, not for profit purposes: provided that this shall not apply to reproduction by a photocopier set up for public use.”

Examples of reproduction for private use could include: recording TV drama to watch later, copying part of a textbook and converting a CD to MP3 for personal use. Downloading a movie from the Internet for private viewing is also protected under Article 30."


That little snippet is from free government info. If that's the case, then enjoy.

By the way, I am not condoning video piracy. I believe people should get paid for working and the Movie Industry are getting stiffed, which has all sorts of economic implications for the viewing public. This moment is not about that. I just want to know two things. One, is it illegal to download something in one country when it is made in another country where it is illegal? Two, If it is legal, why the hell do individual countries continue to exist when the Internet  connects everyone and circumvents national statutes?

I don't have all the answers. But I am adorable.

I guess it comes down to no follow through. If you break the law, there should be a punishment. When American laws fail to get the RIAA a final court settlement after Years of hounding Ms. Thomas-Rassett, it can assumed that it becomes prohibitive to pursue an individual downloading for their own perusal and pleasure. I can only imagine this situation will change in the future but, for now at least, illegal downlaoding will continue. As the vagueness of the Korean Government and Film Industry intentions and policies proceeds. let me leave you with this. Just Smoper it.

Korea, you glorious bastard.

P.S. I get I used these images and videos illegally. I get the irony.<----Am I using that word right?