The Five Worst Habits I Have Encountered in Korea

I have lived in Korea for the better part of a decade and there are many great things about it. If I didn't like it here, I would have left a long time ago. However, you cannot live in a place without picking up some personal issues, some pet peeves about a place. Ask any group of foreigners to talk about living in Korea and at some point they will have a bitch and moan about the place. Don't worry Koreans. We bitch and moan about our home countries as well.

               The Japanese will not shut up about this guy. We get it. He's annoying.

The five Issues I have chosen are annoyances. They are not major societal issues, such as rampant alcoholism, overt sexism, wife beatings, casual racism or even wilful ignorance of the police to deal with crime. Those would be massive problems. I'm sure glad we don't have to deal with any of THAT.

No, these issues are things that are part of the daily grind, things that really should not cause a facial tic or images of rendering individuals limb from limb dance in front of our eyes. But they do. for example....

Gum Smacking

                                                          Ugh, you are the worst. 

When did this even become a thing? Gum chewers always knew their place in society. Better to be seen and not heard, they were what smokers became to try and better themselves. Instead they learned chewing gum can be a status. A status that can be declared in horrible clarity. Popping gum is the sort of thing that belongs in the fifties, along with segregation and uncomfortable bras.  Even then, it belonged to those girls that wanted to be sexy but we're only ever going to be fourteen when you were eighteen. Why am I seeing , and more importantly, hearing fifty year old women chewing gum? 

The Solution The people who chew gum on the bus seat next to you, mindlessly making that gum snapping sound again and again? They deserve to be reminded how annoying it is. So face them and click your tongue. Click it in time to them chewing their gum. When they stop and stare at you, keep clicking your tongue right at them. Tilt your head and stick it out a little. Click your tongue. Become the stuff of their nightmares. 

Eye Avoidance

If I am taking to you, please be invested in the conversation as much as I am. Don't look at your phone and don't point at something in the sky, then when I look where you're pointing, run away. But most of all, don't look away from me. Korean custom has a person looking away, averting their eyes . Cool. Here's the thing. I would like you to adapt to the situation. I am clearly trying to get eye contact with you. It is clearly important to me. So when you go out of your way to continue ocular avoidance to be respectful, you're actually being disrespectful. Also, let's be honest, this eye avoidance is a crutch to bad behaviour. When a kid acts up in class, then looks away, when an ajosshi overcharges and looks away, when an ajumma runs for a seat, barges you out of the way and looks away, that is not out of respect. That is out of shame. And shame does not cut it for me. I want respect. I. Want. Respect.

The Solution shaving mirrors. One in each hand. Wave them in their eyeline forcing them to look at you. But, take advantage of the sitch. When they look away, Dr on your face. Red lipstick, black kohl, just mess your head up. When they stare into the mirror, they'll see a rainbow night daemon. They'll scream and, hopefully, do something go amusing. Like jump out of the bus window. Bring makeup remover and clean up daintily, staring at the rest of the bus passengers, smiling. Maintain eye contact. 

Littering

        

                                 The man is a super hero and he's struggling. Think of the fish!

I have a friend who is Texan and a liberal. The genetic coding of a man who loves big sky, has weapons knowledge and hates anti environmentalist litterers is a sight to behold in Daegu. He has followed kids who dropped cans and candy wrappers down a street and gave it back to them. It's beautiful, man. Littering is unforgivable, even with the proviso there are no dustbins trash cans anywhere. For a society that realises it has almost no natural resources, it is criminal to take your land and cover it in non-biodegradeable seagull chokers. When I see kids dropping all the wrapping off a triangle gimbal, I want to pick the kid up and throw them into oncoming traffic. That's wrong, of course. Probably. 

The Solution wear an official long outfit, complete with hat and badge. Follow litterers and demand on the spot fines of 20,000 won. When they can't pay ( I'm thinking children here) give them a ticket saying they must attend a court in the next 90 days to explain exactly why they were right to litter. Make sure the ticket has wet ink, so that when they touch it, it gets on their hands and cannot be washed off. Stand there as they realise the situation, then give them a long, slow, thoughtful nod. They'll get it. 

Arm Crossing 

                         

                              Literally the only time I'm happy to see this happen.

To be clear, but this is not folding the arms. This is making an 'X' with your arms as a silent , final way of saying 'No'. You lazy bastards. You can say No. You can be nice about it. I'm not a bloody vampire. I'm a human being. I have demonstrated I speak at least a modicum of Korean. We can have discourse of a sort. You just immediately saying No to a situation, before it has even played out for a second? That's rude, rude in a way that makes French people tap their Gauloises into an ashtray in a thoughtful manner.

The Solution Grab those hands and spin the offending person around, thus forming the first step to a sexy bachata. Break down their lack of communication through the medium of dance. Hold them close, look over your shoulder provocatively, let them know you want them to reconsider selling you that vintage shirt, even though it is clearly too small for your ludicrously portly frame. Spin them with the fiery passion of a person who understands it is a family restaurant but you just want to eat some samgyetang by yourself. 

Infantile Nationalism

    

                                                       Yes, I do. Do you like potatoes?

When I tell my students they can ask me any question, they go for the same things. What is your favourite colour? What is your favourite food? Where do you come from? That's correct, I'm happy with that. My kids have basic vocabularies and are only a few moments removed from mewling shit factories that never sleep. However, adults need to grow their question base. They ask questions like, Do you like Korean food? Do you like Kimchi? Isn't it super hot? The answers to these questions are yes, sometimes, and no. When these questions still come up, I start to feel like there is a Census is going around. Every Korean stranger I have spoken to, the first three things they REALLY want to know are these things. Sure, they'll ask about your age and nationality but they really want to make sure you dig their food. They want you to love it. They want you to be blown away by how awesome Korea is , and their food is the easiest manifestation of that national id. I'm trying to think of one Israeli, one American, one Frenchman, one German, one Englishman, who has been so concerned a stranger to their shores enjoyed their stay.  Koreans are as arrogant as other nationalities; I just feel other nations are more laissez afire with their nationalism. Americans will scream Murrica! At the drop of a hat, but that is mostly tongue in cheek. Americans know their nationalism is silly and infantile , and that knowledge gives them perspective. Can you imagine a Texan asking an Englishman if he likes hamburgers? No, because the Texan would not give a fuck. 

The Solution when asked these questions, cross your arms, look away, chew some gum, and throw the wrapper in the floor. They'll soon get the message and leave you alone.

I Have Enough Friends

I just sat down to eat at Burnham's Burgers for my lunch today.  I was alone but quite happy to watch YouTube as I ate my egg mushroom burger.  As I am munching on my food,  I see someone I know who is alone as well.  We have known each other a long time.  We exchanged pleasantries and he sat down away from me with his back turned.  When I finished I said goodbye and he said goodbye and that was  it.
I reflected as I walked away,  shuffling with fake confidence on my still improving right knee.  What was I to that person? What was that person to myself?  Friends? Friends would sit down and eat together. We would enquire into each other's lives.  We would talk about minutiae, or deep thoughts. I felt no such compulsion to be at the same table in the same way he felt no desire to share with me his innermost secrets.

But we are not enemies.  At least,  I don't think we are.  I know he is part of a group of people who regard me with emotions ranging from disdain to indifference.  Bit he has always been cordial and polite.  I have never heard of him saying a bad word to anyone,  much less about me.  He doesn't roll like that.

So what exactly are we to each  other?  Colleagues?  The TESOL Community is now far too large to be friends just because you're both foreigners in a strange land trying to do an unappreciated job. Acquaintances? We have both been part of sports leagues and dramatic events.  And yet, we never hung out.

We are Facebook friends,  that number you can either  choose to let define you or not.  People you have known your whole life,  or people you met at a bar last night are giving the same station.  Yes,  you can partition your friend groups in Facebook.  No,  I don't do that.  Who has the time and the inclination to breakdown their association?

And yet.  What am I to that guy? Probably nothing important. If I was,  I reason,  he would try to get to know me better.  The fact he hasn't tells me he has no pressing desire or need.  He has enough friends.  Good for him.

If you asked a younger version if me if you could have a finite number of friends,  he would have scrunched up his face and snuffed the suddenly confusing air. Too many friends,  are you kidding me? Nowadays,  I can say I have enough friends.

I am confident with my picks.  I have multiple circles that are interwoven and autonomous.  I have different interests represented.  I have respect and love and joy and connection.  I can lose touch without fear of losing friendship.  I have colleagyes and Acquaintances as well.  But really,  I don't worry about being just another Facebook friend in the crowd.

I have enough friends.

The ELT's Guide to The Godfather.

If I have learned one thing in my time in Korea, when Anne wants something it is usually a good idea to do it. I am joking. But not really. She has been my mentor since I was a week old TEFL n00b and I am lucky enough to consider her to be my best friend. SO, if she wants The Godfather's guide to ELT, you had better believe that is happening.


Cue the violins, and Puzo fonting....

Michael Corleone: Fredo, you're my older brother, and I love you. But don't ever take sides with anyone against the Family again. Ever.

My classroom is my home and my students are my family. Rule two in my classroom is no fighting. If they hit each other, or call each other names or act in a way that I find akin to bullying, I stop them and explain that we are a team. We live or die as a team. Seriously, like Ben Stiller says, There is no time for no Lauryn Hills.

If your student are your family, don't kiss them.

Peter Clemenza: Leave the gun. Take the cannoli. 

This adlibbed, off the cuff remark occurs after Clemenza's man has killed someone. The gun is no longer needed. The food is still a necessary part of Clemenza's day. Pick and choose your ELT weapons in a similar fashion. Do not get tied to one set of lesson plans. It gets boring for both you and your students. By choosing only the correct ELT tools for each individual lesson, with its individual issues, you can make the individuals learning perform better.

Don't shoot kids. THAT should be on EPIK orientation.

Michael Corleone: [to Sonny] It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business. 
Some kids are little shits and that is just how they do. It's not about you and it's not about your lesson. They act that way to everyone they meet. Some kids are dumb. It's not about you or your lessons. Let's be clear, you should ABSOLUTELY do everything in your power to make these kids perform better. However, when that bell rings, you have to remove them from your mind. They removed you from their life equation;you have to do the same.

"Ohhhhh, I had a rough kickin it in class, kids out here are kicking my ass, But I clear my head when I'm playing banjo, yes my name is Marlon Brando-oh."

Sonny: We don't discuss business at the table. 
There is a time and a place for everything.Planning a lesson when you are in the classroom with your kids and during the time you should be teaching is disrespectful. It is disrespectful tot the kids who are there to learn, to the person paying your wages, to the ELT community who are only ever associated with the lowest common denominator of teacher. It is also disrespectful to yourself. Take the time to plan properly and do it at an appropriate time and place.

For example, this is the wrong time and place to start the screenplay for The Godfather.

Tessio: Can you get me off the hook, Tom? For old times' sake?
Tom Hagen: [shakes his head] Can't do it, Sally. 

If you have rules in your classroom, enforce them. If your favourite kid breaks those rules, enforce your rules. No one gets a bye. I don't care if a retest has them  start to cry. I mean, I care, I'm not a monster. However, I care more about the justice that is perceived by everyone else in the classroom. You slack off on how you enforce rules, pretty soon the whole classroom will feel justified (correctly) to slack off as well.

Though you should make sure your rule enforcement tactics are age appropriate. This is good for Middle schoolers, maybe?

Emilio Barzini: [during a meeting with the Five Families] Times have changed. It's not like the Old Days, when we can do anything we want.  

The Old Days. Long Time Ex Pats gathered around a bar table will reminisce about how great the Old Days were. Don't blame us, we're old with bad back and creaky knees. Time was, being an ELT teacher was rare. Being a foreigner in a Korean city was rare. Job retention was high and job security was good. Everyone loved a hagwan teacher. Now, academies close all the time, the job market is shrinking even as the teacher influx has swelled. You are no longer a hot commodity. Owners and managers look at your work ethic, your work output and your skill set and compare it to literally thousands of others.

"Even you, Al Pacino can be replaced," lied De Palma as Brando wondered where he left his keys.

Michael: My father is no different than any powerful man, any man with power, like a president or senator.
Kay Adams: Do you know how naive you sound, Michael? Presidents and senators don't have men killed.
Michael: Oh. Who's being naive, Kay?

There is a high likelihood your boss is an arsehole. He does not care about your well being, whether it is making you work if you have a sore throat and runny nose, or if it a refusal to turn on the air con despite your sweat is clearly making a mini ocean around your desk. Suck it up. If you are doing this job in this country, chances are no matter where you go, you will have the same trials and tribulations. This comes with a warning. Some managers are not arseholes. They are nefarious criminals who should be challenged in a court of law. Know your rights and compare with other teachers, both in your hagwan and in your community.  Most criminal bosses work on the fact you don't know any better and the fear of isolation in a foreign country. Stand up to them. It is not as if they are the mafia.

Kiss my ring, you son of a bitch.

A Very Public Apology For being Myself

So, look, here's the thing. You know me. You know a version of me. Everyone has a version of me in their group of social interaction, be it in  the workplace or in the classroom or in your actual free time. I am that guy people say is the 'the life of the party' while raising their eyebrows. Possibly in a manner suggesting said title is really the whole joke.

I never thought it was a joke, being a popular , enjoyed person. I took it in a deadly serious manner. I hate anyone not liking me. For mem that is a throwback to preteen and teen me, a shy, uncomfortable character that slunk in the shadows. I would throttle that version of me if I could, stomp on his head until I heard his teeth chip and break. I would set him on fire. I push myself on so many ocassions to talk to strangers, to listen to others talk about things that are not interesting or listen to genuinely unpleasant or worse, boring people. I needed their approval so much I gave mine up completely. Love me, my persona screams, if only because of how good a job I am presenting of loving you.

And that situation developed. People threw out terms like 'King' or Mayor' of Daegu. Honorifics which are truly horrific. And I lapped it up. I pretended to not notice the half smirks guileful people would throw at each other. I valued the love too much. I would wave a strangers when they waved at me, forgetting that we had already met previously and in their minds at least, I was  an acquaintance, a friend. I played a  part to perfection.

So now I find myself seeing my actions. And I loathe myself. I am stuck with empty vessels as acquaintance, unable to distinguish the people who are truly my friends and who is just playing along wiht the game started in my head and now played by everyone so much better. My confidence is paper thin, my skin less so. My ego is stretched wide like a balloon and needs only one acute observation to pop me into nothing. My every action is now scrutinised by my id , my super ego, my fake ego and by a committee of sub egos who all have a turn clamouring for attention.

And now I have so many ways t express myself to my new found lifelong friends. Hello, Facebook. Hello, Blogger. Sometimes they say hello back. I now have spent so much time on my friends. I have invested in them.; Surely it is time for them to invest in me. Surely they will all want to know about my day. Careful though, I better make it funny. People like my posts. I cream myself at the pleasure of seeing likes on a post increase over time. Of being witty and it being recognised. Not for the elctronic media the world of half smirks and rolling eyes. Here, it can be taken anyway I desire. Here, I am an urbane G-d.

And then I hurt myself. And it was a while ago. And I am down about it. I don't really feel like making a joke anymore. I feel lke being honest about my feelings. I feel like saying I feel awful, that my knee is punding acid into my foot. That I cannot stand up and i am afraid I will never do it properly again. That I may not run or jump or climb a tree again. These fears cloud my mind and blur my vision with tears of irreparable damage in potentia.

And I write these things not because I want the likes anymore but because I want to be heard. Because I want to be respected. because I want to be liked. Suddenly it is not the substance of the matetr but the matter which created the substance that needs appreciation. Because honestly right now, I feel no appreciation.

And no one cares. Not really. Not in the all consuming way I want them to care. Becasue that's insane. No one can care for you like a lovesick perfectly obedient, individual, clever, carefree, wise, sagacious, witty, fun way golem. They can send you commiserations but they re long distanced, weak by the time of arrival at your soul. They can visit you but you know they will go away again. You know it and they know it. It is part of the tacit arrangement.

All my friends have failed my ideal. And that is because my ideal is fractured, through decades of feverish study as to what is necessary to be popular, to being wanted. To having that transform into a ghoulish need to impress but never realizing the other half of the equation. To be impressive. And so, the reality comes to pass that I reach out to my friends in a way they find cloying, irritating, or worse, boring.

My apology is this. I am sorry for failing my friends in the hour of my greatest need. I shall, from here on in, not tell you a single thing about my day being terrible until it is something you ask for. I will not talk about things that upset me in my life. I shall not venture opinion on source material until it is asked for. I shall not ask for help in any way physical, mental, spiritual or emotional because it is clear you would not ask the same of me, even though I would have given it gladly. By repressing myself, maybe I can stop the microIDs, control my personality and make it a human being once more. Maybe I can find out what I want to listen to, to care about, to appreciated. And then I can gain the respect I deserve.



See, old me would have thrown a question at the end right here saying something like, Does any of this make any sense? I think new me would ask the same question.



Does any of this make sense?

Pacific Rim's Guide To ELT

Continuing the theme of using movies to help improve English Language, I give you ...Pacific Rim.

Asia is the place for ridiculously big monsters and giant robots. FACT. That a movie about such things could lend itself to English learning is of course, utterly sensible. The Kaiju/Jaeger dynamic is is almost identical to the student/teacher dynamic. Confrontation of ever learning, ever growing alien beings, who never stop coming at you? I call that Kindergarten.  Use of Plasma cannons and Giant swords? Teaching tols if ever I heard of them? Grabbing a battleship and using it as an impromptu baseball bat? Flexible use of the teaching environment.

Read on and learn why your teaching will cancel the apocalypse....

Raleigh Becket: Wait. I think this guy's dead. But let's check for a pulse.
Mako Mori: Okay.
[They turn the Jaeger around and fire the Jaeger's plasma cannon into the kaiju four more times,exploding its chest]
Raleigh Becket: No pulse. 

Sometimes, in a lesson, we are in a rush and just push on with the lesson plan. Let's always remember to make sure there is comprehension. Do the kids understand the principles you just explained? Do they actually get the new vocabulary? Don't just ask, "Do you understand?" Elicit responses that show they know how to use the new information. Otherwise, you're not teaching them, you're shooting them with a plasma cannon. Don't do that!

This is a Bad Teacher moment. a Bad Ass Teacher moment, amirite? Seriously, don't hit kids.

Raleigh Becket:  To fight monsters, we created monsters of our own.

Some kids are nasty animals who need to be put down, garrotted and strung  up as a warning to others. Nope, that was a trick I pulled on you just then!Don't feel sheepish, I'm sneaky like that. But, in a classroom, sometimes a persona develops as the teacher tries to instil a level of management. This character can sometimes not be so pleasant. Remember, any character can change from bad to good and vice versa. If you don't like the monster you created for yourself, let it go and start afresh. You may be surprised at how the students respond and soon there may be no monsters at all.

"So, uh, no monsters, eh? Fancy a coffee?"
"...."

Stacker Pentecost: One: don't you ever touch me again. Two: don't you ever touch me again. 

We come from a society where students touching and teacher touching is taboo. In Korea, kids will want to touch you, especially if you have awesome facial hair. Before you flare up at your kids about the no go zone, here's a little note from my youth worker days. Are you yelling at your kids because they are doing something bad, or because they are doing something annoying? Kid want to touch beards. Let it happen, don't let it happen, but don't make your kids feel bad for being curious for once in their life.

Is it wrong I want them both to have the same beard?

Stacker Pentecost: I do not need your sympathy or your admiration. All I need is your compliance and your fighting skills. And if I can't get that, then you can go back to the wall that I found you crawling on. Do I make myself clear? 

You're a teacher. So, do your job. Your job is flexible, far more than anything else you have probably done.  It's something that teachers often try to translate to their students. If I am teaching, then you better study. I don't want any of your crap.The only problem with hthis is, their crap is part of your responsibility. Wnting to put slow learning children down a level is all wel and good, but until that moment, you probably should take the time to try and teach them something. Some kids don't need to go back to their crawling wall.

Populated Exclusively by Kids who don't put their hands up.

Hannibal Chau: Are you funnin' me, son? 

Yes, yes I am. Pacific Rim is a movie about a war to survive. There is absolutely no parallel between that situation and the classroom. If you think something is a battle zone, you bend your body and soul into it and grit your teeth. If you act like you're in a war, soon the kids will as well. Shift your perspective. Adjust your expectation level. Think of other teaching styles which may be more positive and may lead to a more positive result.

They may even take you out of this world. Where you can then slice it with a sword that up until that point you had not used at all. Even though it could have saved your brother and countless other people. But no, you're right, using it now when you are a gazillion miles from the ground, that's the move. 

 

 

Seriously. This movie is Awesome Sauce Stupid.

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.

No Light At The End Of This Tunnel

So it has been a pretty tough month. Literally almost every aspect of my life has taken a hit. Financially, emotionally, physically, socially. I feel stretched thin and I can hear the tearing inside. And the worst thing is, knowing it is not going to be recovered any time soon.

My ACL is torn. I have been dreading getting surgery and when I saw the doctor he said I might be able to avoid it. Now I am moving about with a might impressive brace. Yes, I get a seat on all the subways and buses. It really does not make up for moving everywhere slowly, off balance and in pain. A constant, dull, pain. It impacts everything else I do, from waking up in the morning for a piss, to deciding to cook some food.

Speaking of cooking, I provide a delivery service for other teachers in the area. Walking around with an ajumma cart full of food in one hand and a walking stick in the other., I feel the deliveries are definitely negatively impacting my knee injury. However, I need some form of relaxation. Making food, even chopping onions is so much fun. But having to stand up with a busted knee, move around even in a cramped Korean kitchen, is not pleasurable.

So I don't deliver right now. This means I lose a massive amount of my customer base. I am reduced to going to places where I know people will be in large groups. That's okay, since it fits my business model of avoiding transport costs. However, now I am carrying around more food,which of course is no good for my frickin knee. Having so much less money of course adds to my money worries. I worked out that if I have the surgery I will be paying back over 5 Million won whilst paying rent and utilities. That's such a huge number I almost want to vomit.

Really the worst part of this is how everyone reacts to the situation. I don't want pity. I want respect. I am currently with someone who loves me. My friends like me. I just don't feel respected. A good friend made the joke of me being a 'lovable fuck up' and it really hurt. I guess I am overly sensitive right now. Usually I have a thick skin. I can laugh and joke with the best of them. Right now with everything else happeninmg, I think would rather get run over by a bus and go into a six month coma.

Okay. Time for some positive reinforcement.

I got a job. I got a boss who is good to me. I got great kids in my classroom and a superb TA. I have running water and a warm house. I have clean clothes and a wide selection of cooking books. I have good friends. They want only good things for me. Those that do not respect me...well, fuck. I don't need everyone's respect. I have a woman who considers me her rock and I feel the same for her. We grouse and grumble but we get over it.

I will get over this. This is just transient.<----is that right? It's temporary.

No light at the end of the tunnel. However, I have the knowledge I am in the tunnel and that there will be light at some point. Push, push push.

Thoughts?