25 July 2013

Tedious Teacher Tasks

Back to alliteration with vivacious vengeance!

This post shall be about tasks, activities, or responsibilities that I, as a teacher, must do/be in order to complete my duties. However, they were not really explained in the official "handbook." (Keep in mind that this handbook is neither written or spoken. It is simply inferred. I suppose that this handbook is supposed to be learned through osmosis. Simply being in the area of the school, you must breathe deep and meditate to find it.)
For the trolls: Yes, I am aware I teach EFL, not ESL.


1. Being a glorified babysitter
There are times when class just doesn't go how you'd like it to. The kids won't settle, they won't be quiet, they won't pay attention. That is when mean teacher comes out. Sometimes all I have to do is stand in the front of the room with a stern expression until they all start wondering why Teacha looks so mad, they decide as a group to be quiet and find out. Occasionally I will have to yell. I have heard of some teachers who completely lose control of their class and basically sit there while the kids go apeshit. Thankfully (knock on wood) I haven't had that experience. My students are still young enough to be frightened by a short, white lady yelling English at them.

2. Being a symbol of America
Kristen Teacha is America. 
Simple as that, I now represent America to everyone I run into. No matter if I'm having a bad day, am in a bad mood, and really don't want to deal with Korea, I am America. For most of my students, I will probably be one of the few, if not only, experience they have with an American. The same goes for most of the teachers at my school, and the parents in the surrounding neighborhood. I'll make a few examples:
Kristen is accidentally rude = Americans are rude
Kristen is impatient with something = Americans are impatient
Kristen thinks a food is too spicy = That food is too spicy for Americans
Kristen is late once = Americans are always late
And this can even go as far as including all foreigners, not just Americans. Sometimes you really have to watch what you do here, because someone always seems to be watching the foreigners. (Especially in shops, since we ALL know that foreigners steal)

3.  Teacher's meetings
Teacher's meetings are the bane of my existence in this school. They happen every couple of weeks, and they are the most horrible thing ever. I get called on by my co-teachers to go to the meeting because the Principal likes to see me there. Everyone notices when the white girl isn't there.
However, these meetings, as you would guess, are conducted in Korean. Do I know Korean? No. I'm working on that, but no, I have no idea what they are saying. So, I get to sit there for an hour and a half, sometimes two hours, and pretend to listen. I clap whenever everyone else does, but I will NEVER laugh when everyone else does, because I don't know if it's funny or not. I cherish my humor, and my judgement of all things funny. So far, Korean does not sound funny to me. When I learn Korean, that may be different.
Hopefully during the meeting I get a seat that faces the window, so at least I can keep my brain active by counting windows on the high-rise across the street, or the leaves on the tree outside, or try to read the truck that drives past. After each meeting, my co-teachers, without fail, ask me, "Kristen, it is boring, right?"
.....yes. Why do you insist on me being there?

4. Teacher's dinners
This one is two-sided, actually. I kind of like them. I kind of don't. 
Imagine being stuck in a hot room with a bunch of people whom you can't converse with. Imagine all of those people acting as if you don't exist because they can't converse with you. This is a teacher's dinner.
This is when all the teachers get together and go to a restaurant to treat ourselves for being so awesome. It's a time for all the teachers to get together, eat a bunch of food, talk loudly, and get very drunk. It's pretty fantastic. Now, being a foreigner at this party, I don't speak. I sit at a table mostly alone with only food as comfort. Fine with me. As I stuff my face, a microphone appears out of nowhere. I'm serious, it just appears somehow. The principal will come up and give some sort of motivational speech (I think) and then hands off the microphone to someone else who starts talking in rapid Korean. Then suddenly I'm being pushed to go up. Oh no, I think, not again. Oh yes, he hands the microphone to me. I must speak Korean until I can't anymore and everyone is in awe of my mad Korean skillz. Then I give a little bow and return to stuffing my face full of delicious food.
I don't like the microphone, but I love free food. Catch-22, isn't it?

5. Being a (not even glorified) babysitter during breaks
 I understand that education is really important to Korean culture. So important, in fact, that these kids never really stop studying. They don't have much time outside of studying, unless it's to study some activity like taekwondo, soccer, piano, etc. Other than that, my own students enjoy computer games, dancing, and running around like maniacs for no conceivable reason.
Summer break comes along, and it's not really anything like American summer break. The schools go year-round here, so there's a month break in July/August and a winter break in January/February. During those breaks, students are free to do whatever they please......or not. In America, you would see kids roaming the streets looking for a park to chill in, some new bug to poke with a stick, or nowadays lazing in front of a computer screen or television. In Korea, these kids are stuck in camps, hagwons, extra lessons, etc., to make sure their brains don't rot over the break.
I actually don't mind the camps that much, other than my "vacation" is really more work than a normal work-week.

I can't much complain, though. At the moment I have the office to myself, computer speakers commandeered to play music throughout the empty hall. I am sitting in air-conditioning, trying to muster up the motivation to actually do something productive, but instead I am writing blog posts. Ah, the pleasures of deskwarming*.

I also can't complain because I do love my job. Even with the annoying teachers' meetings, dinners, camps, rules, hierarchies, etc., I couldn't imagine myself back in a kitchen making food for ungrateful bastards for minimum wage. Or back in a call center.....ugh. Don't think about that one ever again.


*deskwarming: the period in which EFL teachers in Korea must be at their desks during school breaks. Whether working, sleeping, or browsing youtube, the native speaker must be at the desk for work hours.

10 July 2013

Dokdo? More like Dok-don't even go there, Japan!

I am a level 7 slacker.
I should be doing actual work right now, but I feel like blogging to the world about how my life is significant and special. Or something.

I should probably write a bit about Dokdo. For those of you who don't know, Dokdo is an island a ways off the east coast of South Korea.
It's sovereignty has been disputed since the beginning of time (or so it seems). Japan says it's Japanese, Korea says it's Korean, and they simply don't seem to want to come to a conclusion since no one wants to give it up. 

Anyway, being a foreigner in Korea sometimes has its perks, and one of those is being used in Korean propaganda! Since I am very awesome with my foreign-ness, I was chosen, along with 19 other foreigners, to become Honorary Ambassadors to Dokdo. We were taken on a three-day trip to Ulleungdo, then from Ulleungdo took a ferry to see the harbor of Dokdo for 20 minutes. They gave us Korean flags to take pictures with, and that we did.
See? I blend right in, I know.

Then after 20 minutes the police started herding us like sheep back onto the ferry for another two and a half hours back to Ulleungdo. It was an amazing trip. The islands were beautiful and the water was so blue and clear and the squid was (mostly) delicious. It really didn't hurt that I was surrounded by 19 awesome people as well. I made some good friends on that trip, and I'm really glad that I went.
As for the conflict?
To me, it doesn't really matter. I'm not Korean, will never be Korean, so it doesn't affect me. However, through the history and research I have read (even some information apart from the stuff they fed us throughout the trip) I would have to concede that Dokdo is Korean. It has been Korean, and probably should stay Korean. 
See? Logic.

What I'm most surprised by is the backlash against the foreigners who went on the trip. Biggest surprise about that is that the over-the-top judgment is coming from our own fellow foreigners. I get it, I really do. Foreigners shouldn't be used for propaganda, I have no idea what they're doing with my picture, they can attach my name to anything, and you generally hate everything about me doing this. 
Guess what? I don't care what you think about me or my reasons to do this, or the consequences afterwards.
The way I see it, I got a free trip to an island most KOREANS don't ever get to visit in their lifetimes, as well as four days away from teaching responsibilities (as much as I love the buggers, some time off is appreciated). I see no harm in Koreans putting my picture in a newspaper and attaching it to their own common knowledge. Sure, the Japanese don't use foreigners, but I'm sure they have their own ways of propaganda, seeing as they're not allowed on the island.

In closing, going to Dokdo was an honor and privilege. I volunteered to be a pawn of propaganda to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I hope to never forget the experience of going to Ulleungdo and Dokdo. It was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen, let alone gotten the opportunity to walk around. I made better friendships in four days than in the five months I've been in Korea. 
So...do I regret being a propaganda tool? 

Not at all. That's a stupid thing to be regretful of. What a stupid question.

With that, I leave you with pictures of Ulleungdo.
A view of Ulleungdo from a neighboring island(not Dokdo)




The water really was that blue. Seriously. This picture doesn't even do it justice. It was paradise.