Beware the Ddong Chim

Letters From Korea for Enter the Shell: Part II

Hello again, from...the future. My apologies for not having written sooner. After meeting real people and experiencing the culture a bit, I got in the habit of going out every night with my coworkers (which still happens). That and I got my computer to read my DVD's again, so I went on a bit of a 24 binge. I haven't quite recovered from Jack Bauer's awesomeness and still have season 7 to start and finish.

I'm sure you're all curious to know what the school system is like over here, so I'll give you a brief overview before I have to mosey on over to work. If there are any Korean readers out there, forgive me if I butcher the spelling of your language. Firstly, I teach at what is called a Hagwan. A Hagwan is a special private school, or an extended study school where parents force their tired children to learn outside of their everyday public forum. There are English, Math, Science, and various other Hagwans. Hell, there's probably one for hula hooping. By the time the students have reached me at 3:20pm, they've already been up since 6am. I teach several classes and the setting is that of a college where you're in class Monday, Wednesday, and Friday or Tuesday and Thursday, with the exception of two everyday classes. The last class of the day ends at 9:10pm. And yes, some of these kids are up from 6am to 9:10pm, if not later. You'll often see kids leaving other Hagwans at later times. If ever you've complained about your school workload back home in the States, consider yourself lucky.

With all that aside, teaching here is actually fairly easy. I teach four classes on Wednesdays and Fridays, I have five on Mondays and Tuesdays (Monday I have a special class at an earlier time where I teach kindergärtners art). Thursdays are by far my busiest days as I have a special class at 1:30, I've recently been recruited to teach debate right after that to another class, then have my regular five classes straight after. Seven classes from 1:30 to 8:10 with no breaks whatsoever. At least I'm earning that money, right?

In the classroom is where you as a teacher are tested. We're monitored by our bosses and sometimes parents constantly. Parents look for the most minute detail to complain about, but fortunately our bosses are non-confrontational, so I doubt I'll ever get canned (that's assuming I've done poorly as a teacher). My students are fairly smart. I've only a few that cause trouble. Class sizes are small. I have no more than nine students in any class. My smallest class is three students. Now, on to the shit-heads.

My everyday class is by far the worst of all. It's not that they're dumb. Only one of them is. No, the problem is they're unruly, rude, disrespectful, and their English still sounds like they're speaking Korean. It's a class of five students. Three girls and two boys. The girls are all pretty sharp, but because the boys are a bit slower, they tend to get restless and end up making me want to throw them out the fifth story window we're at. One of the girls, Nikki, seems to think she owns the damned place, while Edward, the shit-bag who wears his damned taekwondo skirt to class every day, just doesn't give a shit and ends up getting up and walking to the window, staring out at nothingness. Nikki is egged on by her friend, Mini, who sits right next to her. Together, they're a mess of frustration. Two weeks into teaching, on a Friday, I wondered to myself "my goodness, how long will it take before I make one of these kids burst in to tears?" Little did I know it would be only moments later.

This class, Taurus class, is my first of the day, save for Mondays and Thursdays due to aforementioned special classes (special here doesn't mean retarded). It being Friday, I knew they would be more squirrelly than usual. I came in and two students forgot their books, so I sent one of them to get my book photocopied for class. After several minutes of trying to settle everyone down and the students mocking my threats with fake tears I said quite audibly (my coworkers in the kitchen right next door heard the whole ordeal) "Oh, I'll give you something to cry about." The next kid who acted up was Nikki. The voice turned into a shout, the orders were for her to stand up. Her feeble attempts to scoot closer into her desk met with my pulling the desk away from her and demanding she stand. The look of sadness and fear in her eyes was apparent as she slowly got up. I commanded her to come with me to the teachers room. Still as a stone, she started crying and shook her head. After asking if she was going to silence herself and a confirmation of such, I said she could sit down, then continued to lecture the class on how disrespectful they were. I'm fairly certain it went over their heads, but at least they've managed to be a little more quiet since. Bitch deserved it.

The rest of my classes are all fairly well-behaved. I have a few jerks in some classes, but they're old enough to not make much of an audible fuss. Most students have no problems with me, and, in some cases, they actually like me as a teacher. The new school year starts in March, so I may not have the same kids in about a month, but at least some will remember as something more than a tyrant.

Life otherwise has been busy and relatively eventful. While I've seen many parts of the city of Cheonan, I mainly frequent the same bars. Kooma has been my local hangout (not Akuma, like the guy from Street Fighter) as the beer is cheap, the service is friendly and aside from the constant K-Pop, it's a relaxed atmosphere. While I'd like to delve into my world outside of work, I need other things to talk about.

Shit. I was writing this and put it on hold in order to go to the bar for my friend's birthday. At the bar, one of the bar maids, Ami (not Amy, pronounced "ah-me"), decided she didn't like a photo of herself and deleted all of my photos at once. Granted, her grasp on English is limited, and didn't understand what she was doing, but still, it was 925 photos all together. Granted, I'd uploaded all of them prior to my coming here, but it's 925 photos gone. Hopefully my friend's recovery software will work. Anyway, here are your lottery picks from...the future: Shanghai Chicken Sandwich.

Also, here's a little K-Pop for you. I figured I'd start you off with something easy on the eyes. Here's T-Ara with "Bo Peep":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8E8VVp1dRs

My First Piece for Enter the Shell's Blog

Andy’s Entries from South Korea, Vol. 1

by Andy on Jan.03, 2010, under Life

Greetings! from…the future. You know all the stories you’ve heard of Asian mysticism? Like the one where Kurt Russell saves Chinatown from the villains of Mortal Kombat? They’re all true. This is a story of magic, time travel and lots of bad television. Let’s start from the beginning.

I left the greatest land in the world about a week ago for the Iowa-sized country of Korea (South) in order to be a 12 foot tall English teacher who breathes fire and grammatically correct sentences. Two days after Christmas my parents, grandma and brother drove me to LAX. Two days after Christmas, shortly after an attempted bombing at Amsterdam airport, I’m waiting hours in line just to check in for my 15 hour flight to my new home in the city of Cheonan. Teary hugs and kisses goodbye and a long snaking line to the gates later, I’m waiting for flight 301 to Tokyo…which, really, wasn’t much of a wait.

On my flight to Tokyo I sat between an elderly Vietnamese gentleman (who seemed to like grabbing the items I had on my fold-out tray and observing them) and a middle-aged Korean man from the city of Busan (Korea’s beach city) with some sort of medical issue and limited English, taken from his original seat, away from his medication, and forced next to some 22 year-old in fancy hat. If I haven’t mentioned this before, I sleep during turbulence, which allowed for a good nap during take-off and a little more during the flight. I bet you’re wondering when that Asian mysticism is coming in.

The first meal of the flight (first of three) was some sort of meat by-product. After a quick consumption of said meat, you could easily see the discomfort in my face. And hear it in my stomach. And probably smell it in the seats. After a few grumbles, my Korean neighbor saw the consternation in my eyes and got to chopping. Without any forewarning, my back and arms were subsequently hacked at or pinched by this gentleman next to me. I don’t know if it was simply the surprise of a stranger grabbing me, or if it was some sort of mystic healing, but as soon as the first flattened palm hit my back, I stopped feeling sick to my stomach. I’m vouching for the latter.

I wish I could say that the rest of my flight was as eventful, but I’d be lying if I did. I had a two hour lay-over in Tokyo until my flight to Incheon International Airport in Korea. When I did finally arrive in Korea, I thought the driver hired to take me to my apartment had bailed on me (or I’d been screwed over by this agency and they’d stolen my identity). After about 30 frantic minutes trying to use my cell in a foreign land, then their pay phones with their funny characters written all over the place, my driver, Mr. Chang, managed to track me down.

The drive over consisted of Mr. Chang and I exchanging translations on various subjects. I was thoroughly pleased when Mr. Chang kept referring to the things of Korea as “very powerful, number one!” Read that in your stereotypical Asian voice for a good laugh. I learned some basic phrases (I’d say “hello” [Annyang] was one of them, but Arrested Development beat Mr. Chang to it), such as “Kam sa hamida” (thank you) “Chooseyo” (please) and “Makuli” (Rice wine).

I arrived at my new apartment at around midnight and was greeted by my new boss, Frank Lee (yes, Frankly). Settling in, I found that the English TV stations here are 75% Fox. America’s Funniest Home Videos seems to be on at all hours of the day. The same programs get repeated and there never seems to be anything good on. I haven’t yet gotten up the nerve to try the Korean programs. School doesn’t start until Monday, so I’m unfamiliar with my colleagues, save for my boss. Until I’ve gotten to know them and get the opportunity to see the sights with some modicum of comfort, I won’t have anything to report on the culture, though I will say that all of the people I’ve met so far have been friendly, helpful, and polite. I spent New Years alone and fell asleep a couple hours before midnight as I’m not yet accustomed to the time change. I suppose it doesn’t matter since Lunar New Year (or Chinese New Year as we call it in America) is the bigger celebration here. I’ve got about a month to get ready for that one.

I don’t have video for you all as I’m finding difficulty getting my camera to agree with my computer, but as soon as I get it up and running (or I buy a new laptop), I’ll simply have to irritate you all with my writing. Until next time, here are your lottery picks from…the future: 12, 37, 24, 18, and Schnauzer.