Aaaaand we start over again...

Just when I thought that I knew how to teach in Gurye, I got a new group of kids who reminded me otherwise. The first week of classes left me with a dumbfounded look of confusion. "But..but... that lesson worked so well with them last year..." It turns out that the only people more shy than Korean students are new Korean students. Once again, I find myself rethinking the semester strategy.

So far, games are a foreign teacher's best friends. That kids learn better when they feel comfortable is just common sense; yet, it is difficult to remember that sometimes when you are actually in the classroom. Because of my new understanding of familiarity with Korean students, I have come to accept a few things (such as hitting teacher) as long as they are within reason. We'll see if that gets out of hand in the coming months.

Recently, I got to take part in Korean tradition. People, especially in rural areas, like to drink something called "Goroesoe." It is tree sap that people drink pure, rather than turn it into syrup. It kind of tastes like creamy water and is pretty good. However, the point is to drink as much as humanly possible, which did not sit too well with me. We sat in a big circle, feasted on dried squid (to make us thirsty) and drank gallons upon gallons of Goroesoe. A pattern developed. Someone filled my cup, I drank it, I ate squid, I drank more, then I go to the bathroom, repeat. I must have drank twice my weight. Apparently, this is done for our health, although I might have some disagreement about drinking to the point of explosion. But, you can't argue with tradition.

Back to the grind

So, I decided to take an extended break from this blog. My vacation lasted from December 24 to March 2. As much as we all like vacations, that was a bit too long. A significant amount of time was spent trying (in vain) to learn enough Korean to communicate with my students for the next semester. Maybe it was a little more difficult than I had anticipated.

I ended up going to Seoul quite often, well enough to know the metro system fairly well at this point. One will notice, especially if you are a Korean looking person with no Korean speaking ability, that sometimes it's just plain easier to speak English with a Korean accent. Ironically, I sounded like a bad impersonation of the Asian stereotype. If you randomly splice vowel sounds between all consonants, then surprisingly people in bigger cities tend to sort of understand you.

I've also reflected on the successes and failures of the last semesters and have come to the conclusion that teaching is hard. Ultimately, no matter what I do, it's all about convincing students that it is actually in their best interest to stay awake in class. However, the more I learn about Korean student's daily lives, I can't help but sympathize with their circumstances. I spent over two months on vacation whereas they spent that whole time taking "optional" classes. What can I say, Korea is a country with a mission. I did learn that "how was your vacation" is not a good question to ask a Korean high school student.

Our school had a significant change this year as 11 teachers were transfered to new schools. I lost my co-teacher Lee Nani to greener pastures (her commute was about three hours per day). Apparently, no teacher will ever stay in the same school for more than four years at a time. This allows everyone to have the occasional good placement. Whether you love or hate your school, you likely have four years of it. Judging by the unmitigated joy in the faces of the 11 teachers, and the seething jealousy of everyone else, I get the feeling that Gurye wasn't exactly the first choice for a lot of the teachers. Most of the teachers live in bigger cities, which does mean a long commute to and from work. Anyway, I will miss Mrs. Lee and wish her the very best in her new school.

This should be an interesting semester. Our new group of kids should be fun to have and I hope they like learning English for its own sake, because I simply can't afford that much candy again.