End on a High Note

There are lots of teachers in my school. Other than my coteacher, there are three that can hold a solid English conversation with me. We can talk about anything in the world: Korean food, Korean music, Korean culture, Korean politics, Korean international relations, Korean education, you name it. The rest of the teachers, however, can not do this. They want to, they have proven that, but they can't. These conversations start off nicely just like they would in the States. Playful bantering about the weather and whatnot. They do, unfortunately, unintentionally turn sour after fifteen seconds. I offer you some examples from the past (the first a low blow from today).

"Greg are you sad because Netherlands lost?"
"Yeah, tough loss."
"Spain had more points so Netherlands lost."

"Greg are you tired today?"
"A bit, yes."
"I say that because you do not look handsome today."

"Greg is that a new shirt?"
"Yeah, I bought it at E-Mart."
"It is more nice than other shirt you wear. Sometimes you have ugly shirt."

"Greg it is raining."
"Yes I know. I was just outside."
"You are very wet. It is raining outside."

"Greg you like rice."
"I do."
"I say that because there is heaping mound of rice on your tray."

"Greg do you hate school?"
"Of course not."
"You leave more early than us. We think you hate us."

Granted, I am the only core-subject teacher that gets to leave at 4:30, it's simply in my contract. No self-respecting American with a heart full of underachievement would teach until 9pm, and the Korean government knows it.

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As of next week, summer camps begin. I get the pleasure of attending one of said camps at a middle school that is in Odessa, Ukraine. I say that because it might as well be that far away. In actuality, it's nestled comfortably between the mountains on the southern-most tip of the city limits. The subway is 20 minutes, the bus is an hour, the wakeup call will probably be 5am in order to arrive by a time that will guarantee my employment there. I'm thinking of buddying up with the school's night watchman. Slumber party!



RIP Bob Sheppard.