Make it work

Sometimes living in Korea means abandoning your pre-conceived notions of logic and common sense. In fact, you should probably forget the concepts of logic and common sense all together. Working here highlights this fact even more. If I had a nickel for everytime I've been told not to challenge the students because then they won't learn anything, I'd have enough money to go somewhere more sane, like Disneyworld or Bellevue. If I actually tried to understand why I needed another criminal record check from Canada even though I haven't left Korea since my last one I'd probably go blind. This is why they have 1,000won bottles of soju here. So you don't have to think. I mean, I'm using a Korean keyboard right now that switches to Hanguel every three strokes for no reason, yet it wouldn't let me use the 'won' button in that last sentence. But I'm ok with all of this. Well, really I'm not. But I have a fridge full of soju and a wallet full of chun'uns so I'll just move on.

The evilness of my principal is well documented, but I feel like her insanity has been kept quiet until now. Back in early December while she was denying my request to visit my new born niece and sick father over Christmas, this black hearted creature decided that me teaching English camp in the morning simply wasn't enough. No, I would have to hold 2 hour long classes with various teachers from my school in the afternoon. After expressing some concern about OT payment and referring to my contracted 22 hours per week (principal quote: "Yes, those are HOURS, not classes! So, really, you've been working less than you're supposed to") and calling several higher ups, I finally wittled it down to 2 hours 3 times a week. But I should realize how lucky I am and how kind the principal is, apparently.

I'd also like to point out that I do regular teacher classes at my school which none of these teachers attend. My co-teacher even went to each of them individually and told them it creates a whole lot of unnecessary work for me. They were unfazed. Lovely people, my co-workers. Avert their eyes when I pass them in the hall like I'm a leper gypsie, but just so eager to meet with me thrice a week during break after I'm exhausted from teaching 1st graders all morning.

Yesterday was our first meeting. Originally it was supposed to start at 1pm, which worked better for me but apparently interfered with their lunch schedules. Seeing as they're coming from home with no other commitments, I can only guess that "Screaming Korean Seizure Variety Show #409876" doesn't end till 1 o'clock, hence the conflict.

Over the last 2 weeks I've had nothing to do but lesson plan. Well, that and contemplate arson. In addition to the several test fires I set, I also planned out almost all these teacher classes which was difficult to do seeing as in true Korean fashion the attendance roster was kept more secret than Israel's nuclear capabilities. Hey, I'm just teaching the class. Why would I need to know numbers, levels and expectations? Having taught my district's teachers class previously, I have ample materials for all levels and learning strategies, as well as class sizes. I use a myriad of mediums including hand-outs, group work, ppts, and of course the white board to illustrate grammar facts and student questions. You know, like I was teaching or something.

So there I was sitting in the English room at 1:25 waiting for the mysterious students to show up when in comes one of the secretaries. Though she doesn't speak a word of English I understand enough to follow her downstairs to a room off the main office. "Englishee" (points to room). Outside the room stand 3 teachers who abruptly shout, "Where you?!! Englishee class now!" Well, see, I know not telling me the majority of things is par for Korea, but the the location of the class is probably essential information for the class to actually take place. But nevermind, I run back up to my room and grab my stuff only to return to an empty room. Seems as though every has disappeared. After a quick search, I find them all by the coffee machine. I say I'm ready when they are, am thoroughly ignored and go back to set up for the class. In this new room there is no computer nor is there a white board. Awesome, there goes half my lesson. It's ok, I've dealt with worse. I mean, who in Korea hasn't been asked to lead 5 year olds to fluency in a closet with no heat/AC or electricity for that matter?

Finally the 'students' arrive predictably 10 minutes late. If I've learned anything from teaching adults here is that they will swagger in whenever the hell they feel like it and still expect you to stay with them the whole 2 hours. So, once you get through the speeches and dick measuring of how 'busy' they are, you're about 20 minutes behind. Yes, you're so busy. That coffee machine wasn't going to press the buttons itself! You work so hard, if only you could have a vacation like the one you're enjoying now while I'm at work preparing the lesson you don't care about and will criticize without understanding it.

But I digress.

Whaddaya know, one of the students crawling in is my lovely principal! After regaling me with a non-sequitur story about how she brought ramyeon to the US and all the Americans within sniffing distance begged her to share because American food is awful, Korea #1, and so on, we start the lesson. I remind you, I have absolutely no materials available to me so when a student asks for the spelling of an 11 letter word I have no choice but to repeat the spelling 6 times until she can write it all down. And then 4 more times for the other student who was on their cell. Then 2 more times because, whoops, student #3 got mixed up with the 'b' and 'd'.

In total, 5 students showed up yesterday ranging in English ability from absolute beginner to 'thinks he's more fluent than he really is'. Every single student in the class would be in a different level if I lived in a rational country and there was actual screening. I simply don't know how to teach a class that has one person who looked at me confused when I said, "Hello", and another who asks me about the suitability of ending casual sentences with a preposition. Along with everyone in between. No one would talk, of course, so I had to resort to reading an article and asking questions from it to a series of blank and/or frightened stares. Finally, after carrying most of the conversation for an hour I suggested a break. Honest to god, they all just non-chalantly shook their heads and said, "No, we don't need a break." This after each of them visited the bathroom, refilled their coffees and talked on their phones for hlaf the time. Sorry, folks, I know it goes against what you learned in school but us foreign devils also need to replenish and waste.

After the grueling, terrible, wanted to 'accidentally' stab my throat with my pen so I could get out of there, two hours it was finally over. As I got up to leave my principal, the one with the black heart, stopped me. She was pretty disappointed with the class. There wasn't enough free talking. I said I tried to encourage talking, but no one would bite, including her. Well, that's my fault too. The subject matter was too hard! What were these post-grad Einsteinian subjects we tackled? 'Our family' and when that went to the crickets, "Male roles vs. Female roles in society". Yes, I can see that my questions "Do you have any brothers?" and "Do you cook dinner, or does your wife/husband?" are better left for NASA. So I asked what would be better subjects. Well, I'm the teacher! I'm getting paid to come up with these things, not her! But, fine, she'll help me. You know, things related to Korea more. Yes, family is too much of a foreign concept to wrap your mind around. Sorry about that. Next time it's all kimchi, all the time! Maybe some talk about the 4 seasons here, if we get a little crazy!

I suggested that we move the class to the English room, with the computer, TV, white board, lights and windows. Now I'm just being selfish. I'm going to make all the teachers walk through the cold halls to get there just to make my job easier?

Meh, who needed all those lessons that I made anyway. I'll just start from scratch now to satisfy 6 people at wildly different levels who all really want to talk about lots of things, but it's up to me to figure it out. In a tiny windowless room with absolutely to room to move around or illustrate any points.

I'm thinking of making this all into a project runway-esque reality show.

"We gave them 6 surly students who have no idea what they want, 3 of whom think they're already better than the teacher. They're not allowed to use chalk, markers, powerpoints, computers, any technology past 45BC really. Their mission is to have everyone fluent in a language they refuse to speak outside of this tiny windowless room within a month. The winner will go home. No, that's it. The winner will just go home. Trust us, that's all they want out of this."