Hello from the beautiful
That’s just the start of the subtle weirdness of this country. In
I haven’t yet stopped in my tracks, gawped and muttered “what the fuck?”. What I have done is glimpsed something, ignored it and then have it bounce around my head until a little voice goes: “ Hang on a bit”.
It started upon arrival. There is nothing extraordinary about Incheon airport. It’s your standard, made to impress, modern Asian airport. Customs are not particularly arsey and I was out of it in a jiffy to be greeted by a placard with my name on it and a guy whose mission in life was to put me in a pre-paid taxi to where I am now. The motorway skirts
More precisely I got to see shitloads of red neon crosses. To my joy and delight, the evangelical Christians have gained a strong foothold in this peninsula and they like to show off. They build more churches than necessary and then top them with a big red neon cross. Christianity meets standard Asian marketing. JC, like anything else, just isn’t real if he isn’t in flashy and visible for fecking miles
I got to the
On this one I have lucked out. A quick chat with other foreign teachers have revealed that speaking English is rarely a requirement for Korean teachers even if what they teach is, well, English. My co-teacher not only speaks English reasonably well she is also young and pretty to look at during office hours. I had expected to start a war with her over control of the classroom but it seems that she goes against all stereotypes of the face-saving, obstinate and excessively status conscious Asian bureaucrat. Let me explain.
I had geared myself up for a long battle as my predecessor had been relegated to classroom spectator who occasionally read dialogues from the book. This worried me a bit. I think teachers should be possessive of their students as it links the student’s progress with job satisfaction. If you see them as your students then you want them to do well in only as a reflection of your skill. This might be petty but it gives decent results.
I was not willing to play second fiddle and thought I was going to be yet another classroom soldier fighting the evils of Confucianist educational methods. I would hammer on about how I want to give the children communication tools and develop new ways of conceptualising and my co teacher would try to impose the absolutist, learn by rote methods that have ensured that, from Beijing to Tokyo via Seoul, 9 year olds could ace a Western math test in half the time allowed yet will become Uni graduates who will freeze like a deer in headlights if asked to order a meal in English.
However, my co-teacher has decided to shatter my arrogant stereotype and we get along in a rather professional manner whereas I cook up lesson plans and she is generally complimentary though she does point out the odd area where she knows the students will struggle. I get to do a lot of teaching which satisfies me. The previous foreign teacher was a Korean American whose utter cluelessness made my co-teacher take the wise decision to limit the amount of damage he could inflict on her charges.
All in all I am quite lucky even if the “newbie in
My first social outing was an overnight trip to the
I want to conclude by a quick clarification over my
I also don't want to venture in the blame game of the Israeli-Arab pagga that pollutes the internet and I won't presume to have some sort of solution when nearly every statesman has given it a crack and failed miserably. Some things do seem fucking stupid though. The territories are an open prison where the inmates have committed no crime. The Israelis I met know that doing their military service there fucks them up badly, more so than those who went fighting in
Long story short, I liked
Anyhoo, I am now in my new flat celebrating being connected to the interweb by this post. I also have Korean cable now so I can watch Starcraft channels. Hopefully I will inject enough posts in my time here to keep the blog alive but no promises. I am quite content at the moment and feeling lucky that I have had none of the mishaps and fuckups that make
Then again luck might not have much to do with it. In my last afternoon in my old bedsit near my school I heard repeated screaming and shouting. It had a pattern so I assumed this was a Taekwondo thing and ignored it. The next day I saw a huge pentacle drawn in the sand of the school's yard.
What's Korean for wickerman?
Take care,
Arabin