Well blogtarts, it's official. I am allergic to my school.
The Principal keeps us on a strict budget. We are allowed lights and internet, school lunch on days when the kids have class, mops and brooms. Unnecessaries like hot water*, soap, and heat do not make the cut.
From now until the end of February, public schools have Spring Vacation. Why it follows one week on the heels of Winter Vacation, or how it anyway qualifies as a Spring-related event, I have no idea, but there it is. What I do know is that, according my contract, I have 20 vacation days. Not 20 days that I can take in addition to school vacations. Strictly 20 days. That means, unless I want to take one of the those, I am desk warming.
So far, desk warming has been pretty uneventful. I sip my Vanilla Delight until my eye lids droop, take naps, and watch Korean dramas. Oh yes...and "prepare" for next semester. It's fine, except that I end up going home with a head cold every day.
Under normal circumstances, I get a cold a once or twice in the winter. My immune system takes a battering from the usual suspects: pollen and flu season, which is guaranteed to be full of germy adults too stubborn to take a sick day and screw up their vacation time.
Small humans and their various fluids have been added to my life. Accessibility to hygienic procedures has been taken away. So desk warming amounts to huddling under my electric blanket, crisping my shins on a small heater with a five-inch warming radius, downing green tea and ramen waiting for the day to be over in an ice-box festering with bad-*ss bacteria that sucker punch me in the nose until it's impossible to get a sufficient dose of oxygen without heavy, open-mouthed breathing.
Gross.
According to a friend, she got sick a lot when she first came to Korea. After she got used to it, she hasn't gotten sick ever.
The "getting used to it" part took eight months.
Sigh...two more to go...
Thankfully, I have been granted a special vacation (read: not using my vacation days) by the Principal, so I don't have to come into school between the 23th and the 28th.
Assah!
(I realize that word kind of looks likes *ss, but it's how you say "woo hoo!" or "yes!!!" or "I'm a lucky son-of-a-gun" in Korean. pronounced AH-S-AAH.)
*Note: For the sake of accuracy, I have to mention that I discovered recently the school actually does have hot water. One pump, on one floor, that no one mentioned to me until about a week ago. But, in general, if you want hot water in school you have to boil it.
2.20.2011
2.19.2011
Dead Week
During February, we had one and a half weeks of school between Winter and Spring break. Considering that we (meaning the English teachers) finished our curriculum back in December) that time was spent just farting around to give the homeroom teachers a break from their overly rambunctious students.
In between playing Simon Says and watching "Up", the 4th graders had to finish up a short activity in their work books. Fill in the blanks, connect the dots, etc. What should have been a quick activity turned into a massive chat attack, with the kids shouting the answers back and forth across the room.
W-E-E-K__ __ __. Comes after Friday and before Monday.
"What is this?" One of the boys shouted. "Week...what?"
"Weekend!" three others shouted back.
"Spelling?"
"W-E-E-K-E-N-D."
He started scribbling. "W-E-E...." he stopped, confused. "What's the rest?"
"K-E-N-D." He friend shouted back.
"What?"
"K-E-N-D!" He friend shouted again.
"Candy?"
"No no! K-E-N-D."
Of course, I was standing right in front of this boy the whole time, giggling. He never thought to just ask me...
In between playing Simon Says and watching "Up", the 4th graders had to finish up a short activity in their work books. Fill in the blanks, connect the dots, etc. What should have been a quick activity turned into a massive chat attack, with the kids shouting the answers back and forth across the room.
W-E-E-K__ __ __. Comes after Friday and before Monday.
"What is this?" One of the boys shouted. "Week...what?"
"Weekend!" three others shouted back.
"Spelling?"
"W-E-E-K-E-N-D."
He started scribbling. "W-E-E...." he stopped, confused. "What's the rest?"
"K-E-N-D." He friend shouted back.
"What?"
"K-E-N-D!" He friend shouted again.
"Candy?"
"No no! K-E-N-D."
Of course, I was standing right in front of this boy the whole time, giggling. He never thought to just ask me...
2.15.2011
My ears turned on
During January, I spent a lot time studying Korean. I took myself to a coffee shop that offers service cake with their drinks, and would study all afternoon.
What is service cake?
One thing I have failed to mention (I think) is the abundance of random stuff that you are given in Korea. When you buy bacon, it comes with a package of sliced ham attached, no charge. Anything, like the ham, that is attached at no charge is called "service".
Except, it usually comes out sounding like "serb-is-uh".
When you buy a plain yogurt 4-pack, you a get an extra single strawberry yogurt tapped to the box.
serb-is-uh.
When you buy yarn, you can have a pair of needles.
serb-is-uh.
But my favorite by far is serb-is-uh cake. Because of this perk, I spent more time then usual at cafe Vivienda, studying and studying, trying to ignore the sounds of teenagers quietly making out in the private booths around me. I enjoyed the sunny afternoons and the teddy bear art on top of my green tea latte, and didn't think about it beyond that point.
On Monday, when I went back to school, I was bombarded.
The usual noise that presses on my brain unheeded had suddenly turned to words. I kept looking around, watching people's mouths, listening to conversations in shock.
I can hear.
I can understand.
I won't pat myself too heavily on the back. The understanding is basic, at best. But, to wake up one day and suddenly hear speech felt like someone had adjusted a radio dial in my brain and finally hit a clear channel.
Of course then, I had to ask myself - what do with this knew knowledge. Do I tell anyone? Should I talk, try to join a conversation?
I was still puzzling this decision at lunchtime, when all the teachers went out to a restaurant to eat, treated by the principal because the cafeteria doesn't open the first day back. In the car with the other teachers, I sat stoically while they huddled around me and discussed how cold it was for about 10 minutes.
(Nothing was done to make it warmer, like say turning the heat on, but the discussion continued).
Suddenly, one of the teachers started talking about me.
"Oh, Mishi Teacher! She doesn't speak Korean! I want to talk to her! How do I say...?"
Let me stop my story for a minute.
Everytime I go out with the teachers, they ask me the same questions. "How are you feeling?" "Is it cold?" "Where did you go to University?" "Where are you from?" On and on, an endless reel of questions they already know the answers to. And of course, they can't just ask me. They don't speak English. They ask Ghey the question, she repeats it in English, they repeat it, shyly, practice is a few times hestitantly in a whispered manner, wait at least 45 seconds, and then ask me.
Yes, I'm standing right there when it happens, biting the urge to answer question 1 minute into this 5 minute procedure.
When I try to speak to them, in English, in Korean, in gesture, they stare at me, giggle, talk to each other, discuss how cute I am, anything but respond, until Ghey is pestered into translating a response, and then we start all over.
Then, we get to a new round of questions. "How old are you?" "Do you have a boyfriend yet?" "Why aren't you married?"
I have to surpress the urge to stab someone with a chopstick.
With my new understanding of the language, I could put a stop to all this nonsense.
However...
I was suddenly, overwhelmingly tickled by the idea of imitation. Of giving blank stares, blank smiles, and upping the awkward factor of the conversation as much as possible.
So that's what I did.
With barely controlled laughter, I refused all overtures. I assumed a bemused expression and pretended to not even understand the basics of what they were saying. And because, as always, they underestimate what I know, we got stuck in loops of miscommunication that ended up with them not being able to talk to me.
It. Was. Hilarious.
Maybe in the future, when my skills jump up to a conversational level, I will grow up and speak to them in Korean, but for now it's much easier...and funnier...to just not.
Also, we didn't have to talk about my personal life.
Score!
What is service cake?
One thing I have failed to mention (I think) is the abundance of random stuff that you are given in Korea. When you buy bacon, it comes with a package of sliced ham attached, no charge. Anything, like the ham, that is attached at no charge is called "service".
Except, it usually comes out sounding like "serb-is-uh".
When you buy a plain yogurt 4-pack, you a get an extra single strawberry yogurt tapped to the box.
serb-is-uh.
When you buy yarn, you can have a pair of needles.
serb-is-uh.
But my favorite by far is serb-is-uh cake. Because of this perk, I spent more time then usual at cafe Vivienda, studying and studying, trying to ignore the sounds of teenagers quietly making out in the private booths around me. I enjoyed the sunny afternoons and the teddy bear art on top of my green tea latte, and didn't think about it beyond that point.
On Monday, when I went back to school, I was bombarded.
The usual noise that presses on my brain unheeded had suddenly turned to words. I kept looking around, watching people's mouths, listening to conversations in shock.
I can hear.
I can understand.
I won't pat myself too heavily on the back. The understanding is basic, at best. But, to wake up one day and suddenly hear speech felt like someone had adjusted a radio dial in my brain and finally hit a clear channel.
Of course then, I had to ask myself - what do with this knew knowledge. Do I tell anyone? Should I talk, try to join a conversation?
I was still puzzling this decision at lunchtime, when all the teachers went out to a restaurant to eat, treated by the principal because the cafeteria doesn't open the first day back. In the car with the other teachers, I sat stoically while they huddled around me and discussed how cold it was for about 10 minutes.
(Nothing was done to make it warmer, like say turning the heat on, but the discussion continued).
Suddenly, one of the teachers started talking about me.
"Oh, Mishi Teacher! She doesn't speak Korean! I want to talk to her! How do I say...?"
Let me stop my story for a minute.
Everytime I go out with the teachers, they ask me the same questions. "How are you feeling?" "Is it cold?" "Where did you go to University?" "Where are you from?" On and on, an endless reel of questions they already know the answers to. And of course, they can't just ask me. They don't speak English. They ask Ghey the question, she repeats it in English, they repeat it, shyly, practice is a few times hestitantly in a whispered manner, wait at least 45 seconds, and then ask me.
Yes, I'm standing right there when it happens, biting the urge to answer question 1 minute into this 5 minute procedure.
When I try to speak to them, in English, in Korean, in gesture, they stare at me, giggle, talk to each other, discuss how cute I am, anything but respond, until Ghey is pestered into translating a response, and then we start all over.
Then, we get to a new round of questions. "How old are you?" "Do you have a boyfriend yet?" "Why aren't you married?"
I have to surpress the urge to stab someone with a chopstick.
With my new understanding of the language, I could put a stop to all this nonsense.
However...
I was suddenly, overwhelmingly tickled by the idea of imitation. Of giving blank stares, blank smiles, and upping the awkward factor of the conversation as much as possible.
So that's what I did.
With barely controlled laughter, I refused all overtures. I assumed a bemused expression and pretended to not even understand the basics of what they were saying. And because, as always, they underestimate what I know, we got stuck in loops of miscommunication that ended up with them not being able to talk to me.
It. Was. Hilarious.
Maybe in the future, when my skills jump up to a conversational level, I will grow up and speak to them in Korean, but for now it's much easier...and funnier...to just not.
Also, we didn't have to talk about my personal life.
Score!
2.14.2011
Vanilla Delight
This morning on my way to work, I stopped at Holly's Coffee for a latte. I stayed up too late the night before, celebrating my friend's birthday, and my eyes were refusing to open, my limbs felt heavy, and I almost fell asleep in the elevator between the 12th and 1st floor. What I needed, desperately, was a boost of caffeine to kick start my brain into action and power through my day. I have learned from experience, though, that Holly's Coffee is a bit on the bitter side, so I opted instead to get a vanilla latte.
I exchanged greetings with the barista, then ordered.
"Oh..." she said, "Vanilla Latte? No..." she pointed at the menu on the wall, "Vanilla Delight?"
I looked up to a huge picture of a coffee mug with a perfect dome of foam on top, and waves of steam wafting appealingly into the curly lettering above the said Holly's Coffee Vanilla Delight!!
"Is that coffee?" I asked.
"Yes!" The barista giggled.
"Ok, I'll take that."
She turned to her trainee and started muttering in Korean,
"We don't have Vanilla Lattes. We have Vanilla Delights. This is what you need to make one..."
I stopped listening.
One of the bonuses of being able to read Korean is that I can double check information that people give me. For example, being told that Holly's Coffee magically doesn't serve vanilla lattes anymore, but has a drink called vanilla delight that is equally delicious, but not the same thing...sounds like a pile of marketing crap.
So I read the description while I was waiting:
Vanilla Delight
Coffee Latte with steamed milk and vanilla.
If my brain was soaked with exhaustion, I would have burst out laughing. Oh...Korea...
I exchanged greetings with the barista, then ordered.
"Oh..." she said, "Vanilla Latte? No..." she pointed at the menu on the wall, "Vanilla Delight?"
I looked up to a huge picture of a coffee mug with a perfect dome of foam on top, and waves of steam wafting appealingly into the curly lettering above the said Holly's Coffee Vanilla Delight!!
"Is that coffee?" I asked.
"Yes!" The barista giggled.
"Ok, I'll take that."
She turned to her trainee and started muttering in Korean,
"We don't have Vanilla Lattes. We have Vanilla Delights. This is what you need to make one..."
I stopped listening.
One of the bonuses of being able to read Korean is that I can double check information that people give me. For example, being told that Holly's Coffee magically doesn't serve vanilla lattes anymore, but has a drink called vanilla delight that is equally delicious, but not the same thing...sounds like a pile of marketing crap.
So I read the description while I was waiting:
Vanilla Delight
Coffee Latte with steamed milk and vanilla.
If my brain was soaked with exhaustion, I would have burst out laughing. Oh...Korea...
2.06.2011
Eating Kimchi again
Not being able to eat kimchi is a problem. I mean, it's everywhere, at every meal. If you, like me, find that your stomach suddenly can't handle to strength, I will make this suggestion:
grill it.
And the world tilts back towards normal.
grill it.
And the world tilts back towards normal.
2.03.2011
The Stomach Flip
As of January 1st, my stomach began to violently refuse Korean food. The sight, the smell of earthy, spicy, fermented or fried made me feel sick. I didn't want anything - no gimbap, no gabli, aeind definitely no kimchi. I was also, unfortunately, feeling too lazy to cook.
Talk about being up the creek.
At first, I just stopped eating. In the absence of appetite, I couldn't force food past my gag reflex. I kept try to muscle past my new distaste for Korean cuisine, but it wasn't working. So then I switched to a diet of cheez-its, fried eggs, and tuna fish sandwiches.
During the last week of Harry Potter camp, one of my co-teachers worked with me. Just back from the Philippines for vacation, she wanted to tell me all about her trip.
"How about lunch?" she said.
I considered bibimbap and seaweed soup. I instantly felt nauseous.
"I'm really busy," I said.
I totally felt guilty for avoiding her, but I just couldn't - absolutely would not - share a meal with her. And telling her that eating with her would make me sick? There's no way to spin that one without sounding ridiculously rude. So I did the adult thing and avoided her, sneaking out of school to run home and cook myself a bacon and eggs breakfast sandwich.
When I mentioned my new digestive issues to my friends, they told me that this happens to everyone. First, you love Korean food, then you hate it, then you start all over again.
Sigh...
My only dine-out options have been McDonald's and nachos from RnB. It's a little gross to be going broke over French fry and cheese cravings.
Thankfully, I seem to be on the downswing. Yesterday I managed to eat some grilled kimchi. I am goose stepping back into Korean food, gently. Until I completely readjust, I preparing myself for the looks of horrified curiosity from my co-workers when I start bringing my own food for lunch.
Talk about being up the creek.
At first, I just stopped eating. In the absence of appetite, I couldn't force food past my gag reflex. I kept try to muscle past my new distaste for Korean cuisine, but it wasn't working. So then I switched to a diet of cheez-its, fried eggs, and tuna fish sandwiches.
During the last week of Harry Potter camp, one of my co-teachers worked with me. Just back from the Philippines for vacation, she wanted to tell me all about her trip.
"How about lunch?" she said.
I considered bibimbap and seaweed soup. I instantly felt nauseous.
"I'm really busy," I said.
I totally felt guilty for avoiding her, but I just couldn't - absolutely would not - share a meal with her. And telling her that eating with her would make me sick? There's no way to spin that one without sounding ridiculously rude. So I did the adult thing and avoided her, sneaking out of school to run home and cook myself a bacon and eggs breakfast sandwich.
When I mentioned my new digestive issues to my friends, they told me that this happens to everyone. First, you love Korean food, then you hate it, then you start all over again.
Sigh...
My only dine-out options have been McDonald's and nachos from RnB. It's a little gross to be going broke over French fry and cheese cravings.
Thankfully, I seem to be on the downswing. Yesterday I managed to eat some grilled kimchi. I am goose stepping back into Korean food, gently. Until I completely readjust, I preparing myself for the looks of horrified curiosity from my co-workers when I start bringing my own food for lunch.
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