My student Eric's new year's resolution:
"Teacher! My New Year's plan! When I in bathroom and shwii (the Korean word for peeing), and shwii is on toilet and messy, I New Year's plan to clean up the shwii!"
"That's a great New Year's plan, Eric. Your mommy will be very happy if you do that."
In that vein, my New Year's resolution is that when I forget to wash my dishes after I
cook, and leave them for so long that my roommate washes them instead, so that he can use the pan or the plates, this year, I'll say, "Thanks" instead of "Sucker".
one expat's life in Korea
Monday, January 08, 2007
Report on Malaysia!
I'm back from Malaysia, relaxed, fadingly sunburnt, and full of great stories. I didn't bring a camera to Malaysia (my two coworkers both brought theirs, and one of them is a shutterbug, so I figured we'd get plenty pictures), so I made a point of journalling every chance I got, to write down impressions, thoughts, things I'd noticed, before they escaped me, and I filled up almost an entire (small, to be fair) journal!
The trip was, to apply an overarching theme (without dismissing the rest of what happened) a journey of characters.
My favorite characters were:
The cross-eyed restaurant owner who'd ordered for us before we had a chance to say "actually, I DON'T feel like having redsnapper tonight" -- it took a concerted effort to get him to order something else for us that we actually wanted, but once he had, the dishes were quite marvellous!
Jimmy, the hotel proprietor in Georgetown on Penang Island. Two buildings down from his inn were some sketchy kinds of places with ladies in short skirts standing in the doorway, but he (in a crackled, raggedy old voice, with his gap-toothed mouth,) helped us do everything we wanted to do, including connecting us with a guest house on Langkawi Island (such a beautiful little resort island), taxiing us around, and storing my winter jacket while I didn't need it.
The guy at the Jam Band Cafe. His speaking voice sounded like a sore-throated man, doing an impression of a little boy disguising his voice to sound like an adult over the phone. (Follow that?) Then, when he sang, he sounded like the lead singer from Pearl Jam, if someone were holding his head under water and squeezing his larynx. Every break between songs, he'd go from table to table, asking people if they played an instrument, if they wanted to come up and jam with him, or else he'd introduce the next song in his unbelievable voice (and with a mullet to stop a bullet), saying things like "this soooong is a ... it's a song for people who want to hear songs with people, because people, you know, that's what it's all about, is people understanding and understanding you understanding me that life man, that's people. Sorry about me all this woof woof bla bla dadedah in the talking with all you people out there. . . " and so forth. Fantastic. For the rest of the week we'd occasionally start talking like him, for giggles and such.
The masseuse from Borneo who started chatting about music with me, and by the end of the hour-long massage was singing me full choruses of her favorite Rod Stewart and Destiny's Child songs, to see if I knew them.
The lady who sold me one of those lovely light cotton beach shirts, and talked in this singsong voice that was either an exhausted person trying to put on a cheerful face, a bitter, disillusioned woman being sarcastically chipper to the tourists she despises, or a second language English speaker using a style of intonation that's really cute or charming in her original language, but sounds incredibly forced and contrived in English. Couldn't quite get a read on her.
The taxi driver who took me across Langkawi Island on the way to a tour (also mulleted. . . this is making me nervous), and told me, among other things, "my wife left me to go back to the city. Didn't like island life, slow pace, didn't like that I have less earning power here than pushing pencils in Kuala Lumpur. I said she can go. . . but if she wants to come back, she might have to take a number!" and "You gonna stay in Korea long?" (me:) "I don't know. My sister really wants me to come back to Canada for good." "Well you tell your sister, if she can find a rich lady in Canada wants to marry you, you'll come back to stay." The guy cracked me up about three times a minute.
The main port in Langkawi Island was a town called Kuai, which literally means "gravy" because there's an old legend that some giants spilled some gravy on that spot. What a great legend! Forget myths and tales and narratives! Here's to random placenames from cute anecdotes about mythical beings! "Yes, this town is called. . . Missed A Spot, because after Velman the Giantwife washed the Titan Balgor's shirt for the first time, he spotted a wine stain, and threw his shirt down onto the very place where our city hall now stands!"
"What happened next, grandfather?"
"They went on to the next island, and spent the second night of their marriage where we now find the town called 'Bickering'"
Here are some pictures.
"Lah" is the saying Malaysians (apparently) use the way Canadians say "eh". We saw this sign encouraging Malaysians to learn proper English.
The music at one club was so terrible, Amy and I had to bust out some ballroom moves, while Antony took pictures. This picture won both "best action shot" and "silliest face".
Did I mention that it's really pretty in Malaysia? And that I had to wear shorts this day (December 27th)? That's right, it's true. Sucka!
(These pictures are from Antony's camera. That's why they're all of me and Amy together.)
The trip was, to apply an overarching theme (without dismissing the rest of what happened) a journey of characters.
My favorite characters were:
The cross-eyed restaurant owner who'd ordered for us before we had a chance to say "actually, I DON'T feel like having redsnapper tonight" -- it took a concerted effort to get him to order something else for us that we actually wanted, but once he had, the dishes were quite marvellous!
Jimmy, the hotel proprietor in Georgetown on Penang Island. Two buildings down from his inn were some sketchy kinds of places with ladies in short skirts standing in the doorway, but he (in a crackled, raggedy old voice, with his gap-toothed mouth,) helped us do everything we wanted to do, including connecting us with a guest house on Langkawi Island (such a beautiful little resort island), taxiing us around, and storing my winter jacket while I didn't need it.
The guy at the Jam Band Cafe. His speaking voice sounded like a sore-throated man, doing an impression of a little boy disguising his voice to sound like an adult over the phone. (Follow that?) Then, when he sang, he sounded like the lead singer from Pearl Jam, if someone were holding his head under water and squeezing his larynx. Every break between songs, he'd go from table to table, asking people if they played an instrument, if they wanted to come up and jam with him, or else he'd introduce the next song in his unbelievable voice (and with a mullet to stop a bullet), saying things like "this soooong is a ... it's a song for people who want to hear songs with people, because people, you know, that's what it's all about, is people understanding and understanding you understanding me that life man, that's people. Sorry about me all this woof woof bla bla dadedah in the talking with all you people out there. . . " and so forth. Fantastic. For the rest of the week we'd occasionally start talking like him, for giggles and such.
The masseuse from Borneo who started chatting about music with me, and by the end of the hour-long massage was singing me full choruses of her favorite Rod Stewart and Destiny's Child songs, to see if I knew them.
The lady who sold me one of those lovely light cotton beach shirts, and talked in this singsong voice that was either an exhausted person trying to put on a cheerful face, a bitter, disillusioned woman being sarcastically chipper to the tourists she despises, or a second language English speaker using a style of intonation that's really cute or charming in her original language, but sounds incredibly forced and contrived in English. Couldn't quite get a read on her.
The taxi driver who took me across Langkawi Island on the way to a tour (also mulleted. . . this is making me nervous), and told me, among other things, "my wife left me to go back to the city. Didn't like island life, slow pace, didn't like that I have less earning power here than pushing pencils in Kuala Lumpur. I said she can go. . . but if she wants to come back, she might have to take a number!" and "You gonna stay in Korea long?" (me:) "I don't know. My sister really wants me to come back to Canada for good." "Well you tell your sister, if she can find a rich lady in Canada wants to marry you, you'll come back to stay." The guy cracked me up about three times a minute.
The main port in Langkawi Island was a town called Kuai, which literally means "gravy" because there's an old legend that some giants spilled some gravy on that spot. What a great legend! Forget myths and tales and narratives! Here's to random placenames from cute anecdotes about mythical beings! "Yes, this town is called. . . Missed A Spot, because after Velman the Giantwife washed the Titan Balgor's shirt for the first time, he spotted a wine stain, and threw his shirt down onto the very place where our city hall now stands!"
"What happened next, grandfather?"
"They went on to the next island, and spent the second night of their marriage where we now find the town called 'Bickering'"
Here are some pictures.
"Lah" is the saying Malaysians (apparently) use the way Canadians say "eh". We saw this sign encouraging Malaysians to learn proper English.
The music at one club was so terrible, Amy and I had to bust out some ballroom moves, while Antony took pictures. This picture won both "best action shot" and "silliest face".
Did I mention that it's really pretty in Malaysia? And that I had to wear shorts this day (December 27th)? That's right, it's true. Sucka!
(These pictures are from Antony's camera. That's why they're all of me and Amy together.)
Saturday, December 23, 2006
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Merry Christmas everyone! I'm going to Malaysia for nine days, to sit on the beach, ride elephants, and get massages and great food for cheap.
I love you all, I promise I'll post some stories and maybe even pictures, and I hope you all have a great Christmas and new year with people you love!
love: Rob
I love you all, I promise I'll post some stories and maybe even pictures, and I hope you all have a great Christmas and new year with people you love!
love: Rob
Thursday, December 21, 2006
A Christmas Movie
Who DOESN'T love the movie Love Actually? If you watched it, I mean, properly watched it, paying attention and all, and hadn't just been dumped by your honey (so that it brought back the sadness), but you still didn't enjoy it, please, let me know why? I totally don't get it when people don't think that movie's sweet, funny, warm, and romantic. (Responses saying things like "needed some wild nekkid sex scenes" or "I h8 awl moovies wiht no kung foo so it sukkd," need not reply.) And don't say "it's too sappy and cute" either -- of COURSE it's sappy and cute. That's what you're signing up for when you get a movie called "Love Actually" -- that's like renting "Cheerleader Chainsaw Massacre 5" and then disliking it because it was kinky and gory. I suppose the "too many storylines" beef is legitimate: if you don't pay attention you'll get lost, but if you DO pay attention, it's so charming! And if you DON'T want to pay attention, if you just rent movies to snuggle with your sweety, then get The Santa Clause 2, so that you have a reason to look away from the TV and snuggle more, by gum, and rent Love Actually another time! That's right. I refuse to allow anybody reading my blog to dislike Love Actually! Unequivocally! (You can't tell, but I just pounded my fist on my desk.)
Also: if you haven't seen "A Christmas Story" (unavailable in Korea, and it hurts me, it hurts me so, that it isn't), go out right now and find it. Track it down if you must. It's the best movie that nobody's seen (though people with cable TV will say it's as overplayed as Shawshank Redemption (or Jean-Claude VanDamme and Steven Seagal movies in Korea -- they're always running on one channel or another)). I'd put Christmas Story right up there with "Army of Darkness" for cult classics. I'll even go as far as to call it the "Princess Bride" of Christmas Movies (and anyone who knows me could attest to my feelings about The Princess Bride -- tie me down and give me a lollipop, that movie's better than spaghetti!)
I'm going to Malaysia for Christmas. When I get back, I'm gonna put up something Sally (the bright one) wrote and sent to me, and tell you about our adventures in Saccaria. I'm a bit worried right now -- my stuffed elephant Zooey seems to have been kidnapped by aliens, and we hope to rescue him before anything really terrible happens. It might be the subject of my next story.
Merry Christmas all, love love love:
Rob
(ps: here's a video from the movie "Love Actually" DVD special features. You know how every Christmas, some sell-out washed-up rockstar records a crap Christmas record to grab some cash? Well this video mocks those cynical stinkers every bit as much as they deserve.)
Christmas Is All Around - Billy Mack
Also: if you haven't seen "A Christmas Story" (unavailable in Korea, and it hurts me, it hurts me so, that it isn't), go out right now and find it. Track it down if you must. It's the best movie that nobody's seen (though people with cable TV will say it's as overplayed as Shawshank Redemption (or Jean-Claude VanDamme and Steven Seagal movies in Korea -- they're always running on one channel or another)). I'd put Christmas Story right up there with "Army of Darkness" for cult classics. I'll even go as far as to call it the "Princess Bride" of Christmas Movies (and anyone who knows me could attest to my feelings about The Princess Bride -- tie me down and give me a lollipop, that movie's better than spaghetti!)
I'm going to Malaysia for Christmas. When I get back, I'm gonna put up something Sally (the bright one) wrote and sent to me, and tell you about our adventures in Saccaria. I'm a bit worried right now -- my stuffed elephant Zooey seems to have been kidnapped by aliens, and we hope to rescue him before anything really terrible happens. It might be the subject of my next story.
Merry Christmas all, love love love:
Rob
(ps: here's a video from the movie "Love Actually" DVD special features. You know how every Christmas, some sell-out washed-up rockstar records a crap Christmas record to grab some cash? Well this video mocks those cynical stinkers every bit as much as they deserve.)
Christmas Is All Around - Billy Mack
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Another student crack-up.
They were in fine form today. It was parents' day, so the parents could come, and sit in on a class, to see how their children were coming along. It's a stressful day for the teachers, but we made it through OK. Before the parents came, I briefed my kids on how to behave properly during the open class. I told them to sit properly, raise their hands, and wait to be called on.
James piped up, "Or else mommy will take you to bathroom, pok pok pok!" (he mimed a spanking motion with his hand.)
I said, "I hope your mommy won't take you to the bathroom and spank you, but I also hope you're very good boys and girls today!"
Then Willy said, "But mommy is a girl. I'm a boy!"
So I rubbed it in: "Yes, Willy! Maybe your mommy will take you into the girls' bathroom!" All the boys shrieked, thinking, "wow, that would be doubly embarrassing!"
One of my girls, Arooh, smiled smugly, "I'm a girl that's OK. I can girls bathroom going that's OK."
To which Willy promptly replied, "Your daddy will come."
Wiped the smug smile off her face like lightning, and made me laugh out loud.
James piped up, "Or else mommy will take you to bathroom, pok pok pok!" (he mimed a spanking motion with his hand.)
I said, "I hope your mommy won't take you to the bathroom and spank you, but I also hope you're very good boys and girls today!"
Then Willy said, "But mommy is a girl. I'm a boy!"
So I rubbed it in: "Yes, Willy! Maybe your mommy will take you into the girls' bathroom!" All the boys shrieked, thinking, "wow, that would be doubly embarrassing!"
One of my girls, Arooh, smiled smugly, "I'm a girl that's OK. I can girls bathroom going that's OK."
To which Willy promptly replied, "Your daddy will come."
Wiped the smug smile off her face like lightning, and made me laugh out loud.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
I'm gonna post links and things like that on this blog, and just assume everyone has an internet connection fast enough for streaming video, large graphic files, etc.. If you don't, check out file sizes on pictures or whatever you want to download, to make sure you don't tie up your computer for long stretches of time, and just. . . kind of . . . be aware of that. You might miss out on some of the fun stuff. Sorry.
http://howitshouldhaveended.com/Divx%20links/Superman.html
This one made me laugh out loud.
There's also a pretty good clip on the same website about Lord Of The Rings.
http://howitshouldhaveended.com/Divx%20links/Superman.html
This one made me laugh out loud.
There's also a pretty good clip on the same website about Lord Of The Rings.
Silly conversation in class.
Had a lot of bloody noses in school today. Yuk. My student Danny's like a geyser-- get him excited and suddenly blood's flying everywhere.
Our former teacher Ashley came to visit at lunch time. She taught at SLP for quite a while, so the kids remember and miss her; a handful of the kids in my class now were in her homeroom back in the day. Ashley came to my class just after lunch finished to say hello to me and the students, so I encouraged the kids who knew here well to get out of their chairs (I've finally trained them well enough that they USUALLY wait for my say-so before they're up and about) and give Ashley a hug. Or a kiss. Or a tickle. You know, just to keep things interesting.
Once everybody returned to their seats, Kevin started teasing James (who used to be one of Ashley's favourites) that he wanted to give Ashley a kiss, so I kept pretending I heard Kevin saying he wanted ot give Ashley a kiss. Once most of the students were giggling, I asked Kevin if he wanted to marry Ashley. He, sensing the humour in the moment, agreed. "Yes, teacher."
I offered to phone Ashley on my cellphone and make the proposal. Kevin agreed, so I got out my phone, pretended to push some buttons, and then made a big show of asking Ashley if she wanted to marry Kevin.
"Oh. Kevin, before she agrees to marry you," I said, she has some questions.
"OK teacher."
"Do you have a car?"
"Yes."
"Do you have money?"
"Yes."
"Does your daddy have money?"
"Yes." (I'm relaying these yes's into the phone.)
"Will your mommy be nice to Ashley if she marries you?" (I've heard some really remarkable stories from women who married firstborn sons in Korea, and the epically harsh treatment some mothers in law give to their sons' wives -- Western mothers-in-law really have some catching up to do, if the stories are true. And it's much harder in Korea to convince your husband to move to a different city, because of the cultural, familial obligation of the firstborn to the parents -- sometimes, when Koreans find out that I'm a firstborn son, they're surprised that I'm here in Korea rather than living with my father and taking care of him, especially because 1. I'm not married, and 2. My mom died.)
"Yes," Kevin assured me his mommy will be nice to his new wife.
I passed that last "Yes," into the phone, and said, "OK, Kevin. Ashley says she'll marry you!"
The class had a good laugh together. I've had to spend a lot of time breaking up arguments and things in that class, so it's a really nice release to have a few good laughs with them, too.
One of my students told me I'm funnyman, so I answered, "I'm not funnyman. I'm BATMAN!"
(and I have the t-shirt to prove it).
In a related story, to file under "Rob is a nerd", this photo was taken when the photographers came to my school. We took another one that looks normal, but this is the one that got the best reaction when all the teachers looked through the proofs.
Our former teacher Ashley came to visit at lunch time. She taught at SLP for quite a while, so the kids remember and miss her; a handful of the kids in my class now were in her homeroom back in the day. Ashley came to my class just after lunch finished to say hello to me and the students, so I encouraged the kids who knew here well to get out of their chairs (I've finally trained them well enough that they USUALLY wait for my say-so before they're up and about) and give Ashley a hug. Or a kiss. Or a tickle. You know, just to keep things interesting.
Once everybody returned to their seats, Kevin started teasing James (who used to be one of Ashley's favourites) that he wanted to give Ashley a kiss, so I kept pretending I heard Kevin saying he wanted ot give Ashley a kiss. Once most of the students were giggling, I asked Kevin if he wanted to marry Ashley. He, sensing the humour in the moment, agreed. "Yes, teacher."
I offered to phone Ashley on my cellphone and make the proposal. Kevin agreed, so I got out my phone, pretended to push some buttons, and then made a big show of asking Ashley if she wanted to marry Kevin.
"Oh. Kevin, before she agrees to marry you," I said, she has some questions.
"OK teacher."
"Do you have a car?"
"Yes."
"Do you have money?"
"Yes."
"Does your daddy have money?"
"Yes." (I'm relaying these yes's into the phone.)
"Will your mommy be nice to Ashley if she marries you?" (I've heard some really remarkable stories from women who married firstborn sons in Korea, and the epically harsh treatment some mothers in law give to their sons' wives -- Western mothers-in-law really have some catching up to do, if the stories are true. And it's much harder in Korea to convince your husband to move to a different city, because of the cultural, familial obligation of the firstborn to the parents -- sometimes, when Koreans find out that I'm a firstborn son, they're surprised that I'm here in Korea rather than living with my father and taking care of him, especially because 1. I'm not married, and 2. My mom died.)
"Yes," Kevin assured me his mommy will be nice to his new wife.
I passed that last "Yes," into the phone, and said, "OK, Kevin. Ashley says she'll marry you!"
The class had a good laugh together. I've had to spend a lot of time breaking up arguments and things in that class, so it's a really nice release to have a few good laughs with them, too.
One of my students told me I'm funnyman, so I answered, "I'm not funnyman. I'm BATMAN!"
(and I have the t-shirt to prove it).
In a related story, to file under "Rob is a nerd", this photo was taken when the photographers came to my school. We took another one that looks normal, but this is the one that got the best reaction when all the teachers looked through the proofs.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Definition of Irony
Text message I got from a Korean friend of mine yesterday:
"Sorry. I can't meet you tonight for dinner. I have to study English."
"Sorry. I can't meet you tonight for dinner. I have to study English."
Monday, November 27, 2006
Here are some of my favourite pictures of my students.
Tom might be the cutest boy in any of my classes. Speaks amazingly well too.
Ryan actually thinks he's Tigger. Sometimes he climbs out of his chair, and stands in front of me, bouncing like Tigger. I sang "The Tigger Song" to him and he almost fell over from dancing so hard.
I love the pure joy in Jessie's face here, and also in Cecilia's face on the next picture.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
November 25th 2006: More sad news and a long-awaited update.
Hi everybody. Thanks so much for continuing to care and hear about me. One of my other friends, who writes updates, kindly gave her readers an opt-out clause. I never have before, but here you go. If you don't read these anyway, or if you don't want them, or never liked me in the first place (ha ha ha), please feel free to reply, and ask me to take you off the list. I'm not a great correspondent, so being off this list doesn't mean I'll immediately start writing you personal e-mails -- this update is intended to keep people I care about in the loop, despite my bad record at keeping in touch. But that said, if you don't want the letters, feel free to opt out. I won't give you any grief if you're too busy, or if you feel like your life has moved on.
Since my last e-mail, things have been hectic, beginning with...
A trip to Shanghai -- fantastic city! Interesting regions, lots of french architecture, because it was originally built up by the
French. Huge difference between rich and poor there, but a fantastically engineered skyline and some really, really, really great food. Also, the internationals there (though maybe this was just because I moved around in the tourist areas) were a lot more varied than in Korea, it seemed. In Korea, most internationals are English speaking teachers or soldiers, or German-speaking tourists (to be really general). I heard snatches of all kinds of languages in Shanghai, and faces that looked like they came from all kinds of places.
My longtime coworker Heather had a baby! They're all healthy, and her husband Caleb Overstreet (you know him, Cheryl) is so cute when he talks about being a daddy. Suddenly he turned about five times softer and sweeter. My brother once told me about one of his friends seeing his first child for the first time, saying "a whole new section of my heart opened up", and I've seen Caleb change once that new section opened in his heart. It's amazing. It's difficult for me to wax eloquent about such a thing because I've only seen the effect and not experienced it, except to say that anybody I've ever asked about it (including a
brand-new grandfather) still steadfastly tells me that seeing your own kids for the first time is one of the most transformative events in your life. Maybe sometime I'll get a chance to experience that. (Now don't everybody think I'm dropping hints or fixing to settle down by that -- this is just to say that I've been seriously touched by this parenthood thing.) Having seen how parenthood (or coming parenthood) has changed a handful of my friends (and more every year), it's a beautiful thing, the way their roots suddenly, so effortlessly deepen, and their lives suddenly have another meaning added to it, and a meaning that comes completely out of love. It also helps me understand how some of the parents I deal with in the preschool have so little perspective on their kids -- "Well, he's really a good boy -- he just has a little problem hitting his classmates and stealing their toys and ripping pages out of books for attention and whining when he's punished -- but he has a sweet heart inside."
As Heather's due date approached, the doctor's order for her to stop teaching and rest added a whole new wrinkle to the whole
work situation. Our boss didn't manage to find a replacement on time, so first I had to teach overtime to fill in for some of her classes, and then the replacement he did find. . .
None of the teachers at the school got a good feeling about the e-mails she sent, but we didn't really do much about it at the time. Then, she arrived. Her name was Angi. She was older than the rest of us, and an extremely intense person. We'd have a beer together and she'd want to have more, go to another place, go to the clubbing district, and go until six AM. Somehow, every time she talked to my boss, it turned into a shouting, crying fit -- I've never seen a relationship get to explosive so quickly before. She made unreasonable demands that were outside the contract's parameters, she lost the receipt for her airplane ticket, when my boss had sent her money to buy it. If she didn't get what she wanted, right away, she'd blow up, and turn extremely rude. Meanwhile, she showed up late for work regularly, smoked in our building (which is against the law), and basically made the workplace very stressful.
She got herself fired in only three weeks, which is remarkable. Really remarkable. Considering how expensive it is to get a western teacher out to Korea, to have Mr. Kim willing to cut his losses and get her out of the school community after such a short time shows how negative her influence was on the school, in just about every way.
So, I was back to teaching overtime until we could find another replacement. Meanwhile, the school's new academic supervisor
had her first September, which is the beginning of a new semester, and she had to learn the ropes while juggling new classes, new books, and hundreds of phone calls from parents who wanted their kids in a higher level. As she was busy, she passed the SLP Speech Contest completely over to me. So, I was working overtime, organizing a schoolwide contest, and trying to hold together a preschool program with a new teacher, and a missing teacher. My roommate Antony was a champ for filling in for as long as he did, working twelve hour days without complaining. Finally, Lorraine came, and she's worked out really well, and my schedule, since the Speech Contest finished (on my birthday), has returned to normal just in time for next year's preschool recruiting season.
All that to say, I've been busy. It's been an adventurous time. Melissa, my old roommate, left, and her replacement is great. I like Amy quite a bit. We miss Melissa, of course, but Amy's nice too.
Since mid-August, if you asked me about my life, I'd tell you that I was too busy to do the things I loved in life.
Too busy to see friends, too busy to spend huge tracts of time alone in coffee shops, too busy to take long walks, do yoga, and write poetry.
Then I'd tell you about the bright spot in my life:
When Melissa left, she introduced me to a family she knew. The two daughters were Sally and Lisa, and Sally is a certifiable genius. She taught herself English, and now she speaks it, and writes it, better than most native speakers her age. She's nine, and she reads books written for 12-15 year-olds.
here's a video clip from a movie I saw (one of my favorites) about a Korean girl who signs up for English lessons. Sally
appears in it. Wait for the clip to upload, and then skip to about the 8:20 mark, and you can see her. The movie was made in 2003, so she's a bit older now, but you get the idea.
[the video has been taken down, due to copyright violations]
That's Sally saying "Your English is terrible."
She's sweet and smart and awesome. Her tutor is teaching her advanced writing -- formal writing in particular -- because her mom wants her to score perfect on the TOEFL (Test Of English as a Foreign Language) also known as the test whose score will determine whether second-language English speakers can qualify for North American Universities. She scored nearly perfect on the TOEIC (Test Of English for International Communication), which is business focussed, rather than academic, and will earn you a job, rather than a spot in a university.
The first day we met, Lisa (the younger sister) was going through a book, and we were reading about Camels, and talking about Kiwi, and the phrase "Kiwi the Camel" came up. We thought that would be a good name for a character in a children's story. We decided to write a story about Kiwi the Camel -- I said "If you write me a story about Kiwi the Camel, I'll write one for you."
Next time I saw them, Lisa (the seven year old) told me a short story. Sally gave me a five-page long first chapter for a book about Kiwi the Camel! I agreed to write the second chapter, she wrote the third, I wrote the fourth, and so we'll go until we finish the story. Sally's funny, bright, inquisitive, and she soaks up everything I can tell her, and teaches ME stuff on the way. She's one of the three coolest ten-year-olds I've ever met. Maybe the number one!
Her younger sister Lisa was the funniest little thing. Seven years old, she earned the nickname Giggles in no time, and made me laugh out loud. She also liked storytelling, and we'd get into silly little tangents about one thing and another, and she'd draw little pictures in her or get into teasing, tickling fights with her sister. I was utterly charmed. See the attached pictures of Sally and Lisa.
Then, last Tuesday, I went to a Sauna with Caleb, and when I came out, I had two missed calls from Sally. I called back, and her grandmother answered the phone, didn't speak English, so passed the phone to Sally.
"Hi Sally how are you?"
"Not so good."
"Oh. Well what's up?"
"Guess where Lisa went." (Sally always has a roundabout
way of giving news.)
"To Thailand?" (I always give silly answers first when Sally
says, "guess what?")
"This is serious, Rob." (That was when I noticed her sad, tired voice.)
"Is she OK? Did she go to the hospital?"
"Rob, there was an accident with a bus. Lisa went to heaven."
A seven-year-old I know got killed by a careless bus driver! The family is absolutely devastated. On Wednesday I arrived at their house at my usual time, armed with a present for Sally, a card, and a lot of spaghetti sauce, for days when they don't feel like cooking. Everybody looked pretty rough, Mom and sister especially. I'll go back again next Wednesday, and then the challenge is to figure out how much a goofy Canadian can do in this situation.
Because I'm older, and not a long-time acquaintance, it changes what I can and can't do, but I've been through the wringer of loss just recently, so at least I know what not to do, and I know how cloying it is when people say "I can help you." I guess I'll take most of my signals from Sally, and if she wants to talk, I'll do my best to listen kindly, and if she doesn't, I'll just be around, and be steady. Steady's nice, too.
It's sad that a kid as young as Sally has to go through such a loss, and even worse that a kid like Lisa can be taken away so young. The random, arbitrariness by which some people die young and other live out their lives, by which some people's lives are just loaded up with death and others never lose anybody (I knew a girl named Erin who lost her brothers to malaria at age 10, and lost her parents in a plane crash at age 20), makes it difficult to make any sense of things that happen. Maybe that's the idea -- maybe we aren't supposed to make sense of it. Maybe it's just too big, too mysterious for us to say anything about it at all. Maybe the thing we learn from most deaths is simply that everybody dies.
I have a friend who stopped believing in God not long ago, and she said the main difference in her life (other than her Sunday routine) is that now she's afraid of dying.
Another of my dear friends just found out her dear step-father has terminal cancer.
And I just can't think of anything else to say.
Anyway, that's what's been on my mind lately.
My father spent two days in the hospital: there was some bleeding somewhere in his body, but it's healed up. I hope he'll be OK.
Take care, everyone.
love: Rob
(look for cute student stories and Engrish follies below)
Between the hammers our heart
endures, just as the tongue does
between the teeth and, despite that,
still is able to praise.
-Rainer Maria Rilke-
Ninth Elegy
(here is the cute students section of the letter. I wanted
to put a clear break between this and the rest. I almost
wanted to put them in a separate e-mail)
"David, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"A scientist."
"What kind of scientist? An animal scientist? A rock
scientist? A dinosaur scientist?"
"I want to be a make yummy food and chocolate scientist."
"You want to be a food scientist."
"Yes. Food scientist."
"Well maybe you can give me some of your yummy food!"
"No teacher. You can buy in the store."
"My daddy has a Christmas car. It's a Santa Fe"
Ten plus five is fifteen. Ten plus six is sixteen. Ten plus Ryan is Ryanteen!
Instead of activity book, my kid said "Get out your captivity book." -- and he actually knew what captivity was! He made that joke on purpose!
I taught them "silly billy". Next time I was giving silly answers to questions instead of straight answers, my kid reprimanded me saying, "Teacher, don't say a billy silly!"
and my favorite wasn't from a student. It was at the Chinese Circus I saw in Shanghai. There were signs around the auditorium saying "please turn off your cellphone and don't bring bombs" (maybe they meant flashbulbs)
It made me laugh: why haven't US airlines thought of this? Just put up a sign and that'll end all danger on flights! You could put it next to the seatbelt sign and the "no smoking" sign that never turns off.
Imagine the dialogues.
Head Attendant: "Excuse me, sir, I'll have to ask you to
return to your chair and stop threatening the flight attendants.
You'll notice that the 'No Terrorism' light is still on in the cabin."
Terrorist: "Oh. Oops. My bad." (Returns to chair, embarrassed.)
Here are pictures of Sally, and Lisa, who was killed.
Since my last e-mail, things have been hectic, beginning with...
A trip to Shanghai -- fantastic city! Interesting regions, lots of french architecture, because it was originally built up by the
French. Huge difference between rich and poor there, but a fantastically engineered skyline and some really, really, really great food. Also, the internationals there (though maybe this was just because I moved around in the tourist areas) were a lot more varied than in Korea, it seemed. In Korea, most internationals are English speaking teachers or soldiers, or German-speaking tourists (to be really general). I heard snatches of all kinds of languages in Shanghai, and faces that looked like they came from all kinds of places.
My longtime coworker Heather had a baby! They're all healthy, and her husband Caleb Overstreet (you know him, Cheryl) is so cute when he talks about being a daddy. Suddenly he turned about five times softer and sweeter. My brother once told me about one of his friends seeing his first child for the first time, saying "a whole new section of my heart opened up", and I've seen Caleb change once that new section opened in his heart. It's amazing. It's difficult for me to wax eloquent about such a thing because I've only seen the effect and not experienced it, except to say that anybody I've ever asked about it (including a
brand-new grandfather) still steadfastly tells me that seeing your own kids for the first time is one of the most transformative events in your life. Maybe sometime I'll get a chance to experience that. (Now don't everybody think I'm dropping hints or fixing to settle down by that -- this is just to say that I've been seriously touched by this parenthood thing.) Having seen how parenthood (or coming parenthood) has changed a handful of my friends (and more every year), it's a beautiful thing, the way their roots suddenly, so effortlessly deepen, and their lives suddenly have another meaning added to it, and a meaning that comes completely out of love. It also helps me understand how some of the parents I deal with in the preschool have so little perspective on their kids -- "Well, he's really a good boy -- he just has a little problem hitting his classmates and stealing their toys and ripping pages out of books for attention and whining when he's punished -- but he has a sweet heart inside."
As Heather's due date approached, the doctor's order for her to stop teaching and rest added a whole new wrinkle to the whole
work situation. Our boss didn't manage to find a replacement on time, so first I had to teach overtime to fill in for some of her classes, and then the replacement he did find. . .
None of the teachers at the school got a good feeling about the e-mails she sent, but we didn't really do much about it at the time. Then, she arrived. Her name was Angi. She was older than the rest of us, and an extremely intense person. We'd have a beer together and she'd want to have more, go to another place, go to the clubbing district, and go until six AM. Somehow, every time she talked to my boss, it turned into a shouting, crying fit -- I've never seen a relationship get to explosive so quickly before. She made unreasonable demands that were outside the contract's parameters, she lost the receipt for her airplane ticket, when my boss had sent her money to buy it. If she didn't get what she wanted, right away, she'd blow up, and turn extremely rude. Meanwhile, she showed up late for work regularly, smoked in our building (which is against the law), and basically made the workplace very stressful.
She got herself fired in only three weeks, which is remarkable. Really remarkable. Considering how expensive it is to get a western teacher out to Korea, to have Mr. Kim willing to cut his losses and get her out of the school community after such a short time shows how negative her influence was on the school, in just about every way.
So, I was back to teaching overtime until we could find another replacement. Meanwhile, the school's new academic supervisor
had her first September, which is the beginning of a new semester, and she had to learn the ropes while juggling new classes, new books, and hundreds of phone calls from parents who wanted their kids in a higher level. As she was busy, she passed the SLP Speech Contest completely over to me. So, I was working overtime, organizing a schoolwide contest, and trying to hold together a preschool program with a new teacher, and a missing teacher. My roommate Antony was a champ for filling in for as long as he did, working twelve hour days without complaining. Finally, Lorraine came, and she's worked out really well, and my schedule, since the Speech Contest finished (on my birthday), has returned to normal just in time for next year's preschool recruiting season.
All that to say, I've been busy. It's been an adventurous time. Melissa, my old roommate, left, and her replacement is great. I like Amy quite a bit. We miss Melissa, of course, but Amy's nice too.
Since mid-August, if you asked me about my life, I'd tell you that I was too busy to do the things I loved in life.
Too busy to see friends, too busy to spend huge tracts of time alone in coffee shops, too busy to take long walks, do yoga, and write poetry.
Then I'd tell you about the bright spot in my life:
When Melissa left, she introduced me to a family she knew. The two daughters were Sally and Lisa, and Sally is a certifiable genius. She taught herself English, and now she speaks it, and writes it, better than most native speakers her age. She's nine, and she reads books written for 12-15 year-olds.
here's a video clip from a movie I saw (one of my favorites) about a Korean girl who signs up for English lessons. Sally
appears in it. Wait for the clip to upload, and then skip to about the 8:20 mark, and you can see her. The movie was made in 2003, so she's a bit older now, but you get the idea.
[the video has been taken down, due to copyright violations]
That's Sally saying "Your English is terrible."
She's sweet and smart and awesome. Her tutor is teaching her advanced writing -- formal writing in particular -- because her mom wants her to score perfect on the TOEFL (Test Of English as a Foreign Language) also known as the test whose score will determine whether second-language English speakers can qualify for North American Universities. She scored nearly perfect on the TOEIC (Test Of English for International Communication), which is business focussed, rather than academic, and will earn you a job, rather than a spot in a university.
The first day we met, Lisa (the younger sister) was going through a book, and we were reading about Camels, and talking about Kiwi, and the phrase "Kiwi the Camel" came up. We thought that would be a good name for a character in a children's story. We decided to write a story about Kiwi the Camel -- I said "If you write me a story about Kiwi the Camel, I'll write one for you."
Next time I saw them, Lisa (the seven year old) told me a short story. Sally gave me a five-page long first chapter for a book about Kiwi the Camel! I agreed to write the second chapter, she wrote the third, I wrote the fourth, and so we'll go until we finish the story. Sally's funny, bright, inquisitive, and she soaks up everything I can tell her, and teaches ME stuff on the way. She's one of the three coolest ten-year-olds I've ever met. Maybe the number one!
Her younger sister Lisa was the funniest little thing. Seven years old, she earned the nickname Giggles in no time, and made me laugh out loud. She also liked storytelling, and we'd get into silly little tangents about one thing and another, and she'd draw little pictures in her or get into teasing, tickling fights with her sister. I was utterly charmed. See the attached pictures of Sally and Lisa.
Then, last Tuesday, I went to a Sauna with Caleb, and when I came out, I had two missed calls from Sally. I called back, and her grandmother answered the phone, didn't speak English, so passed the phone to Sally.
"Hi Sally how are you?"
"Not so good."
"Oh. Well what's up?"
"Guess where Lisa went." (Sally always has a roundabout
way of giving news.)
"To Thailand?" (I always give silly answers first when Sally
says, "guess what?")
"This is serious, Rob." (That was when I noticed her sad, tired voice.)
"Is she OK? Did she go to the hospital?"
"Rob, there was an accident with a bus. Lisa went to heaven."
A seven-year-old I know got killed by a careless bus driver! The family is absolutely devastated. On Wednesday I arrived at their house at my usual time, armed with a present for Sally, a card, and a lot of spaghetti sauce, for days when they don't feel like cooking. Everybody looked pretty rough, Mom and sister especially. I'll go back again next Wednesday, and then the challenge is to figure out how much a goofy Canadian can do in this situation.
Because I'm older, and not a long-time acquaintance, it changes what I can and can't do, but I've been through the wringer of loss just recently, so at least I know what not to do, and I know how cloying it is when people say "I can help you." I guess I'll take most of my signals from Sally, and if she wants to talk, I'll do my best to listen kindly, and if she doesn't, I'll just be around, and be steady. Steady's nice, too.
It's sad that a kid as young as Sally has to go through such a loss, and even worse that a kid like Lisa can be taken away so young. The random, arbitrariness by which some people die young and other live out their lives, by which some people's lives are just loaded up with death and others never lose anybody (I knew a girl named Erin who lost her brothers to malaria at age 10, and lost her parents in a plane crash at age 20), makes it difficult to make any sense of things that happen. Maybe that's the idea -- maybe we aren't supposed to make sense of it. Maybe it's just too big, too mysterious for us to say anything about it at all. Maybe the thing we learn from most deaths is simply that everybody dies.
I have a friend who stopped believing in God not long ago, and she said the main difference in her life (other than her Sunday routine) is that now she's afraid of dying.
Another of my dear friends just found out her dear step-father has terminal cancer.
And I just can't think of anything else to say.
Anyway, that's what's been on my mind lately.
My father spent two days in the hospital: there was some bleeding somewhere in his body, but it's healed up. I hope he'll be OK.
Take care, everyone.
love: Rob
(look for cute student stories and Engrish follies below)
Between the hammers our heart
endures, just as the tongue does
between the teeth and, despite that,
still is able to praise.
-Rainer Maria Rilke-
Ninth Elegy
(here is the cute students section of the letter. I wanted
to put a clear break between this and the rest. I almost
wanted to put them in a separate e-mail)
"David, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"A scientist."
"What kind of scientist? An animal scientist? A rock
scientist? A dinosaur scientist?"
"I want to be a make yummy food and chocolate scientist."
"You want to be a food scientist."
"Yes. Food scientist."
"Well maybe you can give me some of your yummy food!"
"No teacher. You can buy in the store."
"My daddy has a Christmas car. It's a Santa Fe"
Ten plus five is fifteen. Ten plus six is sixteen. Ten plus Ryan is Ryanteen!
Instead of activity book, my kid said "Get out your captivity book." -- and he actually knew what captivity was! He made that joke on purpose!
I taught them "silly billy". Next time I was giving silly answers to questions instead of straight answers, my kid reprimanded me saying, "Teacher, don't say a billy silly!"
and my favorite wasn't from a student. It was at the Chinese Circus I saw in Shanghai. There were signs around the auditorium saying "please turn off your cellphone and don't bring bombs" (maybe they meant flashbulbs)
It made me laugh: why haven't US airlines thought of this? Just put up a sign and that'll end all danger on flights! You could put it next to the seatbelt sign and the "no smoking" sign that never turns off.
Imagine the dialogues.
Head Attendant: "Excuse me, sir, I'll have to ask you to
return to your chair and stop threatening the flight attendants.
You'll notice that the 'No Terrorism' light is still on in the cabin."
Terrorist: "Oh. Oops. My bad." (Returns to chair, embarrassed.)
Here are pictures of Sally, and Lisa, who was killed.
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