Last weekend, us girls headed west to Ganghwa Island for a weekend of grilling, seaside gazing, raw fish eating, noraebong belting, and attempted hiking. It was refreshing, it was peaceful, it was great to be with the girls, and it was a seriously sweet little corner of Korea. See my full album here.
The ocean.
Natalie, Joy, Amanda, Mary Soo, and me.
We spent the afternoon walking along the ocean.
We were right in the middle of the Korean countrside.
I was writing a post for our Adventure Teaching blog today, and I thought I'd share it on mine as well.
A couple of weeks ago, we were strolling through the shops of Insadong when we stumbled down a small alley and came across a small place called ‘The Old Tea Shop.’ We made our way up the winding staircase (possibly the creakiest little staircase I’ve ever walked up), and entered into a haven of tea and birds. Yes, birds! This little tea shop is filled with the aroma of wonderful tea, antique furniture, and the sounds of birds chirping from every corner.
I’ve really never experienced anything like it. I was so mesmerized by the countless little colorful birds flying around the shop, resting on the windowsill, and proudly parading little strands of toilet paper to their secret hiding places, that I nearly forgot to order my tea. I’m glad I didn’t! I ordered the Quince, which was wonderfully sweet, citrus, and refreshing. Ali got the Jujube, which was strong and bitter and definitely not for the faint of heart! They had an extensive tea menu (almost as extensive as their collection of birds!) and it all seemed to be made with love and care.
The whole shop, from the birds to the antique rickety wooden benches, is glowing with vibrancy and eccentricity. As the sun warmed us while we drank our tea and the birds commanded the room with their incessant chirping, I looked out as the light was hitting the old Korean rooftops and thought... “Now this is Korea.”
I don't think there's anything more awkward and unnatural than trying to teach while a group of 'observers' watch your every move taking notes. One of the many privileges (because there's so many...ha!) of being the head branch of a 40 school franchise is all of the many schools that come watch our classes with the hopes of learning how to teach the curriculum. It. Sucks. They sit in the back of the classroom staring at me the entire time. Meanwhile, I'm trying to act 'normal' and 'natural' which, let's face it, just doesn't happen when other teachers are observing everything you do.
Here's what a normal class for me looks like: I spend a good chunk of it yelling and using fear as a tactic of discipline (you're not allowed to judge until you try to put on a play with a class of 4 year olds who don't speak your language), and using bribery in the form of stickers to get kids to do what I say. These sorts of things just don't fly when teachers have flown all the way from the south coast of Korea to get useful teaching tips.
This, along with the non-stop video taping of classes (which are then uploaded to the website and has in turn made me famous in the world of Feinschule) has really turned me into a much less effective teacher. How am I supposed to get kids to learn when I can't yell and give them the glare of death when they aren't listening?
Nothing starts my day off like the moment I turn onto the little side street that my school lies on, and I hear, yelled from the sidewalk..."Good morning, Seoul!" Never fails. Every morning. The source is a jolly old Korean man, in a bright yellow vest, riding his bike on the small side street back and forth all day, giving out parking tickets. I'm pretty sure that the "Good morning, Seoul" comes from a radio show he hears in the morning, because he doesn't really seem to understand that the 'Seoul' part doesn't work with people. He makes me laugh every morning. I've now also started saying, "Have a good night!" at the end of the day on my way home, which he now says to me as well...usually in the morning.
Last weekend, a bunch of us went bungee jumping and paintballing, all in one day. I had already done the bungee jump, so I geared myself up for my first ever paintballing experience. It was in the woods. It was intense, colorful, and competitive--what could be better? (Winning could be better--we lost 4 out of 5 games...) I still have the memory etched into my brain and the bruises etched into my skin. Fortunately, the shot that nailed me in the face, somehow managing to hit the only spot on my face slightly uncovered by the mask, didn't leave a welt.
This video nearly made me pee my pants. Watch it. Then watch it again. Then spend your entire Thursday night watching it over and over, laughing equally hard each time, like I did.
Anytime I take a little blogging hiatus, I have such a hard time jumping back in. But what else if there to do, other than to jump. So here I go.
Spring is finally here, just barely. It’s not exactly ‘pack away your coats and socks’ weather, but there’s definitely hints of life around—both in nature and in people’s spirits. The other day, I went running around lake park and was very carefully scrutinizing every branch and square inch of earth for signs of green. Or any color for that matter. It seems to be coming a lot slower than I remember from living here a couple of years ago…
Things have been a little rough here the past while as I’ve been battling with upcoming decisions and figuring out, YET AGAIN, what we’re going to do next. I was accepted into grad school at Columbia College in Chicago (I’m going back for a Master in Arts Adminstration), which has led Ali and I to be forced with the very dreaded and avoided process of making another decision about our futures. I’ve been in Korea for a month short of a year already, and was supposed to be ending my contract at the end of May. But with my school closing right before Christmas and me frantically and necessarily finding a new job, my contract now ends next Christmas. So unless I want to break that and unless Ali and I are actually going to figure something out and be ready to live in Chicago in 4 months, I think grad school in the fall is something I just need to put out of my mind for now. I just don’t think it’s gonna happen. Lately, I’ve been reminded of how vulnerable our situation is. Korea is like this happy little bubble, where you so easily forget what things are like in the real world. We’re now looking at a program in Brisbane Australia and the Queensland University of Technology, where we could both get a Master in our individual artistic fields. But as with EVERYTHING, it’s not just as easy as it seems. I’m now working on hiring an evaluation service so that we can ensure this masters degree is the equivalent of a masters degree back home. What’s the point of moving half way across the world for a degree that means nothing where we actually want to live?
I love traveling. I love adventure. I love new things and new places. But I would also, so so so love to have some roots and something not so…temporary. But I suppose this is what your 20s are for. (I think Carrie Bradshaw said something like that…)
Last weekend, us girls headed west to Ganghwa Island for a weekend of grilling, seaside gazing, raw fish eating, noraebong belting, and attempted hiking. It was refreshing, it was peaceful, it was great to be with the girls, and it was a seriously sweet little corner of Korea. See my full album here.
