The Escape Part II

And now...the REST of the story:

Simultaneously with all of this hooplah, fair and decent reader, I was being groomed, nay...even courted, by the job which had started this whole fiasco ages ago. The first time I'd even thought of going overseas, a friend of a friend (KaRyn, friend of Jon), suggested that I apply to take the position she was leaving.

"Where is this job?" I asked.

"In South Korea," said she.

"That sounds dirty and possibly behutted," said I.

"And stinky," she thought to herself, but instead offered the four and a half most intriguing words a freshly graduated wanderer can hear:

You'll. Make. Good. Money.

I saw dollar signs, mostly because I didn't know what the currency was in Korea. Rupees? Yen? Tourquoise agates?

However, when the time came down the road to connect with KaRyn (emphasis on the RYN, thank you) it turned out that she'd decided to re-up on her contract and so I was left to my own devices, scouring the internet for a free ticket out of the Home of the Brave.





Here, you look hungry, famished reader. Have yourself a Coke zero and a bag of Doritos, to ease any emotional distress you may be feeling.










T I M E P A S S E S

Once I saw things at the i-Sponge taking an El Nose-o Dive-o (Spanish for "nose dive", proud Latino readers) I quickly went in search of alternatives. KaRyn, now nearing the end of her contract, began to drop hints which, like good underwear, were gentle but firm.

The new job was far more intriguing. An American system school where the teachers and the principal have the power, not the mothers. Where the children learn to speak and listen before they learn to read and write (just like real life!). This is a land where English is not taught explicitly but via content-based curricula: Art, Drama, Language Arts. And it's ALL. IN. ENGLISH.

You should know, ye readers of the arched supercilius, that the speaking of Korean is not villified, but honored and accepted as an important part of the children's lives. The classes are disciplined with clear behavioral methods. The school serves the child, the whole child, rather than its own money-grubbing agenda and desperate, melodramatic mommies. The principal is very available, affable and always has amazing suggestions and insight into dealing with children and understands the difficulties of getting a six-year-old boy to just sit the hell down and shut the hell up while you're trying to give him the Judas-priesting lesson that you spent all rassafrassin' morning planning. And he's gonna like it. And sit nicely.

Or risk certain death/dismemberment.

The transition was only slightly awkward. I had to stay for two weeks in the basement mews of my principal's palatial residence. It was glorious and tiny. But I loved it. I took me a trip to Japan to get a new visa (it was forfeit once I left my old job) and witnessed me some sights and breathed me some clean air before coming on back to the land of constant nasal offenses.

A week later, I moved out. It strikes me that I've spent a considerable amount of my life moving in and out of basements.

Weird.

Like the other job, I was worried for the entire first month here at "Creativity School" that I would be fired. As you can imagine, this resulted in a goodly amount of swamp ass. But after time, I saw that was not how things work here. Teaching is also seen as a learning process here and the teachers are not expected to do anything other than work hard and do their best with what they've got.

Here, settled into the daily routine, I am constantly encouraged, uplifted and supported by those around me. When I have a problem, I have people to go to. When I need to punish a child, I can (and do, you'd better believe). When mommies come to the school, I rarely see them.

It isn't bliss, fair reader. It's often arduous and trying. But there's so much I want to do and so much I am now doing that it boggles the mind.

Needless to say, I am happier here at 창의 학교.

I love hearing from you all and hope that this blog finds you healthy and happy.

Best,

Geoffwah