This is my Kindergarten Christmas Play and yes, I realize those are not really Transformers costumes but we did the best we could

A Transformers Christmas Carol
Adapted by Matt
Based on the works of Charles Dickens and Hasbro.

Characters:
Scrooge: A mean old man who only cares about building robots and making money
Cratchet: Scrooge’s poor computer engineer and a single father
Tiny Tim: Cratchet’s son. He has a handicapped leg and walks with a crutch
Transformer of Christmas Past: A fun and kind Transformer
Transformer of Christmas Present: A sweet and loving Transformer
Transformer of Christmas Future: A wise mysterious Transformer

Setting:
Seoul, the year 2112

Scrooge sits at his desk writing. Cratchet sits at a computer typing and shivering. The three Transformer are lying on a table.

Scrooge: Hurry up Cratchet! We need to finish these robots by tomorrow.

Cratchet: I’m sorry Mr. Scrooge. It’s so cold in here my fingers can barely type.

Scrooge: You want me to waste money on heating? If you want it hot, go to Jeju-do!

Cratchet: But Mr. Scrooge, I never get a vacation.

Tiny Tim enters

Tiny Tim: Daddy! Merry Christmas Mr. Scrooge. Can you come home for dinner?

Cratchet: I have so much work to do.

Tiny Tim: But daddy, it is Christmas! Mr. Scrooge is so mean to make you work so late.

Cratchet: Tiny Tim, I am lucky to have a job in this tough economy. I will see you later tonight.

Tiny Tim leaves

Scrooge: So I suppose you want to leave early?

Cratchet: Oh please Mr. Scrooge!

Scrooge: NO! Get back to work.

After a moment the Transformers rise from the table

T-Past: Scrooge does not remember the true meaning of Christmas

T-Present: The Cratchet family knows what Christmas is really about.

T-Future: Scrooge will be sorry if he doesn’t change his ways.

T-Past: Look, they are almost finished with their work.

T-Present: Mr. Cratchet is leaving the factory.

T-Future: Scrooge is getting ready to go to sleep. He only cares for his work. Look how he sleeps on his desk.

As they say these things, Cratchet leaves and Scrooge curls up and goes to sleep on his desk

T-Past walks over to Scrooge. The other two Transformers leave.

T-Past: Wake up Mr. Scrooge!

Scrooge: What? Why are you still turned on?

T-Past: Mr. Scrooge, I am the Transfomer of Christmas Past. You have forgotten how important Christmas used to be to you. Look into the past…

A puppet show begins. As T-Past and Scrooge speak the puppets act out the scene.

Scrooge: Look, it’s me as a boy.

T-Past: Yes, you weren’t always so old and mean. This Christmas long ago saw you having fun.

Scrooge: I’m dancing. I look so happy.

T-Past: You were happy. You had friends because you were kind and gentle. What happened to you Mr. Scrooge?

Scrooge: I got serious. I started my own robot factory.

T-Past: But look at what you lost. Is it possible, Mr. Scrooge, to work hard without driving away everyone who ever cared about you?

Scrooge: I- I- I don’t know.

T-Past: Think about it Mr. Scrooge… Think about it…

Scrooge watches as the puppet friends slowly leave the puppet Scrooge. T-Past leaves and T-Present approaches him

T-Present: Merry Christmas Mr. Scrooge.

Scrooge: Did I leave another of you turned on?

T-Present: I am the Transformer of Christmas Present.

Scrooge: It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a Christmas present.

T-Present: The real Christmas present isn’t something that comes from a store Mr. Scrooge. It is something that comes from the heart. Look in on your computer engineer Cratchet and his family…

The Cratchets come out. They do not see or hear Scrooge and the Transformer.

Tiny Tim: Daddy, what a delicious Christmas pigeon you cooked!

Cratchet: Thank you Tiny Tim. We are lucky. Many families cannot afford Christmas dinner. We should be truly thankful for Mr. Scrooge and his kindness.

Scrooge: But I’m never kind to Cratchet!

T-Present: Perhaps to see kindness in others, one must have kindness in their own heart.

Tiny Tim: I love you Father.

T-Present: The Cratchets are poor yes, but they are rich in love. Something you should learn.

Scrooge: This is making me sad. I feel so ashamed.

T-Present: Think about it Mr. Scrooge… Think about it.

T-Present and the Cratchets leave. T-Future approaches Scrooge.

T-Future: Mr. Scrooge, I am the Transformer of Christmas Future.

Scrooge: No. No more. I can’t be reminded of how terrible I am.

T-Future: I am not here to remind you of anything Mr. Scrooge. I am here to give you a warning. Look before you…

Another puppet show has started. Old Scrooge puppet is alone while lots of friends all around are dancing and playing.

T-Future: You still have your work, you do not think you need friends, but one day you will have to retire. Without your factory to keep you busy, the loneliness will be terrible.

Scrooge: No, please no.

T-Future: Change your ways Mr. Scrooge, you can choose to keep your cruel ways and be alone, or you can choose to open your heart to the Christmas spirit.

Scrooge: I want to change, I want to change!

T-Future: Think about it Mr. Scrooge… Think about it.

Scrooge leaves the stage. The Cratchets enter.

Cratchet: Merry Christmas Tiny Tim

Tiny Tim: Oh boy, Christmas morning. Do I get any presents?

Cratchet: Well… no, I’m sorry Tiny Tim. We do not have any money.

Tiny Tim: It’s ok Dad. I’m just happy to have a day with you.

Scrooge enters with the three transformers carrying presents and food.

Scrooge: Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas!

Cratchet: Mr. Scrooge?

Tiny Tim: Transformers?

Scrooge: Here Tiny Tim, these presents are for you. Cratchet, I have something special for you…

Cratchet: What happened sir? Why all of this?

Scrooge: Let’s just say that my attitude about Christmas has transformed. I want you to take a 2 week vacation with your boy to Jeju-do, I’ll pay for the whole thing!

Cratchet: Wow Mr. Scrooge, I guess there’s more to you than meets the eye.

Scrooge: Transformers, roll out. And Merry Christmas!

Tiny Tim: God bless us, every one!

Kids Say The Darkest Things

Today was Double Dark. The Topic? Suicide.

I was playing a joyous pop song for the first graders, rife with rich vocal harmonies and catchy instrumental hooks. One kids raises his hand and says "Teacher, this is the music that people will kill themselves." And another kid raises his hand and adds "This music makes a person aim the gun at their head and kill themself."

Even worse, earlier today my Kindergartners were leaving the church where we were rehearsing for the Christmas Play (more on this to come) when we passed a wedding decoration display. I asked one Kindy boy if he wants to get married one day. He says no and I say sure, it's a long time off. And then he says "I think when I grow up I will buy a knife and cut my throat."

After thinking about this for awhile, I think the kids in both situations might have been trying to use English idiom. You know, the way we'd say "I'd rather kill myself than sit through another Twilight movie." Kids hear a lot of expressions and don't always use them correctly.

Teacher, that is a good drawing of a flying ham

I have this running gag with one of my first grade classes. When I draw a picture on the board, they say in unison "Teacher, that is a terrible drawing." It's adorable and gives them a nice, safe way to lash out at an authority figure. Also, my drawings are terrible. For some reason today I was drawing a propeller and a jet engine. "Teacher that is a terrible drawing." Then this one kid says, and I'm sure he put a moment into constructing this sentence, "Teacher, that is a terrible drawing of a jet engine but a good drawing of a flying ham."

Also, this afternoon in another class I was helping somebody with something and another student raises her hand and asks what "so shitty" means. And I was like "What?" and she was like "So shitty, teacher? What that mean?" And I looked in her book and the word was "society" and you know, given all the weird special cases that exist in English pronunciation, I think she gave it a really good try.

Blogue Post the 34th: In Which I Have a Surreal Experience At a Dermatology Clinic

This weekend I went to a doctor to see about having a mole removed. A Korean friend helped check me in and explained to the receptionists what I wanted done. No one there spoke more than two words of English and I'll get to those...

The clinic looked like a posh coffee shop, with booths and couches instead of the more traditional waiting-room arrangement. American dance pop was playing on the speakers and the receptionists, all very attractive Korean women dressed in suits, wore earpiece monitors. They were the secret service of skin care. There was also a large case of a Korean energy drink called Baccus-D on a counter next to a mini-fridge stocked completely with Baccus-D.

While I waited for something to happen (my Korean language connection having departed) a terrified woman emerged from the back area. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. Then one of the secret service girls came over and from my limited ability to evesdrop, I deduced the woman had just gotten Botox.

Eventually I was taken into the back and put into an operating area. It was nowhere near as opulent as the lobby. In fact I think they decided to proceed on me in a storage room. Like, while things were going on, a nurse came into my room, stepped around other people to get to a fridge, and used a comically huge pair of horse-dentistry looking tongs to procure a canister of liquid nitrogen.

While I waited to be proceeded upon, three nurses busied around the room engaged in some kind of competence shock and awe campaign. They were readying needles and pads and God knows what else with no apparent idea of their function, just dropping shit on the floor and giggling. My confidence in this place was being badly shaken. Also, multiple types of medical thingies were stored in empty Baccus-D cases.

Then the doctor comes in and wheels over this black machine that looks like a cross between a shop-vac and the thing that the bad guys use to tortue Han Solo. He looks me in the eye and says "No pain." I didn't know if it was a question or a statement or a challenge to my manhood or what. I did what, in retrospect, I believe was the right thing to do. "No pain" I said back to him.

Then the procedure proceeded. A mole was removed. There was no pain. I'm pretty sure lasers were involved. Afterward I said to the doctor "No pain" and he smiled and I smiled back. It took four receptionists to explain what to do with the skin cream I was given and see me out the door.

Quantum Parenting

This morning I proctored my kindergarteners' first Benchmark Exam. This test determines what level class they'll find themselves in come first grade time. They took it about as seriously as you'd expect. I don't like administering tests to kids that young, it's quite frustrating. Our material is designed for native tongue English speakers, so the tests can be a little loose tossing out new vocab. When I can't tell a kid that "perhaps" is a way of saying "maybe", a man has thoughts and feelings.

I came up with a theory today which explains why parents can be so concerned about their kids. It helps if you're familiar with Schrodinger's Cat. If you're a parent and it occurs to you that while walking home from school your kid might get hit by a car, then until the kid gets home safely, they have been hit by that car. Any marginally rational fear is magnified by the inabilty to verify. Until little Billy gets home from prom, he has simultaneously gotten someone pregnant, smoked the devil's weed, fought a priest, died, robbed a bank, and been found guilty of treason by a secret military tribunal.

I apologize for the thought experiment, by when you're sitting helplessly by watching six year olds take a test which their parents have told them determines their entire futures, you start thinking.

Korean First Graders Review Animal Collective

One of my favorite bands, Animal Collective, just released a new song called "Graze" (it's the first one). I decided to use it as a prompt for some creative writing with my first graders. One of my goals in teaching writing is to break away from simple recall and respond and encourage kids to explore the abstract. You know, writing can be fun. The following is a collection of unedited exerpts from their work. I recommend you listen to the song while reading these.

Place where aladin lives. One man lose and he live in a street.

I feel like looking at stars in the night skys. It's about the sad feeling. They're climbing the ladder. It's like I'm flying in a night sky. It's like starts are saying things to me. It's like a mario song. It's like a UFO gliding through the sky.

It takes to the rainforest. There have many birds that are flying. It feels sleepy. The sound likes dreamy.

Like playing a flute, playing magic! End getting smaller and smaller.

Not stinky, the air smell. happy and so clear. First was small, big, more bigger, bigger, and biggest sound. It will be fun to hear and see the pictures in my mind or in my brain.

Christmas is cold. cave is dark. Love with hurt. Monster is singing. Kids whispering in the park. Sky is dancing. Aladin is walk with the princess. moving (singing). tamburing is moving.

Music is so wonderful and sad that I think the tears roll down my face. It beats correct. It feels like indians jumping in the Jungle. This song will make 10 people dance.

It was comfortable. I want to sleep more than 2 or 3 hour ago. It is keep on funny.

It feels like first, sad party, but the second party is funny song.

Cool, super. Fantastic dum. Flute, clapper. Ack-key. Like slained wiggle. bump tast.

Warm, cool, Blue, Red, Green, Pink. Giggle, bump.

Things what I feel like: rocks, sand, sad nearvous, happy, runs. It feels like I'm playing a flute in the band and go to a fair and I'm playing all day and dancing.

It feels like kind of cheerful song. It suggested character. It's voice is like slow. I feel shrimp jumping. I feel train chu-chu.

Do you want to ask me what I can feel in this song? First, I feel floating sailboats. Second I feel beating drumbs. Third, lying on the beach. Fourth, splashing waves. Fifth, sitting comfortably. Sixth, listning sounds. Seventh, listning Jazz. Eight, Being in the parade. I will be happy to show it to you. The End.

I get the Ball Rolling

Last weekend I went to a truly special museum. Housed in the basement of the War Memorial Museum is Rolling Ball. When my buddy and I went to buy tickets, the lady at the counter looked at us quizzically. "It's a kids' museum..." We knew.

Rolling Ball is a collection of Rube Goldberg type kinetic contraptions all of which involve marbles and spheres larger navigating a series of twists and turns. Track switches, jumps, secret turn-arounds, loops of the loop... It's amazing! These are the kind of pieces of Art I hope to one day collect. Most of those we liked were credited to Swiss-German named Deidre. Make what assumptions you will.

A good two hours there made for one of the most fun times I've had out in Seoul. And no poker was involved!

On another topic, today I prepared three 4th grade Korean guys for a future in drunken Karaoke glory. Frequent readers will recall I use song analysis as a way to explore literary device. Last week we listened to U2's Sunday Bloody Sunday. Today they wanted to hear it again. I obliged and was treated to the three dude singing along. When they inevitably go to the states to study abroad, they will find themselves in a karaoke bar and the seed that I have planted will burst fourth into magnificent tree of attention-getting. Also, it was just damn cool to see Korean kids diggin' on good music.

This weekend I am finally going into Itaewon, the part of Seoul where a tall awkward American-shaped man can apparently find clothes that fit. A winter coat is my goal. Wish me luck.

Down with the Sickness: A Cold Halloween Weekend

Today all my children are wearing Swine Flu proof face masks. These come from the same school of engineering that brought us the Nuclear Bomb proof school desks in the '50s.

Speaking of masks, last Friday was the school Halloween party. I was completely overwhelmed by the cuteness. There were a huge number of princesses with fairy and elemental variations. Amongst the boys Power Rangers and Harry Potters reigned supreme. In the costume contest the winning Pre-Schooler was dressed in a huge tiger costume and carried a golf club. Can anyone guess? I have a feeling his family helped him with that one, but he might just be incredibly clever.

Later that night I went out to an early Halloween party for grown-ups (it was the 30th). Myself and the other English teachers were the only people in costumes. I think it might have been an early Halloween party of our own invention. Standing out on the street I was approached by a group of three middle aged Korean men. They were patent attorneys for LG telecom and complimented my costume. I was dressed as Agent Smith from The Matrix. They told me that I was more handsome than Agent Smith in the film and that I was also more handsome than Keanu Reeves. I'm not sure why they had to drag poor Keanu into the discussion, but I felt flattered nonetheless.

Also, while out that night, I spoke French with a Korean woman. She spoke about as much French as she did English and I speak way more French than Korean, so our conversation, while charming, would have probably given a professional subtitler an anxiety attack.

The weather has gotten cold which makes for more runny noses than ever before. This only increases fear of the Dread H1N1. We are being asked to wear masks ourselves while in class. This causes my glasses to fog up as I breathe. This is like teaching English to a dish washer that just finished its cycle. If I catch the Swine Flu, for real, y'all will be the first to know.

A Taste of Kindergarten

Today I have for you a selection of writing samples from my kindergartners replete with my comments.

Regarding Abraham Lincoln:

"Then he proved that salvery was wrong. Many people agreed. So the long time of Slavery led down the curtain."

I love when kids attempt turns of phrase. Not perfectly executed, but ambitious. This kid closes their story about reading a book about Lincoln with this gem:

"I have to read books and study and block the war when it happens."

That is intense! I wonder if the mom is like Sarah Connor.

One student began a fairy tale with:

"Once upon a time, when tigers smoked..."

This has a terrific cadence for oral storytelling. Also, given that the only tigers left on the Korean peninsula are probably hiding in the DMZ, the thought that they once lazed around smoking really puts it back in the day.

One child recounts what was hopefully a dream:

"After I ride the roller coaster my mom get a strong steel broomstick......AND PUNCH WITH HER ALL ALL POWER!!"

Several kids have been riffing lately about how their moms chase after them with broomsticks. This example is special because, like the earlier sample, the writer is forming sentences in ways they've probably heard in giant robot movies.

Finally, in an illustration, a kid draws a surprised character uttering this tidbit, which may suggest God's mighty radius or possibly kitchen appliances:

"Oh my gosh range!"

Theatre Arts Class Is Dangerous

My theatre class has now met twice. I have a group of typically smart Korean students ranging from eight to ten years of age. I think we have the potential to do some amazing work together, if we don't all get killed in the process.

Why, you might ask, is teaching kids acting skills dangerous? Is it the lethality of accent from the Korean-British kid? Is it the hazardous chirping of one student's pet crickets? Is is the poisonous miasma of recently turned on heater air? No, although the kid with the Korean-British accent is dangerously awesome to listen to. What is going to get us all killed is Dire Straits.

A challenge in teaching acting to kids is getting them comfortable taking risks in front of their peers. It's intimidating to speak in front of a group, let alone emote. We did a movement exercise intended to help the students break from their (and find new) comfort zones. I played different sorts of music and we explored the space, responding to the tracks.

To Beck's "Devil's Haircut" we sauntered around throwing cool-guy looks at one another.

To The White Stripes' "Icky Thump" they took turns marching toward me with anger.

To Bjork's "It's Oh So Quiet" we played with physical dynamics, going from a sober waltz to a leaping blitzkrieg.

Then I played Dire Straits' "Walk of Life". We were walking in a big circle, taking turns being the leader and leading the feeling of the walk. I don't know if it's the cheesy synth line or the "do-see-do" hayride feeling of the melody but the kids went ballistic. They responded more violently to "Walk of Life" than to "Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin, which is like saying that Gene Autry could better raze a village than Eric the Red. Gene Autry with a neon headband! And yet...

No one was seriously hurt, but I was definitely prompted to give a lecture on maintaining control. Especially since our next lesson is gonna be on stage combat! (cue malicious laughter)

Also, everything I wrote in this post is true.

A Day In The City: Verbing Nouns

Seoul is a really really big city. Last weekend I went journeying toward two specific sites: A gigantic tech mall and what is supposedly one of the swankiest saunas around. Luckily both these places are within a Pocari can's throw of the same subway stop, Yansong.

Exiting the station itself was an ordeal, as the tracks spit you right out onto the first floor of a gigantic shopping complex. The tech mall itself was six floors of every imaginable brand name and product under the sun. One entire floor was dedicated to music instruments and recording equipment. I spent half an hour fiddling with an MPC 5000 trying to simultaneously play all the parts to "Under Pressure" with my two pointer fingers.

From the top floor I could see a lit-up courtyard where a break-dance competition was probably taking place. I say probably because, as usual, I have no idea what is going on at least half the time. I could have been watching a modern treatment of Westside Story or possibly some kind of religious ceremony. For all I know, these young men could have been telling jokes in pantomime to hip-hop music. Actually, I think that will serve as my standing definition for all dancing.

Next to the mall is Dragon Hill Spa which lived up to its reputation for being awesome. Of all the cool stuff there however, the coolest was the name of the place itself. Sure, there was a Himalayan Pink Rock Salt Kiln, an Ocher Chamber of the Training of the Mind, and a supervillain-esque Ice Palace, and all sorts of other rooms of relaxation. However Dragon Hill's name out on its sign is spelled using "Konglish". This is a wonderfully curious method of using Korea's hangul lettering system to phonetically spell English words. So Dragon Hill was "DRA GON HI RU". It's like using finger paints to describe the scent of cinnamon. This is how I'm gonna learn the Korean alphabet, by sounding out the extra value meals at "MAK DON ER UDS".

A Korean First Grader Says Something Profound And Disturbing

In a reading and writing class we were discussing the lessons and morals that some stories attempt to teach us. We'd just finished the story of a dinosaur who, too big for the cave, is kicked out by his caveman family, only to later rescue them from an erupting volcano. We concluded that the lesson was that even a troublesome friend can help. This led into a nice discussion about the nature of friendship and getting past the bad in order to appreciate the good. I asked the students, could they think of a story with a troublesome friend who in the end helps us? I prompted them again, can we think of a character who is difficult to get along with but is still our friend?

This is when a kid raises his hand and says "God".

Good News and Funny Things

Today it was made official official. My school will be adding a Theatre Arts class that I wrote to the curriculum. Myself and another teacher will be working with a group of ten first through third graders each on a number of awesome units. Voice and diction for the actor, movement on stage, scenes, characters, improv, and more. All leading up to a Showcase for the parents which is sure to be a blast. I am very excited.

Here are a few dialogues from students which I'd like to share...

Kindergartner: At my grandma's house over the weekend I was telling them about my story and then when my mouth was open my dad put a yucky blucky food in it so I went to the toilet and wacked it up. I wacked it all up but there was a poop in the toilet already! So I wacked it all over the poop and then there was poop and wack in the toilet.

Then there's this amazing pause while I think about how this kid must have heard the slang "yak it up" in a movie or something and gotten it confused. And then...

Another kindergartner: Whenever I fly in an airplane, I always wack it.


Another memorable moment came when a kindergartner boy was talking about a girl in the class...

Kindergartner: When she tells someone, who is a boy, that she doesn't like them, she breaks hearts.

Man, this kid has got it figured out. A line like that is beautiful and universal in its simplicity. These young Korean kids are brilliant and hilarious. I can't wait to start teaching them improv comedy...

Return of the Kings: Walker Hill $10,000 Tournament

Last weekend I went back to Walker Hill for the big tournament which I had won my way into by flexing serious Texas Hold'em skills. Funny thing is, I actually suck and proved this at the very first table of the tournament. After winning four hands in a row I foolishly went all in against a wily old Chinese gentleman who made two pair on the river. It was just too early in the day to make that kind of move. So I was out after playing for less than half an hour. A man had feelings, so I went into a gambling fugue and played roulette for, like, ten hours. I ended up about 40 bucks up when I emerged from the fugue. So it was a pretty good fugue overall. I believe I ate some Korean food during this period and I definitely went to a bathroom that looked like the escape pod from an art deco space station.

This week has been short because Chuseok is upon us. A sort of Korean Thanksgiving, Chuseok gets me a Friday off and sees many Korean children coming to school in traditional Hanbok, or awesome gowns. Some are rather traditional while others make the child look like the patron saint of '80s neon. Gifts have been prevalent: I am up two pens, a bouquet of flowers, aftershave, and a bottle of wine. I gave my kindergartners a bunch of colored pencils which have rainbow graphite (!) and my Korean teachers got pears. Everybody likes pears, right? They were Asian pears in fact, and I didn't mean anything by that choice. Asian pears just happen to be the most delicious.

Happy Chuseok!

My students are brilliant and hilarious

Two things happened at school today.

My kindergarten class has been taking note of the sunrise and sunset times over the last month. Then at the recommendation of an engineer friend of mine, I had the seven year olds plot the declining amount of daylight on a graph. Yes. Then we predicted when the sun would set next week.

In a first grade class:

Me: So how else are ants like people?

Student: They both have babies in eggs.

Me: People do not have babies in eggs.

Another student: Edison! Edison! Thomas Edison was born in an egg!

Then I laugh hysterically for about a minute. And then:

Me: Thomas Edison was not born from an egg.

Then another pause...

Yet another student: A lot of Koreans are born from eggs.

A man has feelings

Three recent things that created in me an emotional reaction. Two of these three things were plays. These had subtitles while the third thing involved a translator.

I saw the traveling Broadway production of Rent in Seoul and it was amazing. The cast was great and the music was soaring. I was totally swept up in the joy and sorrow of the show and got to see a bunch of Korean people cheering for two black guys making out. The show had subtitles projected on big screens on both sides of the stage and it was of great interest to me which words in English the subtitlers thought Koreans would understand. "Sexy", "hot", and "sweat" all made the cut.

I saw another play in Seoul called Pleasant Hotel. This was a Korean show, in Korean, about the "comfort women" during the Japanese occupation. This was powerful drama and it illuminated for me a history of which I was mostly unaware. Thank goodness for the subtitles in English. Awesome performances by the four women who portrayed different responses to forced prostitution. One of those shows you walk out of and have nothing to say. Just thoughts and feelings.

Finally last week we had parent/teaching conferences. I had heard a lot about how involved Korean parents are in their kids' educations, but meeting and discussing in person was incredible. Now that I'm writing this, it's hard to explain why exactly this experience was so affecting, but by the end of it I was the happiest I've been since coming here. I felt affirmed in everything I am doing and the reasons I'm doing it for.

Observations on traffic

Driving here is dangerous to think about. While I haven't seen any accidents during my two months in Korea, I have imagined dozens. People drive here with an aggression I stereotype Californians as possessing. I've been on a bus that was simultaneously occupying 4 lanes of traffic. That made for scary thoughts.

Last weekend I stayed out too late in Seoul and found that the subways stop running at midnight. This seems ridiculous in a country that so into partying. Whatever the case, I was faced with the need to get home and this meant I'd be biting the bullet and taking a cab all the way back to Anyang. This was the longest I'd spent in a taxi cab and I don't think I ever want to do it again. Either I go home before midnight or I crash wherever I'm at. I am like Cinderella.

I was really lucky because my taxi driver was an escaped convict who spent his time in prison studying Nascar crashes. He drove dual-footed, alternating between gas and brake at about the same pace Neil Peart goes between the snare and kick drum. The goal of driving is apparently to take up the slack between you and the car in front as quickly as possible. This also applies when approaching a red light.

The funny thing was when a mini-van attempted a rather aggressive passing/cutting-off maneuver which prompted my driver and all other taxi men on the road to start honking vigorously. No one rolls like a cab unless you're a cab, word is bond.

I also recently passed by some couch sections and office furniture on the side of the road. My buddy and I considered this a sign and so we loaded a loveseat onto two rolling chairs and proceeded to ferry it back to my apartment. This was definitely a strange sight for passers-by, enhanced by our curious appearance. Yeah, two white guys stand out here. Plus we were awkwardly manhandling furniture down the street. Plus I am tall and slender and my friend is short and stout, so we kind of look like a pair of Disney movie henchmen. No doubt bringing the couch back for our boss to use for kidnapping puppies.

Make Mine Extra Dark

This morning as I rode my bike to school, I decided to detour past the 7-11 to pick up some delicious Milkis ("New Feeling of Soda Beverage"). Outside was a Korean guy maybe a little younger than me, sitting in a plastic chair at a plastic table. On the table in front of him were two empty, crushed packs of cigarettes and a lighter with the metal part on top broken off. The guy was sleeping, with his arms crossed for warmth (or security) and in one hand was a cellphone (his?). I guess somebody never called last night. Or did.

The kids are (possibly) alright

The first week of the new semester has come to an end and I am one week dumber, having given freely of my intellect to the greedy minds of these sponge-like children. Here is the class update:

Kindy: We are catching up in the math book, in which I inherited from my predecessor a two chapter backlog. The young'uns continue to impress me with their ability to grasp new concepts. Fractions and probabilities were cake but now we're stepping back somewhat and reviewing tens place and the like, large scale counting. In science we are talking about seasons and exploring the notion of our currently diminishing daylight.

First: There used to be two different classes of advanced first graders which I taught. The classes were cleverly divided so that, while both were full of bright kids, one of them had all the crazies and one had all the calm. Now it has been shuffled up and both classes are replete with crazy. Calm suffers. We are reading about a police dog that does backflips.

Third: My third grade class is wonderful. They are polite, well spoken, and fun. I had to teach them the terms "qualitative" and "quantitative" today during our grammar class to really get at the meat of a discussion on adjective use.

Fourth: This one's a doozy. These kids have all, to some degree, studied English in an overseas immersion type of program. One guy in this class speaks better than lots of people I went to college with. Now that they're back they're full of piss and vinegar and up to the challenge of delaying my lesson plans by prompting rich and lengthy digressions. I'm gonna pull some Richard Feynman stuff on them. I've threatened them with Kafka lessons. They are clever and quick enough that the ordinary learning schedule is simply not enough, so I'm bringing outside material. Yesterday we did a little song analysis on the Beatles' "She's Leaving Home". Then for grammar class I made them rewrite it in the past tense. Mua, ha, ha!

Last night at dinner, one of the bosses mentioned interest in starting a theatre arts type of class or program. I am going to do all I can to get this off the ground.

Statement of Fact

Pouring a shot of Soju into your glass of Korean beer (Hite or Cass, take your pick) produces a delicious concoction which can only be described as alcoholic honey. But not like mead, because that stuff is never as good when you get it as you think it will be when you order it.

Recipe:

Pour 1 shot of Soju
Pour into a beer glass
Top with beer

Instructions:

Drink until you are happier.

Let's have a festival!

In other news, tonight I was taken out for dinner by the bosses, which has not happened in a long while. I'm not the new guy any more. It feels good.

Psychedelic Flower Hippie Love Camp

This weekend I attended a counter-cultural event held in the woods on a mountain in the middle of nowhere. Some friends had heard about a '60s styled outdoor concert and given my interest in most things '60s styled, I was immediately intrigued. With backpack packed I boarded a subway Saturday afternoon with my companions and set off.

After an hour of weighing the sub, we arrived at a major terminal where more friends joined up before boarding a "nowhere-bound" bus. Two hours and some wine later, nowhere turned out to be a small town, which we soon discovered was the wrong small town. As luck would have it, a nun and a priest offered to give all seven of us a ride in their church van to the designated hippie rendezvous point. I am not making any of this up.

About an hour later, with growing suspicion that this "nun and priest" act was really a way for them to get us to a quiet place and chop us up, we arrived at the Love Camp. It was now about 10pm and the party was on. A band of old bearded Korean dudes was rocking the hell out of some filthy acid-rock and wound their set down with CCR's Proud Mary. Something I noticed was an absence of a certain aroma which supposedly wafts around during these outdoorsy music concert things. Korea is strict, dude.

The crowd was fascinating. Maybe 150 people, mostly in their 20s and 30s, although there was a strong contingent of those who lived through whatever passed for the '60s counter culture in Korea. Maybe 30 foreigners too, although most of them were Euros or freakish pseudo-English speakers from places like "New Zealand" or "Oz". A Polish girl sat by me at one point and I said to her "So you're Polish... that's weird" and she says "It's very normal for me". This was a) the only possible response to my remark and b) freakin' genius. If you ever meet a crazy-dancing blond polish girl, ask her for enlightenment.

As the night went on things got weirder, Polish or otherwise. A mystical dance performance by odd-sods in white makeup was accompanied by hand drums, guitar, and shrieking woman. I really enjoyed several young Korean bands playing a frenzied style of proggy math-rock. The music was closed out by an experimental American guy with a keyboard and drum kit (his set reminded me of the music from Chrono Trigger) and then a more traditional techno music DJ. Then the rain started and it really became a hippie fest.

Unwilling to sleep in the mud, I decided to keep drinking and stay up all night. One of my companions, apropos of nothing but his manic drunkenness, drop-kicked a watermelon, raining pink and green bits on innocent by-standers. At another point, I used my plush black bat (Stump, RIP) to fly onto the stage and kidnap a performer's stuffed rabbit. Various audience members asked me about this for the rest of the night and it was fun to hear their mixed interpretations of the act. Alas, Stump was left on one of the buses we took back home the next day.

New Schedule and I am Kidnapped

Last weekend I went to the karaoke place with a group of co-workers. We were apparently celebrating someone's birthday, but it gradually degraded into a celebration of ridiculous behavior and Neil Diamond. There were a few stops along the way, naturally. Dinner involved a big pot of chicken and rice cakes in a red sauce, and there were the inevitable drinking stops. At the karaoke place however, something out of the ordinary happened.

As I returned from the bathroom toward my group's karaoke room, I stumbled over a drunken Korean man. He was very excited to have been stumbled over and we spent about ten minutes saying the same things to one another:

Him: "Where are you from?"

Me: "USA!"

Him: "USA!"

Me: "Where I you from?"

Him: "KOREA!"

Rinse, repeat.

We decided we liked each other, so he took me back to his group's karaoke room. Unlike in the States where most karaoke bars are one big hall where you have to wait your turn while rednecks sing "Shout at the Devil" again and again, the "noraebang" of Korea gives everybody their own zone. The Korean man's room was full of Korean people. Our earlier conversation represents more English than the rest of group combined was capable of. He dragged me into the room with a flourish that said "Lookie here gang, I got me one of them Americans! Now dance boy!" And dance I did...

To some people, being kidnapped by drunk Koreans would seem frightening. I was thrilled by the cross-cultural learning this experience provided. For example, there is a K-Pop song called "4 Minute Girl" with a chorus of English words. Two of them. "Hot issue, Hot issue, Hot issue" and then the title "4 Minute Girl!" Then I sang Sweet Caroline for the party for the second time that night.

Back on Planet Sober, Knox School is starting a new semester next week. I have gotten a new schedule with some exciting additions. I still have the same youngsters in the morning and the same first graders in the early afternoon, but now I also get to teach reading and writing to advanced third and fourth graders every afternoon. This is great because, although I'll be grading tons of writing portfolios, reading and writing are lots of fun to teach. I am thinking about bringing in a few supplemental selections. Kafka's The Penal Colony or The Dungeons and Dragons 4th edition players handbook, for example.

Two things happen at school

The other day, one of my first graders says to me "Teacher, you are funny and dark." I am not making this up.

So I wanted to write an entry about Sauna Park and the amazing "Precious Stone Kiln" where you sweat your face off encased in quartz, but such material ephemera seems insignificant compared to my yesterday...

...it was OPEN CLASS DAY! And I was expected to teach math to kindergartners in front of their parents. Isn't that a classic Jungian nightmare archetype? Like showing up to your first day of high school naked? Having to teach math to Korean children in front of their mothers?

It ended up going extremely well. I made a game out of drawing letters from a bag and determining the resulting probability of the next draw yielding a consonant versus a vowel. These kindergartners can reduce fractions, by the way. I am not making this up.

Something else happened a couple days ago. During a class, one of my students began behaving strangely, losing control of their arms and slurring words more than usual. They dropped to their knees and I caught one arm and the head and lowered the child slowly onto the ground. Straight up seizure. I told the other kids to go tell the Korean Teachers to get medical help while I lay on the ground next to my seizing student, holding a clenching hand and supporting a head, which was in danger of smacking into the bookshelf.

The kid is okay. I was pretty shaken up. Real life.

This weekend I was planning on going to hike some east coast trails leading up to ancient Buddhist monuments. Given the knee situation, instead I think I'll sit in the park and play guitar. I'm working on some Korean pop songs...

Ace in the Hole, Shot in the Ass

Here I am with my advanced kindergarten class.

Today I went to the doctor's office because my knee was bothering me. Apparently I'd been pole dancing (or something) and twisted it while under the influence of alcohol. The doctor didn't have a lot of conversational English, but I guess he'd learned from English textbooks because he had the technical language down. So yeah, some kind of strained ligament in my right knee part. There I was, gingerly favoring my good leg, and then one of the nurses tugs down my pants and gives me an anti-inflammatory injection in the left buttock. My left leg begins tightening. I can't put weight on my right. I am trapped, leaning against an examination table, unable to stand on either of my legs, unable to describe my situation to the four nurses it apparently takes to administer a simple shot. Not my proudest moment, but within a few moments I was gracefully hobbling to the physical therapy room. Heat, electric impulses, and a laser pointer helped significantly. I am on the mend, for sure.

Walker Hill Casino on Saturday was a brilliant time. Although I ultimately lost the money I brought to play with, I won the Texas Hold'em tournament, earning me a free seat at the $10,000 tournament at the end of the month. Game highlights included four of a kind Kings and a royal flush with pocket Aces. Damn that was cool. So now I have an excuse to go back and talk to the drink girls (Little Bo Peep costumes had been replaced by French Maid uniforms) using my kindergarten Korean. Speaking of speaking, I've noticed that my English is already being affected by spending my days with ESL students. I am make a sentence forming very weird and when I make a drink I go TALK but is it not the same it is with a DIFFERENCE! I'll try and upload an audio recording, if that's even possible, to help illustrate the way my seven year olds talk.

So, winning me, wounded knee. Stay tuned for more hobbling around Anyang and a detailed report on my Sunday at Sauna World, the more glamorous place I've ever been naked.

I am a millionaire!

Payday has come and I am flush with cash. I mean sure, it takes 1200 some Korean won to buy a yankee dollar, but still, it feels like high rolling. Speaking of which, I've got a date with about half my teacher friends to go back to Walker Hill casino this weekend. Teacher Matt needs a new pair of shoes, but none here fit.

Last weekend I went to get my hair cut and this was a terrific experience in cross-cultural wackiness. Being a stylist here is quite the lofty job and the service my buddy and I got was outstanding. With the shampooing and the cutting and the styling and the conditioning and the tingling scalp business and the head massage. And the assistant who stood by watching, occasionally brushing away stray hairs from my brow. All they needed were Little Bo Peep outfits with white fishnets. Speaking of which, I'm going back to Walker Hill casino this weekend.

Today was our monthly kindergarden birthday party during which the whole grade gets together for some songs and cake. Then we break off for fun time with our homeroom. I brought my guitar and incited a riot. It was like I was Jim Morrison, refusing to play. Except I am me, and I was playing. These seven year olds had clearly never been in the presence of someone playing guitar and singing and they went ballistic. While entirely unfamiliar with my musical choices, they understand moshing on a very primal level. The highlight was singing 12-bar blues about the subjects I know the kids have the blues about, like homework and Megatron. Speaking of homework, I am going to make sure I don't have any to grade this weekend, because I am going back to Walker Hill Casino.

With my paycheque, there are a few purchases I'm ready to make. I want a bike, to make easier my Anyang explorations. I want a cellphone so I don't have to walk over to friends' apartments just to learn they are out. I want a lamp because the flourescent lights in my apartment are like having a hangover in Heaven. Seems almost redundant. Also, with a small, tiny, carefully budgeted portion of my paycheque, I believe I may return to Walker Hill casino. Wish me luck.

A Real American Hero

Koreans are really into cute things. Childlike imagery of puppies and sailboats and whatnot is everywhere. At the Science Museum (yes, I finally made it back!) there is evidence that Korean scientists have had a breakthrough in cute technology. They have crossed flowers with rainbows.

This week began with upset stomach and ended with brain hurt. The stomach made sense; anybody who spends a few weeks in another country eating unfamiliar food has a good chance of finding themselves checking the old porcelain seismograph. The brain was my fault, as I willingly attended a film screening of G.I. Joe. The movie felt like Novocain. As in, by the end I couldn't feel. I'm embarrassed that the nice people in Korea judge my culture by things like G.I. Joe. Then again, I'm giving them a chance to judge our culture by my karaoke attempts, and those are also pretty numbing.

I found myself in an tricky spot during my TOEFL intensive class this week. We've started using a nice CNN book and CD to extend the listening and vocabulary lessons, but during one story, the word sexy came up. Class of eight 13 year old boys.

Class: "Teacher, what is sexy?"

Me: "Well, it's an adjective that means someone or something has sex appeal."

Class: "Teacher, what is appeal?"

(See where this is going?)

Me: "Appeal is like attraction. Anything with a desirable quality can have appeal. For example, I ordered the beef today for lunch because it had an appealing aroma."

Class: "Teacher, what is sex?"

Me: "Sex is a synonym for gender. For example, a father's sex is male. A mother's sex is female."

Then one brilliant kid goes: "So sexy means being desirable to the other sex than you?"

Me: "Exactly!"

This worked out really well. I managed to provide the guys with a functional definition of "sexy" that didn't involve me saying things that would leave them giggling or crying. Interesting corollary to this story is that later that night I went dancing and heard the word again from a group of Korean girls who didn't look too much older than my class. They apparently also had a functional definition.

Making Friends, Making Thoughts

This post is dedicated to the things I am learning from Koreans who I am making friends with.

Regular Customers get pork fat. I have several meals a week at a Korean restaurant near my apartment. Tonight, my dish, a kimchi stew, had in it nice thick chunks of pork fat in addition to the usual beef and tofu. I win.

Halle Berry is hot everywhere. A Korean guy said to me "I would sell my father's house if Halle Berry wanted me to." This also suggests something about Korean men and their fathers' houses.

Koreans are not good at pool. Despite their professional looking grips on the cue and confident strides around the table, it seems that the locals are incapable of beating me, a terrible pool player. I win again.

Holding hands is ok, as long as you're buying drinks. There is a bar I've been to a few times where the bartender, a pleasant girl, holds my hand while I drink. I tried to say something smooth when I was leaving and she pretended she didn't understand me anymore.

T-Shirts do not have to make any goddamn sense. Refer to previous posts. Or consider this recent gem: A white t-shirt that read "Madonna Kylie Bjork Beyonce Fergie" Now, I suppose that yes, these women all perform music in the pop/rock idiom but Jesus, grouping Bjork with these others is like listing Stephanie Moyer, JK Rowling, Beverly Cleary, and Cormac McCarthy. Remember the Sesame Street bit? "One of these things is not like the others, one of these things is not quite the same..."

Korean women do not like Korean men. Ok, given how many Korean couples I see walking around, this is maybe not entirely true, but it was stated exactly like this to me by a couple of Korean dudes. Later, another guy said to me "Well, not exactly, it's just that Korean women like Korean guys for marrying. Only."

You don't have to have to understand the film (or have read the book) No Country for Old Men to think it is awesome. Refer to the picture above, taken inside a "clubby bar" called Slang.

This wisdom comes from your cross-culture sociologist, me. I win.

Sweating Pocari

I was on the subway a couple days ago and two old men got on, one tall and thin, the other short and pudgy. They took up impressive stances in the center of the car and began talking shit about everyone their gaze landed on. They reminded me of those two old muppets, up in the balcony, always hating on Kermit and the gang. I couldn't understand them, but you can recognize old man shit talking.

"Look at that girl, her skirt is too short!"
"I wouldn't let my daughter out dressed like that!"
"But I sure would let her in dressed like that!"
"Ho ho ho!"

"Look at that lady with the shopping bag from the beauty salon!"
"It's gonna take a lot more than one bag to help her!"
"Ho ho ho!"

"Look at that tall white guy!"
"He's probably here to find a Korean wife!"
"Hey, if you're interested, you can take mine!"
"Ho ho ho!"

I decided to get out of civilization and spend a nice day on the beach. My goal was to get to Sokcho in the Northeast of Korea, but after a half day of shuttling back and forth between express bus terminals and pretending to be French-Canadian I gave up on that plan. Then I saw a bus heading to the airport. I knew it was on an island off of Incheon, so without any thought at all to my destination beyond the airport, I hopped aboard equipped only with a bottle of my favorite Korean energy drink, Pocari Sweat.

By the time we arrived, I had decided my perfect beach was going to be a rather remote fishing village accessible only by ferry on the south western tip of airport-island. I bussed it down there and ferried my way over. More seagulls than people, for sure. Once on that island, Muui, I realized there was an even more remote island that could be walked to during low-tide, so again, very little thinking, just action. The picture above is the path one takes from Muui to Simil. Feels like you're headed to meet with Jeff Probst and vote someone out of the tribe.

I ended up having an awesome afternoon and evening on the beach. I explored rocks and tide pools, read Cormac McCarthy, and got drunk with a Dutch couple. Only two of these three things illustrate the darkness in man's heart.

The next day I was awoken by the sun and after an hour and a half of walking and ferrying, a very nice Korean couple picked me up on the side of the road and brought me back to the airport, where another express bus was waiting to take me home. It was the best kind of mini-vacation; no planning, no stress, lots of fun!

Here's Seoul Tower

Is it possible to put more than one picture in the same post?

I Speak French

Outside my school a few days ago, I saw a man in a giant-headed chef's costume making balloon swords and dueling children while somebody on a PA system screamed about something. I have no doubt that if I knew what the hell was going on, I'd be far less amused.

This vacation has so far been awesome. I'm really digging getting to know the area without having to worry about, well, going to work every day. I've been hanging out in the park playing guitar and one night a woman sat down on the bench with me and started clapping. It took me about half an hour, but with my limited Korean and her limited English (assisted by her son who she kept calling on her cell) I learned that she wanted to sing along while I played Korean pop music and she learned that I do not know any Korean pop music on guitar. While on the topic, please follow this link for a taste...

As I mentioned previously, the Science Museum outside Anyang is freakin' awesome, so I wanted to return. Unfortunately, no one told me that museums in Korea close on Mondays. Above is a picture of me outside the museum. Sigh.

Thus began several days of exploring Seoul. My traveling companions suggested we check out the Seoul Tower, highest point in town. Definitely worth the sky-gondola ride up. An interesting tradition at the base of Seoul Tower involves couples bringing a padlock, writing love notes on it, and locking it to the fence surrounding the tower. There are hundreds of thousands of padlocks. It is really a fascinating sight.

Now, in order to get to this and the other fascinating sights I will write about in subsequent posts, one must ask for directions. Remember how it took me half an hour to figure out that Korean woman wanted me to play music with her? Imagine trying to explain that you want to take a bus to the largest water park in the world. Luckily, Seoul has white people wandering around. The thing is, they're mostly Euros. So far my piss-poor French skills are getting me further in talking to strangers than my English. I've met Belgians, Swiss, Dutch, and actual Frenchies. We speak French and point a lot. I suppose I did meet a guy from Texas, but with him I pretended to be French-Canadian.

A lot has happened in the last couple days, so expect another few posts soon...

I can take pictures

Today I found a terrific multilevel department store called NewCore. Now I have a digital camera.

Acro Towers is a massive landmark in Anyang. Tall and attractive. Like the flower statue nearby.

Grocery Auction

Like many young American men who come here, I have fallen in love with a Korean woman. I don't even know her name, but I see her all over the place, and she thinks I should drink more. I call her Soju Girl. Smiling from posters and billboards, she uses her charm and bared midriff to sell (and boost) the national spirit.

Knox school, and every other school in the country to my understanding, have closed for a week of summer vacation. I am looking forward to relaxing and exploring Anyang a little less hurried. Today, for example, I went to the E-Mart, another giant department store, which has adjacent to it a music store, where I bought strings for the thirty dollar guitar I bartered for at the central park weekend swap meet.

I decided I would return to my apartment from E-Mart on foot, and this was a mistake. After approximately two hours of walking in what was very possibly the right direction, I saw before me... the E-Mart again! I had somehow walked in a gigantic and bold circle. Something about crossing the same canal twice should have given it away. It ended up being a four dollar cab ride home. I will attempt this journey again once I have a bicycle.

I also made my first grocery shopping expedition this afternoon and was amazed by the majesty of the place. In the produce/butcher area is a man on a headset yelling at full speed, with his voice being broadcast though not just the store but around the block. Imagine going to Safeway and hearing "FISH FISH FISH! IT'S ON SALE! THIS LADY IS ABOUT TO BUY BUY BUY SOME FISH! SHE DIDN'T! SHE WILL BUY INSTEAD SOME... SHE WILL BUY SOME... LETTUCE! WE HAVE LETTUCE! LETTUCE LETTUCE LETTUCE! IT'S ALSO ON SALE!" and the like. It makes me feel like the whole grocery buying experience is some kind of auction.

I picked up some eggs, a bacon-y looking cut of pork, some beautiful looking heirloom tomatoes, and other similar articles. Tomorrow, with the assistance of the french press my coffee-loving sister sent me off with, I will construct my first western-style breakfast in my apartment. This will be fun.

And now, what you've all been waiting for. Another edition of:

Korean T-Shirts with Strange English Sayings on them:

"Are you Funky 3-Days"
"Vintage Spirit Bang Bang"
"Light Hearted Pole Emporium"
and my new favorite
"Eat me Pig"

The "Eat-Me Pig" might possibly be the mascot for a restaurant I walk past everyday. On their sign is a cartoon porker with gestures and an expression which can only mean "Who's got two thumbs and wants you to eat him? This guy!" And while on the topic of eating out, the other night I went to a place called Tofu House with English descriptions on the menu. I was tempted by a dish called "The cheese it puts and the chicken meat with the roasting and seasons" but instead went for seafood soup.

In a few days I plan on hopping a bus to Sokcho, a beach city on the east coast rumoured to have some of the very finest outdoorsy stuff around.

Fancy New Apartment

At the crosswalk yesterday, I passed a man on a moped with an entire muffler and tailpipe from a car strapped to the back. His ghetto blaster, bungeed to the moped, was blasting country western. This is why I like to walk everywhere.

This weekend I moved into my apartment. I miss the Bobos, although the commute to work is now about a third of the time. Our neighborhood is called Baekjae Samgyetang, which has something to do with a really popular chicken soup place about a block from the flats. This is pretty much the equivalent of telling a cab driver back home to just drop you off at the Red Lobster. "No, seriously, I live right around the corner!" "Sure you do, pal. You live for those all you can eat popcorn shrimp."

My apartment can best be described as "college dorm minimalism". It is a perfectly pleasant one-room unit where the kitchen is the bedroom is the living room. Luckily the bathroom is its own enclosure, however the sink area, toilet area, and shower area are all one area. This Korean design is very practical. I spent most of Sunday decorating and arranging and I must say it already feels like home. Just a home without a bidet.

All you can drink Rice Wine

Today on the subway a Korean man said some things (in Korean) and made a peculiar gesture at me. My companions told me two things. 1) He was complimenting my nose and 2) This is totally normal here.

On Friday all of Knox' preschool and kindergarten students went fieldtripping to a phenomenal science museum. Just walking toward the front doors, you feel the might of Asian Tiger science and industry. We spent only a few hours and saw maybe a fifth of the museum. Most of the exhibits are interactive and I had to wait for the kids to play with them before I got a turn. So yeah, I will be going back there. Actually, I probably had more fun that most of the kids, who are too short and young to have the perspective I do (whoa language).

I got my official teaching schedule and things are about what I expected. Little kids, littler kids, with the reading and the writing and then fourth grade science. The surprise came in the form of an additional memo from my boss. I have been given a special sixth grade college-prep(!) class based on the international English-speaking university exam, the TOEFL. After accepting that I will never understand why sixth graders are studying this stuff, I cracked open the book...

It was dinner time and I challenged myself to go out and eat alone at a place with no English on the menu and no foreigners around. Another grill-on-the-table BBQ type joint. I just pointed at something for eight bucks and asked for a beer. As I read the TOEFL study guide at my table, I was perspiring. My sweat stains mark my progress through the book because for one, this stuff is really really difficult and also, this meal was the spiciest thing I have ever eaten. Whole baby squid, swimming in a pool of chili paste. I would have been wiping the tears from my eyes, if my fingers hadn't been burning.

That night my co-workers and I went out on the town to bid farewell to those heading home. A year teaching English in Korea is a long time, and they've all become dear friends. Hell, in a week I feel very close already to some of these folks. Bars, clubs, and a particularly inspired Rod Stewart karaoke session later, I was ready to catch a few hours sleep before my big Saturday in Seoul.

Myself and a few other teachers took a subway into the city at the crack of noon. On the subway I saw people selling arm warmers (it is 80 degrees and massively humid), magnifying glasses for cell phones, and puppies. I tried to make a joke and name one of them "dinner" but I don't think I was understood. There is a point on the subway ride when the train exits the tunnels and crosses a river. To our right was the Olympic Stadium from '88. I was finally in Seoul proper, one of the most international cities in the world, and we were headed for one of the most international joints around, the foreigners' casino.

Gambling is illegal for Koreans, but that doesn't stop them from taking money from the rest of us. The hotel and casino were swanky-posh and chock full of Japanese folk. All of the food (amazing) and drinks (pomegranate rice wine served by Little Bo Peep in Fishnets dressed Korean gals) were free. We also managed to convince the very pleasant director of the hotel's weddings and events department to give us a tour so we could plan our conference next spring. This was far out! The hotel's event halls are gorgeous and one was decked out to the nines for a traditional Korean family's "Baby's First Birthday" party. Awesome garb all around.

Tomorrow I move into my apartment. I'm gonna miss the Motel Bobos. It'll be nice to get settled in for real, but there are certain small luxuries which I am coming to rely on. My linens being changed, for example. Or the giant flat screen TV (broadcasting nonsense, 24-7). Or the huge modern bathroom. Oh the bathroom. They are gonna have to pry my cold dead hands off the auto-warming seat of the bidet. Monday I start teaching without supervision (or a clean, warm butt). Good luck and Godspeed, self.

I Teach

The McDonalds' D-Day sign is definitely counting down. In 16 days, I am not going anywhere near that place.

Today was my first day running the classroom. I taught four classes of kindergarten and two classes of first grade. It was absolutely amazing! My observing teacher told me I was glowing the whole time. The kids are so excited to learn and really enjoy engaging the subjects. During a reading lesson using folktales (how the raven carried the sun up into the sky) a six year old girl raised her hand and explained that before Galileo, people used the think that the sun revolved around the earth but that it is actually the other way around. So I taught them the word "heliocentric". And they totally dug it!

During another class, we were writing letters to a friend and one student chose to write a letter to me. Maybe he was kissing up, but I don't care. I felt like I'd just won the lottery, then given the money to charity, and then been given another batch of lottery money from God for being awesome.

My wanderings around Anyang have taken me to some interesting places. I found an incredible coffee shop with green tea lattes, a traditional Korean diner with fried pork cutlets stuffed with tomatoes and cheese, and Orga, the Korean branch of Whole Foods. This place has dozens of colorful fruits and veggies all vacuum sealed in funny little tubes. I will be for sure doing some hardcore grocery shopping when I get settled into my apartment.

Speaking of shopping, I made a luxury item purchase this evening: a fancy designer watch. This is necessity in the classroom and it looks cool. The brand is French, loosely translates to "The Sporting Cock". This brings me to what I hope to develop into a regular feature on this blogue: Korean T-Shirts with Strange English Sayings on Them!

Korean T-Shirts with Strange English Sayings on Them:

Fuzzy Patrol
Enter Your Risk
Janpan Restroom
Lohan Princess (with a picture of Lindsay Lohan)
I Am Style Express Express

This is just a sample of the surreal shit that appears on people's clothing. English writing is everywhere, it just doesn't always make a lot of sense. For example, next to my school is a little lunch window serving bizarre kimchi and pork bun things. Its name? Western Hotdog. Now, there is nothing western about this dish, in theology or geometry. There is, however, a cartoon of a cowboy hotdog on their sign.

It came to my attention today that our school will be going on a field trip this Friday to a children's museum. This will without doubt be another strange and wonderful place for me to glow in. Stay tuned for all that and more!

First day at the Knox School

There I was, naked and sweating, nodding my head to the haunting melody of the equally naked singing old man. But I'm skipping ahead.

Today was my first day at Knox, the hagwon I'm teaching at. This week is mostly observation as I get to know the students whose teacher I'll be replacing. These little buggers are beyond adorable. Korean children are the cutest children I've ever been around. Their English is really impressive. I've decided if I ever need translation at a store or restaurant, I'm gonna be looking around for a kindergartner.

Speaking of restaurants, I've tried a few more Korean goodies. Most especially of note is the sweet and sour double bacon sammich at McDonalds. Yeah, I ate at a McDonalds, but I ordered things that don't exist back home. There is a suspicious sign on the wall back in the employee area that reads "D-Day 19". Next time I'm in there I'm gonna take note as to whether this sign is counting up or down.

I've also done several Korean barbeque meals. Now, this is not true BBQ; it is grilling, and they do it damn well. Pork belly and onions and garlic, along with grilled kimchi, all for the wrapping up in lettuce leaves. This stuff is cheap and yummy. I'm gonna be living like a king, at least in regards to dining.

Yesterday being my last day of tourism before the job began, I made it a goal to find one of the famed Korean saunas. This was an extraordinarily difficult task given my apparent inability to mime "sauna" but my two plus hours of searching were all worth it when my tired body hit the steaming water. In Koren saunas, everybody gets naked with their own gender-folk and soaks in differently temperatured pools. There are also these terrific steam rooms, where I encountered the old singing man.

Back to today's workday, I got assigned to replace a particularly organized Canadian gal. I worked up a decent week's lesson plan for the first graders and was shocked when she just up and used it. Seems that I think just like a seven year old Korean child! Did I mention how adorable they are? Because they are. Also, they all pointed out how tall I am.

Right now we are experiencing the monsoon season. Most tourist literature touts Korea's Four Unique Seasons, but I'm thinking monsoon is the fifth. It is warm and pouring and will apparently keep going like this for another couple weeks. Walking home from work in shirt and tie, soaking from a combination of sweat and rainwater was not at all pleasant, but I'm still digging the novelty of everything enough (the street my hotel is on is like walking through the inside of a pinball machine) that I wasn't bothered.

By this time next week I will be teaching classes completely on my own, but for the rest of this week I'm gonna stay paired up. So far, so good. I've always had strong positive inclinations toward teaching and I really think I'm gonna dig this English instruction gig. Until next time, your working boy, Matt.

Day 1

This afternoon a giant pile of sand appeared in front of my hotel. But I'm skipping ahead.

Yesterday evening I arrived in Anyang-si, a city of about 600,000 a half hour south of Seoul. I have moved to Korea to teach English at a private school, called a "hagwon" where kids cram outside of their regular studies. For the next year I will be an expat, reinforcing the myth of the ugly American and trying to order anything at McDonalds that isn't made with dog.

I'll be staying in an apartment provided by the school, but until those accommodations are ready, I'm in a love motel called Bobos. Here in South Korea, most young people live with their families until they marry, so there are dozens of inexpensive hotels for couples to enjoy a night together. My room has a huge red dome light above the bed.

Last night after dropping off my things and showering off the twelve hour plane flight, I went out with a few of my employers and coworkers. We were in a bar district called, to the best of my phonetics, bum-gay, where I got my first glimpse of Korean nightlife. Women wear high heels and high skirts and giggle constantly. Men hold each other up and sing. It's quite bromantic. Watching a trio of dudes with arms around each others' shoulders maneuver through a crowd from one bar to the next reminded me of playing with a Ouiji board ("I'm not moving it!" "You must be moving it!" "Well, it can't be moving itself!").

We ended up at a brand new bar which in its three weeks of being open has become the spot for foreigners to throw up on Koreans. I met two Irish guys (who told me I was James Bond) and a South Afrikaner who looked like a Nazi version of me. So to the Irish guys he probably looked like Daniel Craig. In the bathroom a Korean apologized to me for his friend, who was vomiting in the toilet. I practiced my Korean on him. All I know are "hello", "sorry", and "thank you", but these were all appropriate.

I woke up this morning in a strange country with a familiar hangover. Went for a solid walk around town trying to find the apartment I'd be moving into (unsuccessful) and the school I'd be teaching at (further un-success). I ate lunch at Lotte Mart, a sort of big box store with a cafeteria. I'm quickly realizing that Koreans love to overserve. I guess if you finish everything in your meal, then they perceive that they didn't make enough for you. My crab and egg and sprout soup came with kimchi, oily nuts, and a couple patties of white gelatinous sponge. Stuff yourself for four and a half bucks.

This afternoon I decided to hike the big mountain near my hotel. It is a humbling experience to be passed by the elderly as you lean against a tree gasping for breath. I'm gonna blame it on the humidity. It is hell of humid here. And the old folks are really fit. At the top of the mountain I got to get a sense for the city and its surroundings. Beautiful green hills all around; the city was built in a valley of sorts. It could have been dear old Portland Oregon if not for the cookie cutter apartment complexes and neon signs encouraging me to drink soju.

When I got back to my hotel, the giant pile of sand had appeared. Two kids were drawing on it and a policeman was standing nearby talking to a guy and gesturing at the pile with his grape drink. My comprehension's not so good, but I got the gist of the conversation. Somebody is in trouble about that sand. My goal for this evening is to successfully order another meal (and not accidentally upgrade my cell phone plan- it's hard to tell what kind of establishment you're entering from the street). There is a bar on my block with a bunch of Korean written on it and one big graffiti style English phrase: "WHY U NOT DRINK". I don' know if this is a question or if the bar inside is an example. I intend to find out.