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.