school

Today I realized that I knew a Korean word. I was in class with Miss Doo having big excitement with some listen and repeat exercises when I heard her say, "chumbi." "Chumbi" I think to myself, I know that word, and I am transported to the days when I was in karate. A vague memory floats back to me of how all the words we used were Korean, and "chumbi" is the only one I still remember. And I'm glad to say that my American karate teachers did not lie to me, and it does mean exactly what they said: ready. (Erica used to be a superstar at chumbi, be sure to ask her to demonstrate next time you see her.)

The school is in a frenzy getting ready for exams next week. This means for me that while everyone else is working really hard and getting stressed, I am sitting around with nothing to do. They don't really test the kids on what I do, I'm just here for entertainment. So when things are serious, like at exam time, I just sit at my desk and play computer Mah Jong. My Thursday and Friday classes have been canceled, since the kids have to prepare for next week's tests, so I'm looking at an empty week before a week half days. I knew I always liked exams. The only bummer is that my desk is right in the main doorway of the main office, so everyone and their brother walks by and checks out what I'm up to (playing Mah Jong, watching "How I Met Your Mother" or something else equally useless, listening to audio books on the iPod, typing up blog entries (which I tell myself looks useful because at least I'm typing something)). (I can put a parenthesis in a parenthesis because my high school English teacher told me that once you learn to write, you can break all the rules, so I like to think that at some point I reached the pinnacle and can now do whatever I want.) And the students seems to think that my space is their space and stick their faces right up to my screen to see what I'm up to. So I've had to stop watching "Dawson's Creek" at school because sometimes it's a little sketchy.

After exams we have about a week and half of school. I asked Ms Park what we do with this time, since the semester is kind of over as the kids will have had their final exams, and she said that we will teach them things, but with a worried look on her face said, "sometimes they are hard to control." "Really?" I say with mock disbelief, and think to myself, my mom has a certain phrase she uses in a situation like this, but I have not progressed enough to use it, and if I did I would get an email from my Dad saying it wasn't appropriate. So I'll just think it to myself and you can wonder on your own about the mystery phrase.

On a side note, the students here a geniuses. They can spell 'hundred.' I couldn't spell hundred until I went to college. And Miss Doo can spell exercise. I didn't learn that one until class today.

My students this week were excited and thrilled to study "Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson. This made for much amusement all around, whether from the enthusiastic whoops from the pop singer (imitated by the more daring in the class) or for me when I asked "who is the man in the mirror?" and received answers such as, "Michael Jackson!" or "poor people!" ("when you look in the mirror, do you see poor people?") When I was planning this lesson I didn't stop and spend much time on the choice of song, not fully realizing at the time that I would have to listen to the song about 300 times this week. The decision came mostly from a song that related to "how to change the world" and since everyone here knows Michael Jackson, I figured this was a good bonus (I don't think here in Korea they know much about his crazy side). Luckily for me, I have actually grown more fond of the song as I've listened to it. I hope to be so lucky next time I pick a song, as fill in the blank lyrics seems to be a big hit with the students. Even when the computer is broken and I must recite the lyrics, the class is still mesmerized into silence (in fact they are quieter when I read than when we listen). Perhaps I have a voice like my Intro to Bible prof, who no matter what he was talking about always put me to sleep instantly. I'm convinced it was the tone and cadence of his speaking, and the fact that is was at 8 in the morning. In any case, I felt a bit like the musician who tamed the wild beast when I read aloud, as the previously rowdy, obnoxious class became so quiet you could hear a pin drop (aside from my recitation).

The only other excitement of my week has been deciding that Gunsan must be the aberration of Korea because I believe we only have nice old people here. We have heard from various sources that the old women in Korea are something to be feared and avoided. Apparently they have no thought for the people around them and are quite ruthless when it comes to standing in line, walking on the street, or doing just about anything else. This being said, I have not experienced any of this mean old lady business. In fact I have only experienced very nice old ladies on the bus. One I met was quite worried that I get a seat on the bus and kept tugging on my shirt until I obliged and sat in a recently opened seat. And yesterday as I was standing at the bus stop in a little drizzle with only my raincoat, an old lady came up and shared her umbrella with me as we waited for the bus. There was also an old man on the bus who was determined to give me his seat, despite my deferrence (the buses in Korea are quite wild and it's all I can do to keep my balance as the bus jerks around, and I didn't want to be responsible for an old man falling over), he prevailed (and I think was more steady on his feet than I am) and proceeded to have a conversation with me in English. I'm not sure if a conversation is a good trade for a seat on the bus, but we both seemed pleased at the arrangement, so I guess in this case everyone was a winner. So I sit in wait of meeting my first mean old lady, but strongly believe that Gunsan is the land of nice old people.