I am such a different person this semester, I never used to refuse food. I love Korean food, I will eat Korean food with gusto. Except for breakfast. When I am still trying to convince myself that consciousness is better than dreams, I am not prepared for anything beyond a bowl of cereal.
I will eat that ddok after school. I promise.
Apparently the how in “How did you come to Korea?” actually means “Why?” This is why I get annoyed when the captain tells me I need to learn more Korean. What is the point? I still can’t talk to elementary students; I will not, even if I did study the next three months, be able to understand your explanations of Jeju’s geology. Except that I already know why there are holes in scoria and pumice, thank you, I went to school. Sigh.
I have set up my morning class lessons this term as a kind of unit instead of discrete classes that have no connection to each other. Which has been cool, but now I have kids working at different paces, or refusing to work, and we still have to progress every class towards the end. So I’m rewriting the activity, mentally, as we go along. Here’s what I really wanted, and the advanced ones have got it, and here’s what I’ll except from the ones who haven’t. And the ones who have done nothing the last three weeks, well, guess who’s giving a speech about a cartoon character that the teacher made up? Lucky, lucky girls who could have gotten away with presenting only half the work if they had done even that, but instead will have fifteen very complete sentences. I should be careful. I haven’t driven any first graders away yet.
A few second graders tried to quit because they “don’t understand.” Mrs. Jang is so different from Mr. Rhee. “I think they are lazy, and that’s the reason,” she said. Whereas if he’d been here, he would have told me “They don’t understand you. Hm. What do you think about that?” and gone back to reading internet news or looking for an English email buddy, leaving me to question the validity of my existence here.