Here's a recap of the week. I had 11 criers this week--3 less than last week but still a long way from my weekly average of 3. I'm hoping we get there again soon.
One of my little boys had the most impressive explosively runny nose I've ever seen. I've never seen so much snot in all my life. "Pinatubo" might be an apt nickname for him.
The staff at my school got great news this week that one of our 3rd grade students won first place in a nationwide book report contest sponsored by Oxford University Press. We're all so proud of her. Catherine and I both teach her, but she wrote the book report in Catherine's class. Today we had a pizza party in class to celebrate. (Korean pizza is fun. It has potatoes and corn on it.)
On Thursday one of my Korean co-teachers asked me if I'd do a cooking project with the preschool and kindergarten kids this week.
EMH: No problem.
TEACHER: How about mashed potatoes? They're not a traditional Korean food, but they're a traditional American food. You can show the kids how to make them. How do you make mashed potatoes?
EMH: Well, I've never actually made them. I think you boil the potatoes and then mash them with milk and butter.
TEACHER: You've never made mashed potatoes? Aren't they a staple food in America?
EMH: Well, yes. But I don't like potatoes, so I've never made them myself. I've helped my mom and grandma make them, but I just follow their directions--stir this, mash that. Since I don't like them, I've never really paid attention to the whole process.
TEACHER: YOU DON'T LIKE POTATOES? Aren't potatoes to Americans like rice to Koreans?
I didn't know how to respond to that one. I'm glad my national identity doesn't hinge on the starchy food I do and don't eat. I did, however, feel a little silly and slightly not American when I had to search the internet for basic mashed potato recipes later that day. (In case anyone cares to know, the other foods on my "no, thanks" list are cooked carrots, cheesecake, mayonnaise, and after a rather awkward lunch here in Korea, dog meat.)
So it's been another good week. Here are some pictures of my super students. First, tae-kwon-do in preschool.
One of my kindergarten classes was a real handful this week. On Tuesday, one little boy wouldn't keep his hands to himself. He kept punching two of the other kids and shoving books at a third. I tried moving him, moving them, taking away his books, putting him in time out, etc., and he just kept at it. The final straw was during music time when he roared, ran to the wall, and proceeded to pull off the posters. It was almost the end of class, and his mother was waiting out in the hall, so I told him he needed to wait outside. He refused to go, so I called Joy in to help. I'm not sure what got into him that day. He's very bright and usually very good in class. There isn't a full moon until April 3rd, so I guess he just wasn't having a good day.
On Thursday, I couldn't get the two little girls to stop talking. They just kept jabbering on and on and were starting to sound a little angry, all the while completely ignoring me, even when I called their names, separated them, threatened them with time out, etc. Finally I called Joy in to mediate. She said the argument was something like this: Girl 1 wanted Girl 2 to come to her house to play after school. Girl 2 didn't want to go because she doesn't like Girl 1's dad. Girl 1 was offended and told Girl 2 that her dad is really nice. Girl 2 was offended that Girl 1 didn't share her opinion.
It cracks me up when the little kids get talking to each other. They can be so serious and so animated sometimes. With my very limited Korean, I can sometimes get the gist of what they're saying, but most of the time I have no idea. What do kids that young have to talk about? Politics? The economy? Sometimes I imagine that they're plotting some kind of mass uprising against the adults of the world. If it ever does happen, we're in trouble.
And here are two of my bilingual 3rd graders working on their oral reports for next week.
One is reporting on Paris and the other on New York City.They have to give at least a 2-minute presentation about the location of the city (continent, country, etc.), the geography, and at least three important landmarks. They found it pretty amazing that the Statue of Liberty was shipped across the Atlantic Ocean from France. (I don't think they understood that it wasn't assembled at the time and instead imagined an intact statue on the ship.) They wanted to know what would have happened if the ship had sunk during its journey. Would someone have tried to retrieve it from the ocean floor? Would there have been a second statue? The best part of the conversation was when one of the boys asked, "Is it bad luck if liberty sinks?" I taught my once-a-week mothers' class this morning. The mothers' class is a welcome break in my week from teaching small children. It's nice to work with adults for a change, but they still make me a little nervous. I know what to do with small children if my lesson flops or if we end up finishing the material with class time to spare. There are always games to be played, songs to be sung, pictures to be colored, but none of those things work with adults, so I have to be on my toes. When I first started teaching the mothers' class, I was really nervous and didn't enjoy it very much. Now I look forward to it, and I think it makes me a better teacher to have a class that is a much different sort of challenge.
They speak basic conversational English. Most of the time, I can figure out what they're saying, but sometimes I can't. Then I have to decide if I let it go or ask for further clarification. Sometimes the clarification is even more confusing. Sometimes I can see in their expressions that they face the same dilemma with things I say to them. It makes me constantly think about the words and sentence structure that I use. Many of my conversations with people are like this every day. I don't "dumb things down," but I do find myself constantly thinking about the best way to be clearly understood.
When people ask me what I miss most about home, after telling them about my family and friends, I tell them that I miss not having to think so much. At home, I know how things work. I know what to expect. Here I don't. At home I can read and speak and understand without concentrating. I can glance at a sign or hear a snippet of an announcement and understand it. Here I can't. The two times that I've been home this year, as soon as I got off the plane in Chicago, I felt that instant release of simply not having to think so much. It's strange to me that of all the things I could miss--food, television, or even familiar places--what I miss the most is simply not having to concentrate so much to understand the world around me or to make myself understood in it.
1 comment:
Hi Cody.
I'm not doing as well in Korean as I'd like simply because I don't need to use it much of the time. Most of what I know I've learned from my friends and students. If I stay for another year, I'd like to take an actual Korean course and really get serious about learning the language. I think it's great that you've learned so much Portuguese in your short time there in Brazil. What a great skill to carry with you, not to mention a terrific souvenir! Good for you!
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