Weariness

Ever since my pneuomina-kidney infection combo a month ago, I find that I get tired a lot more easily than usual. That's been especially true this week. It's the end of the month again, so in addition to my usual 12-hour school day, I've been working on monthly progress reports and lesson plans. Toward the end of the day, I can actually start to feel my brain start to shut itself down. I remember learning about different types of brain waves in a psychology class in high school. Is it possible actually to feel your brain waves change? I think I can.

When I get home at night, I'm tired. I'm not able to think clearly enough to read or write or study, so I'm not making anywhere near enough progress on my geology and math courses or my Korean, and my journal entries and email messages go unwritten. Honestly, at the end of the day, I no longer want to communicate. It's almost as if after a full day of trying to communicate, I have no more words left to exchange--none to say, none to hear--in English or Korean. I don't even turn the television on. I just want to sit in quiet.

My brain feels a little more fried than usuaul today. In my morning classes at the preschool, I have no control over the curriculum. I am simply given a lesson and am expected to teach it. However, the lessons are frequently inadequate--insufficient material or an inappropriate level or simply a poor quality. Today I was given a science lesson that was designed for 2nd graders in the United States, and I was expected to teach it to 5- and 6-year-olds whose English is so limited that they sometimes still have trouble answering the question "How are you?" with the pat response "I'm fine, thank you." At the preschool, I'm supposed to have a Korean coteacher in the class with me. Some are very sweet and helpful, but others surf the internet with complete disregard to the fact that the kids don't have any idea what I'm saying and chaos is beginning to ensue.

Today the lesson was obviously too difficult for the kids, but I had to teach it anyway. In one class, this resulted in 12 children holding up papers and screaming "MS EMH, 어똫게?????????????" ("WHAT DO I DO???") With no common language, I had no real way to explain to them what they were supposed to do, and even if I could have explained it, the lesson would have been too difficult for them anyway. The Korean coteacher, completely oblivious to the deafening noise level, didn't try to help with the explanation. She was too busy keeping a child, whom I suspect to be autistic, from wandering out of the classroom (why his assigned seat is closest to the door is beyond me), and no matter how may times I said, "Raise your hand!" or "Don't yell!" the screaming persisted.

I don't blame the kids. They're just little and asking for help in the way they know how--repeating themselves with increased volume when they don't get a sufficient answer to their question. I don't blame the teacher. She's usually helpful and was obviously busy assisting the special needs child. I do, however, blame--or at least question--this culture of ultra competitiveness that makes people believe that it's somehow beneficial to their very small children to push them past their ability to comprehend--to give beginning English students materials designed for native English-speakers who are several years older than they are. The sad thing is that this completely wasted valuable class time during which real progress could have been made in their English education. It's even sadder that this isn't the first class we've had like this.

Discipline, or Lack Thereof

I was a little on edge today, so things that normally don't bother me too much grated on me more than usual. I have one student who is particularly rude and annoying. Most of the time, I believe I deal with this student well and ignore as much as I can, but today, I actually yelled in class. Normally, I think yelling is a waste of time and energy, but on this particular day, nothing else seemed to get this student's attention. When the rude, annoying behavior continued after repeated warnings, I completely lost my cool. The student was startled and almost in tears and the rest of the class just stared at me. "I think Ms EMH is serious," one of the kids whispered to another.

"As opposed to the times I'm not serious when I say this behavior is unacceptable?" I thought. In my mind, I could hear echoes of my mom saying to my sister and me when we were kids, "Do you think I yell because I like to?!"

Most of my students are sweet, but a few, like this particular student, have already bought into the aspect of Korean culture that essentially gives a foreigner no status in society. While most of my students are respectful, sweet children, it's frustrating to the extreme to encounter those who already view foreigners as somehow less deserving of respect than Koreans and who view foreigner teachers as having no real authority.

I'm not sure yelling earned me any respect in this student's eyes, but since nothing else I tried seemed to work, if this at least communicates that being rude and annoying is socially unacceptable, then maybe something important was learned this week.

I wanted to talk to this student after class and say something to the effect of, "We didn't do too well together day. Let's work together better next time," but the student was out the door faster than I've ever seen this student move. I sighed as I watched the little head of black hair disappear down the hallway with remarkable speed.

My project for the week: learn some new discipline strategies because what I currently know clearly isn't working in this case.

I'm thankful . . .

. . . for my family and friends.
. . . for my teachers and mentors.
. . . for my physical and emotional health.
. . . for the peace and prosperity in which I live.
. . . for food on my table and a roof over my head.
. . . for my students who challenge and inspire me.
. . . for a life that is full of people and places I love.
. . . for clean water to drink and clean air to breathe.
. . . for access to quality healthcare and trained physicians.
. . . for my education and life experiences which have molded me.

I had a happy Thanksgiving dinner at my apartment with my friends from work. Instead of turkey, we ordered some Chinese delivery. Great food and good company. As the only American at the table, I did my best to explain American Thanksgiving traditions, or at least those of my family. I also tried to answer T and M's historical questions, which at one point required pulling my copy of Nathaniel Philbrick's Mayflower off the bookshelf to check facts. It was fun to celebrate an American holiday with my friends here, but at the same time, I missed being with my family.

Here's our Thanksgiving dinner, including a rare recent photo of yours truly without glasses.

We thank Thee, Lord, for this our food,
For life and health and every good;
By Thine own hand may we be fed;
Give us each day our daily bread.
John Cennick, 1741

November Highlights

I've been too busy to write much this month. Among all the other things on my plate, I began the mammoth project of editing my Korea journal for consideration for publication--as if teaching, recovering from pneumonia, taking two university courses, joining the gym, and studying Korean weren't enough to keep me busy.

We had our first snowfall of the year last night. It didn't last long and was followed by a thunderstorm, but it was pretty while it lasted. It signals that fall really is on its way out. The trees are looking pretty bare right now, but just a couple weeks ago, they were the most beautiful yellow and red. These shots are of the ginkgo trees right outside my apartment building.November has been a good month. I attended the baptism of one of my students early in the month. It was an honor to be invited and very nice to be back inside a church. It was the same church that I stood in front of several months ago and contemplated having become an outsider. Here is beautiful Irene, dressed her in hanbok for her baptism.The following weekend Catherine, M, and I went along with T and H-k to E and L's ballet recital at the local culture and arts center. Another two of my students were also in the three-hour performance. The little kids were clumsily cute as they basked in their prima ballerina glory, and the middle and high school students who performed a combination of ballet and traditional Korean dancing were elegant.As usual, I'm thankful for my friends here who give me little glimpses into the celebrations and routine of Korean life. To share some American culture with my friends, I've invted them to my apartment for dinner this Friday to celebrate Thanksgiving with me. Since I don't know where to get a turkey in Korea and couldn't cook one on my two-burner gas range anyway, I'm opting for the alternate American tradition--Chinese take-out.

Reminding Myself Why I Took PE Pass/Fail in High School

P.E. was the downfall of my otherwise straight-A year in 9th grade. I was uncoordinated, out-of-shape, asthmatic, and entirely unmotivated when it came to athletic endeavors. When I transferred schools midway through high school, I was relieved that my new school offered the option of taking P.E. pass/fail, which meant I could show up, don the uniform, make a fool out of myself, and not suffer any academic consequences.

I like to think I've come a long way since then, but today I joined a gym for the first time in my life, and I'm not so sure. I'm still a little under the weather from my round of pneumonia a couple weeks ago, but I'm feeling like it's time to get moving again to shake what's left of this bug, so when Catherine suggested joining the gym with her, I decided to give it a try.

Since I've done absolutely no physical activity in the past three weeks, I was surprised that I didn't do too terribly on the treadmill. I'd never used one before, so it took a while to figure out how to keep my balance on it, but once I got the hang of it, I kept going for longer than I thought I would. However, stretching was another matter entirely. The trainer at the gym gave Catherine and me a stretching lesson that was a little too complicated for me. I couldn't follow the instructions in Korean, so I did my best to watch the trainer in the mirror and do what she was doing. What a flashback to adolescent uncoordination. At one point, Catherine noticed me struggling to figure it out and stopped what she was doing to reposition my arms. The whole ordeal made me laugh, which didn't help. Yeah, it's a good thing I went for the pass/fail option in high school.

We're going back again in the morning, and they're going to do something or other to analyze our body fat and water balance. Other than no breakfast tomorrow morning, I'm really not sure what that means.

Zapped

This week has been a blur. I stayed home from school on Monday and felt too miserable to do anything. I didn't read, didn't watch tv, didn't even sleep. I just sat on my couch and wrapped myself up in a pretty pink shawl that my new friends S and B, whom I met in North Korea in September, gave me for my birthday.

On Tuesday I went back to school. I taught my morning classes, but H-k taught my afternoon classes, and I just helped out. I was really beat at the end of the day. I went home at 7:00 and was sound asleep by 8:00. I only woke up twice in 12 hours! On Wednesday I taught my morning classes. H-k taught two of my afternoon classes, and I taught the other two. On Thursday and Friday, I taught all of my classes by myself.

I had a follow up appointment with the doctor on Friday. H-k gave me a ride, and we had to leave here by 6 AM, which was not a lot of fun. They did blood tests and chest xrays. The doctor said there's a lot of improvement but still some sign of infection, so I'm not supposed to exert myself for another two weeks, and I'm supposed to keep pumping fluids. It's frustrating because I want to be better NOW. The fall colors are at their peak now--beautiful yellows, oranges, and reds--and I want to be on top of the mountains. I know not to overdo it, however. I don't want this bug coming back. I was actually starting to feel close to normal on Friday, but I'm feeling really lethargic and just generally ill again today. No plans for the weekend except staying warm and sleeping.

Another Day, Another Doctor

I woke up at 3:30 yesterday morning and felt pretty miserable, worse than I had felt on Friday and Saturday. I hung in there until about lunch time, but when I started feeling even worse, I decided it was time to call H-k and ask if the clinic has an emergency number since it's closed on Sundays. She and T decided I needed to go to the emergency room, and she came to pick me up a little while later.

H-k took me to the Samsung Seoul Hospital. They did a bunch of tests, concluded that I have a kidney infection and pneumonia, and pumped me full of fluids and antibiotics. Six hours later, we were allowed to go home, with an arsenal of medications (with labels!) and a follow-up appointment on Friday.

The emergency room was very crowded yesterday, probably because it was Sunday and most local clinics were closed. There were a few other foreigners there. While I was waiting for an xray, I observed a southeast Asian couple struggle to make themselves understood by the doctors and nurses. I was so thankful that H-k was there with me. Even though the doctors and nurses could speak and understand English, it was such a reassurance to have someone else there who could help me communicate when difficulties arose. I told H-k that she graduated to a new level of friendship yesterday, not only because of her care and concern, but also because at one point she had to help me remove my bra while I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and had an IV in my hand. No easy task, let me say. We joked that it was an R-rated version of the human knot game that we played with our students in the park just a couple weeks ago. It's good to keep a sense of humor about things.

A visit to a medical facility is never my idea of a fun way to spend the day, and in Korea, I find it all the more uncomfortable because of the language barrier and cultural differences, but I have to say that what I experienced in the emergency room was not significantly different from what I would expect in the U.S., with a few notable exceptions.

The first major different was the lack of privacy. Examinations that required undressing were performed behind a curtain, though I had other people walk in on me twice without any notice, but all other procedures and consultations were carried out in a crowded common room. The other major difference I noticed was a different standard of sanitation. The hospital was clean, but the examining tables didn't have linens or paper, and I didn't notice anyone disinfecting them between patients. I'm also used to doctors and nurses at home washing their hands right there in the room before they touch you. I didn't see anyone do that here. No one's hands appeared dirty, but now that I think about it, I didn't notice a sink anywhere around. Maybe we're a little paranoid about things like privacy and sanitation in the West, but I'm not so sure that's a bad thing.

T is teaching my classes again today, and I'm really thankful for all his help this week. I'm getting very tired of staying at home, so I'm hoping I can go back to school on Tuesday if someone helps me with crowd control in my classes. I miss my students and friends.

Not such a happy camper

I've been home sick for the past three days. I felt it coming on for a couple weeks, but I thought I was achy from all the hiking I've been doing and coughing because of a cold that would pass on its own. However, after two nights and one day of serious pain and coughing so hard that I was gagging and having a hard time catching my breath, on Thursday morning, I finally gave up, called in sick, and went to the doctor.

Joy went with me, and while I didn't actually need an interpreter, I was feeling so miserable that it was nice just to let someone else do the talking. One of the nurses even asked me, "You don't talk?" Every inch of my body hurt so much that even breathing was painful.

This was only the second time that I've been to a doctor since I came to Korea. The medical culture is different here than it is in the United States. Perhaps because of the national health insurance program, which makes medical care both easily accessible and affordable to everyone, people go to the doctor much more readily here than they do in the U.S. Medical privacy seems almost nonexistent. People don't seem to ask as many questions of their doctors here, and similarly, doctors seem to have less patience with patients' questions than they do in the U.S. Doctors seem to prescribe more medications but for a shorter duration than they do at home, and medications come in little packets with no labels. I lovingly refer to these as mystery pills. Here's my second round of them, acquired this afternoon.Joy and I arrived at the clinic when it opened at 10 AM. They took my height, weight, blood pressure, and temperature right there in the waiting room, in front of an audience of 4 elderly people who had arrived before us. Since the receptionist said there would be a wait, Joy decided I needed to eat, even though I had no appetite, and took me across the street for samgyejuk--a chicken and rice porridge that is the Korean equivalent of chicken noodle soup for someone who is sick. I generally like all sorts of juk but had no interest in eating and couldn't even finish a third of it, so Joy had them package the rest of it for me to take home.

Then we went back to the clinic. Even though the doctor could speak some English--as most educated people in Korea can--he was obviously nervous about the language and primarily talked with Joy. It made me feel a little childish to be spoken about rather than spoken to while I was sitting right there, especially since I could follow some of their conversation in Korean, but I was also so uncomfortable that I didn't care so much. Living here has made me learn to trust people and also to be okay with needing help. I made sure to describe my symptoms slowly and clearly myself, but I wasn't feeling chatty, so it didn't bother me too much just to be quiet. He listened to me breathe and then smacked me on the back . . . hard. I was in pain to start with, but that felt like a knife was going right through me. "Did that hurt?" he asked as if my wince and moan weren't clear enough indications that it did. Then, just to be sure, he did it two more times in slightly different places, each producing the same reaction from me.

He then wanted a urine sample, but unlike doctors' offices at home that generally have a toilet somewhere in the office, this clinic had none. The clinic is located with several other medical and dental offices on the 4th floor of a shopping mall, and they all share the public restroom, which was, of course, down the hall, around a corner, down another hall, around another corner, down yet another hall, around yet another corner, and down still another hall. Joy encouraged me, "You can do it!" So off I went with my little plastic cup to the restroom. As I returned to the clinic, carefully carrying my little plastic cup, which didn't have a lid by the way, I hoped that I wouldn't run into a student or parent--not that it's anything to be embarrassed about really--but carrying a little plastic cup of your own pee in public is generally not a socially acceptable thing to do where I'm from. I didn't run into anyone, however, and when I returned, Joy greeted me with an enthusiastic "Good job!" to which I had absolutely no idea how to respond.

The doctor concluded that I have a bacterial infection in my lungs and kidneys. He sent me off with a prescription for a bunch of mystery pills and told me to drink a lot of fluids and get a lot of rest. Joy took me to the pharmacy where I made them explain to me, much to their frustration, what each pill was--an antibiotic, a cough medicine, an anti-inflammatory painkiller, and an orange pill that they couldn't find a way to describe for me.

Joy took me home and waited while I wrote out a quick lesson plan for T who was covering my classes. It turns out that I wasn't thinking clearly enough to write down the correct page numbers, but he's resourceful, so I'm sure he managed just fine. I spent the rest of the day feeling miserable and sleeping. On Thursday night, Joy, Catherine, and H-k all came to check on me, which I really appreciate. H-k brought me some juice, corn tea, and fruit.

I was actually able to sleep Thursday night, only waking up three times. Friday was a little better than Thursday. I'm a far cry from 100%, but I'm in nowhere near as much pain and am not coughing as much. H-k called to check on me Friday morning, and T stopped by so I could write down a brief lesson plan for him. Catherine and Joy called to check on me in the afternoon and evening. It's really reassuring to know that I have such good friends who are so concerned and caring.

Since I was stuck at home yesterday but feeling a little better than Thursday, I tried to be productive. Between naps, I corrected 9 workbooks and 7 journals, graded 9 tests, and wrote 20 progress reports. The end of the month is always really busy--with progress reports and next month's lesson plans due--so I wanted to get some work done so that it's not such an overwhelming task when I return to school on Monday.

I went back to the doctor this morning for my next round of mystery pills (pictured above) and then stopped by the school to swap books, but I have no other plans for the weekend except continuing to pump fluids and sleep.

Field Trips!

I love field trips. They are so much work and so exhausting, but they're a blast. The kids run around, burn energy, have a great time, and don't even realize that they're learning. Last week we took almost all of our preschoolers through 4th graders to the city's central park for a few hours of fun, cooperative outdoor games. I loved it . . and the kids had fun, too.

Preschool and KindergartenFirst GradersSecond GradersThird and Fourth GradersOne kindergarten class and one 2nd/3rd grade class together

Gyeryongsan National Park

Jackie organized another hiking trip this weekend. We went to Gyeryongsan National Park in the central part of Korea. I was feeling pretty worn out because of a cold and chest congestion, and I wasn't able to keep up so well. The park was crowded, and it was cold out. As we were going up, I got warm and took my coat off, but when I stopped moving, I got quite chilly. It was an enjoyable weekend with a good dinner at the end. Cheers to Jackie for another successful outing.

They say it's (my) birthday!

I had a wonderful birthday this week. My day started with a phone call with Mom and Dad, which is always one of the highlights of my week. Then all the teachers at my morning preschool sang Happy Birthday to me in English, despite being nervous about it. When I got to my regular school in the afternoon, my friends had flowers for me. I got a lot of hugs and "I love you"s from kids all day.

On Friday, I went out to lunch with the mothers' class. As we were walking to the restaurant, one of the moms started walking away from the group. I asked the others where she was going, but they pretended not to me. She showed up at the restaurant a little while later with a cake. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me.

I invited my friends from work over to my apartment for dinner on Friday night--salad, minestrone, and pizza. One of my students had given me a cake on Thursday, so we ate that, too. Everyone seemed to have a good time--I sure did.

It was a very happy birthday. It only would have been better if my family and friends at home had been here, too.

Everyday I am thankful that I work with people who are also my friends and have become my family here in Korea. I love this picture. Back, L to R: T, H-k, M, Catherine, Jenny. Front: Chloe, Joy, E and L (on Joy's lap), and myself.

Flesh-eating fish

About a month ago, my friend Catherine told me about "Doctor Fish," small fish that eat the dead skin from your feet. Since then I've heard about them five or six times but hadn't given it a try until tonight. It sounded too unique to miss, so when H-k suggested tonight that we check out a new cafe that has doctor fish, I more than enthusiastically agreed.

It was a really strange sensation--somewhere between a tickle and a scratch. They all swarm around your feet and nibble away. H-k joked that they seem to like "ethnic food," meaning American feet, for a change.

Here are some pictures.

Songnisan National Park

My friend Jackie organized a hiking trip at Songnisan National Park in the central part of Korea this weekend. I took the train about an hour south of where I live to Cheonan and met up with everyone. From there we took two buses to the national park. We visited the big buddha at Beopjusa and then hiked halfway up the mountain to the hut where we'd stay the night. Half of our group of 10 stayed at the hut Saturday afternoon and the other half of us hiked up to a small hermitage near the ridge. From there, Scott, Jackie, and I continued to the highest peak in the park--Cheonhwangbong--at 1058 meters. Jackie and Scott are pretty serious hikers and left me in the dust when I stopped to take a couple pictures, but I eventually caught up with them.

Then we headed back to the hut for some excellent Korean food for dinner--and a lot of it. We sat there around the table next to the wood-burning stove and talked and laughed for a few hours. Then we called it a night. Most of us got up early Sunday morning, due to some extreme snoring in one of the rooms were were sharing. We gathered around the table and ate and talked some more. Jackie, Scott, and I had talked about hiking to another peak on Sunday, but a combination of laziness, tiredness, and sore muscles kept us sitting until it was time to hike back down the mountain to catch the bus home again.

All in all, it was an excellent weekend. Mega kudos to Jackie for pulling it all together. While she was the only person there whom I knew before this weekend, I feel like I left with several new friends. The weather was beautiful, and the views from the ridge were amazing.

On our walk through the town to the national park, we passed this man and his performing monkey. I felt sorry for the monkey.The 33-meter bronze buddha at Beopjusa:At the mountain hut--EMH talking and everyone looking annoyed. Oh no!From the hermitage, almost at the ridgeline:The hike to Cheonhwangbong at 1058 meters:Dinner:Representing 5 countries, here is the whole crowd, minus 1 who got an early start down the mountain:On our way back down:While we were waiting for the bus, there was this old man blowing on a single-note pipe whistle like a little kid. He just kept blowing and blowing on it, making a lot of annoying noise but nothing even close to a tune. I was amused.