Filed under: NaBloPoMo, host brother, life progress, okay seriously Korea, skool, students, teaching, volunteering
There is a single 모기 (mosquito) who, despite ample opportunities to escape, has been flying around my room for the past few nights, biting me when I’m asleep. Essentially, this mosquito’s entire diet, at this point, consists of my blood. I can’t handle that much commitment. Also, these bites itch. I forget about it until it flies by my ear, its whine causing my blood to slowly boil. </haterade>
Recaps: I FINALLY got 1K to behave, totally by accident. This kid was making fun of the way I talk to the class – and I do hate slowing my speech down, even though it is rather necessary – so, in a fit of pique, I taught them at approximately 80% of the speed I speak to my friends. Which, to put it in layman’s terms, is around 110% the speed of the average American speaker. They listened. The whole time. They weren’t exactly angels, but they did pay more attention than they have for weeks. Maybe they’re really smart and were just bored? I guess stranger things have happened.
Also, I’d like to deliver a short ode to HBBFF, or Host Brother’s BFF, who showed up at our door yesterday around 45 seconds after my family called him to invite him over for ddeokbokki. HB and HBBFF have a sort of Pinky-and-the-Brain-esque relationship, wherein HB is the Brain and HBBFF is the hapless Pinky. For example:
IGR: HB, would you like to play a game?
HB: I will kill you.
IGR: Right. HBBFF, do YOU want to play?
HBBFF: Of course!
HB: Shut up, no you don’t.
HBBFF seems to like a few things, like me, and HB, and computers, and eating. I.e., he is the sort of person to whom one can offer food and have him show up 45 seconds later.
Tomorrow: Seoul for a number of exciting things, including an interview for an internship and dinner with my Korean teachers from The Program. Today I skipped out on the afterschool program – I have GOT to organize my time better on Thursdays, because as it stands I have five classes and RIGHT after the last one I have to head down to City Hall or I’ll be late, even though I’m exhausted. In retrospect, Thursday wasn’t the best day for me to volunteer, but it’s too late now. I wasn’t feeling well and I was running late and, unsurprisingly, I found myself trying to rid myself of a headache, lying in bed and watching “The Office.” (Side note: I <3 Creed.)
It should not have come as a surprise to find out that two of my worst first graders – Eun Jeong and Mi Yeon – have, respectively, a terminally ill mother and a terminally absent family, that Eun Jeong has been “absent love” for the past few years or so thanks to relatives who keep shuffling her around, as Mrs. Yoo described it tonight at the English teachers’ meeting. It may be a surprise to know that I started crying. But really, these sob stories are inevitable, an inherent part of the narrative of teaching. These things become cliche for a reason.
Miguk Oma asked me the other day why I always find myself with the hard-luck cases, the screamers and the outcasts and the ones who leave notes on my desk saying, “You are die [IGR]. Do you like sex?” I didn’t come to Korea to save anyone. I came here to take a break from doing the hardest work, and still, somehow, I found myself working with kids who remind me every day of Summerbridge Cambridge House E, of Maurice and Tonto and Brianna and Nadine and Charlene and Janine. I can’t even give them pseudonyms without cringing, that’s how real they still are, and how much these students – students who don’t even speak the same language – bring me back. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be in these places or if I subconsciously want to be here, hating myself for feeling so lucky.

