An Eventful Thursday

To the non-Korean speaker, Korea can be downright perplexing. Teaching at a public school is like playing a linguistic roulette of responsibility. You never know if the news is going to be good (You mean class was canceled this period? I guess I can deal with that!), bad (Wait, you mean I have to teach a special 2-period class in 10 minutes?), or simply befuddling (We make pee-pee-tee*???). Living life/your job so moment to moment can make things interesting, which is sometimes a euphemism for frustrating, which is sometimes code for “zone out now, smile and nod.” At times, it can also translate into awesome. *"ppt" means powerpoint.

That is why, if:

(1) Your entire arsenal of Korean vocab consists of, “Please give me (fill in food type),” “Nice to meet you!” and “Where’s the bathroom?”
(2) You need to do more than order kimbap, bow politely, or pee urgently, and
(3) The people around you either speak no English, are too shy to speak English to you, or do speak English but never utilize verb tenses (“We prepare lesson for the Wednesday. Yes?” …Does this mean the lesson was already prepared? I should prepare a lesson right now? We are going to prepare a lesson on Wednesday? For Wednesday?)

You just need to learn to just go with the flow.

So when you arrive at school one Thursday and your co-teacher reminds you, “You go to mountain with the furs,” you nod your head. After lunch, when you discover that you are leaving school early to go climb a mountain with the fourth (“furs”) grade teachers and then go for dinner and will get home around eight, you just count your blessings that your heels aren’t stiletto, grab your bag, and roll up your sleeves.

And what an eventful Thursday it turned out to be.

While I changed from my indoor shoes to my boots (in Korea, you wear one pair of shoes exclusively indoors and a different pair for going outside), the other teachers change into jeans and gym shoes. I follow them outside as they scout out a patch of dirt/bushes behind the school where we can pose for a group picture – proof that we all went to the mountain (they asked for my input, "Do you think is this mountain look like enough?"). With proof of our team-building mission digitally captured, half the teachers leave with a big smile and a “Peace-out.” (I don’t speak Korean, but I am pretty sure this is what they said). Then me and 2 other teachers get into a car and head to a mountain by Dathan’s school. I’ll post pictures if I can get them from one of the teacher’s camera.

Luckily for me, “climbing a mountain” turned out to be driving to the top of a mountain and then climbing some stone stairs to get a better view. There was a colorfully painted Buddhist temple on one level overlooking Anyang and a giant bell that you swung a log at to ring (I did not swing the log). Also, people stack piles of rocks on top of each other all around the path – if your rock stays, you get to make a wish. If you topple the previous people’s rock-wishes over, a ghost will come and kill you in your sleep. Well. I made that last part up. And I also made a wish.

When we get back in the car, my teachers ask me if I have ever seen Dathan’s school. They apparently were very curious and excited to see who my “fiancé” was . I say no and off we drive, up another base of a mountain on an adventure to see Dathan. And I’m getting paid for this! On the way, we play chicken with a cement truck and narrowly make it through a 2-way street barely big enough for one. On arrival, no one knew quite what to do, as there were many doors and no one around. After studying an assortment of “Beware of Spider” signs in the school bushes (with pictures of scary black and yellow spiders poised to bite) we bypass several chained doors and make our way up to the office. They direct us to a different floor and behind door number one is a surprised Dathan and an effusive Korean teacher who is beside herself with enthusiastic greetings. Apparently they wanted the scoop on this “fiancé” of his as well. On our way out, the teacher runs after us and starts shouting down the hallways, “HANNAH!!! HANNAH!!! BALLY BALLY HANNAH!!!” (“bally” = “Hurry!”). I am suddenly surrounded by every teacher within screaming distance, a swarm of faces peering curiously at me and speaking at the same time. After a few awkward minutes, we jetted.

Next stop: Korean dinner somewhere by a lake with a great view of golden fields and lots of whitewashed walls. They sat me near the other teachers that could speak a little English, but mostly everyone talked full throttle over my head while I sat and ate my kimchi. Apparently they were all gossiping about one of the vice principals whom no one likes. He says bizarre things to them and is mean and they all had shocking stories to tell, complete with gasps, clucking remarks, and wild gesticulations, but I couldn’t understand a word! Except for "Chronika!" ~ which means "That's what I'm saying" ...and I had no idea what that might be in the first place! One teacher tried to explain to me that he had called her not a human, or like animal. (I think she meant barbarian?). But I couldn’t understand anything else…Also, that he is smart and knows what brands they wear and what their car model is and so they try to avoid him. That’s all I got though.

The high/low point of dinner was when one older teacher (who reminds me of a much more energetic and I think well-meaning but slightly-violent version of my friends’ Puerto Rican grandma) starts raising her voice (and she always half-shouts to begin with) and turns to me pointing wildly right in my face and BELLOWING God-knows-what in Korean. I had been zoning out and was too taken aback to do anything for a second. Finally I ask someone what on earth she was saying. Apparently, she had been telling a story about sickness and was informing people that cancer is very strong. So strong it can kill you (pausing for dramatic effect). And did you know, if you die of cancer, it is so strong it lives on in your body. DID YOU KNOW THAT?!!! CANCER CAN LIVE IN YOUR DEAD BODY!!!!! DID YOU KNOW? …is what she was bellowing. She regularly does things like this and I try to avoid her now.

They dropped me off around 9.