I woke up today almost jittery with nervousness for my start at the new job. The night before, while out exploring my neighborhood, I passed a tank full of live eels ready for service at one of the many restaurants. The eels coiled and wound around one another into a tangled knot of seething, writhing flesh. That pretty much sums up the state of my stomach when I contemplated the first day.
Not so much the kids. Kids, I can handle. I figured worst case scenario they’d sleep through my lesson, and, well, I can handle that. But I was worried about the staff. I still had visions of the frightening Korean principal dancing my head.
I hadn’t met any of my coworkers, and I was coming into the middle of the school year. It’s a hard and scary thing to place yourself in that situation! What if they hated my lesson plan? They thought I wasn’t pulling my weight? Basically, I was feeling the twin pressures of being both the new guy and a stranger in a strange land.
Nevertheless, no way around it, so I put on my big boy britches, grabbed my umbrella, and set off into the gray rain of Gwangju’s morning. I slogged up the main path, dodging puddles and the occasional car, for about 20 minutes, until I reached the school. A bit of probing found the main vehicle gate, then I followed another teacher in and just sort of wandered around until my coteacher came to get me.
Now, I’m not going to go into a blow-by-blow of the day. But, apart from the projector sparking and exploding in my last class, I think the day went well! At one point I flashed up a map of South Korea overlaid on Missouri, when one precocious little brat decided to point out that Dakdo was missing.
Now, obviously I don’t care about a tiny stupid island in the Sea of Japan, nor do I care whether it’s the East Sea or the Sea of Japan. But! I remembered my training. I had been warned to expect two things:
1)To be asked, “Do you like kimchi?” The correct answer is “Of course!” And to be fair, I do.
2)”Dakdo Korean territory!” The sharp-eyed among you may notice that this is not actually a question. Nevertheless, I knew the correct answer expected of me: “Dakdo Korean territory!”
I told the child more or less the same thing, in simpler words*. This was deemed acceptable by the natives and I was not driven out of school on a rail (Is that a Korean thing? That’s not a Korean thing). It turned out that there IS no principal at the moment, because a new one is coming, which means when he arrives in a week or two HE’LL be the new guy, not me. And my coteachers are all very kind people! Two studied in the UK and America and speak excellent English, and one kindly shepherded me through the lunch line and coached me on how to eat Korean lunch (kimchi, seaweed soup with mushrooms, rice and beef, a literal fruit salad, and a delicious spicy fruit punch). And they thought the lesson was great.
So, phew. Day One down. Yet another hurdle in the rearview mirror, joining a long line that stretch back clear to January at this point. Some days I’m pretty sure I was insane to do this. But then I glance out my big picture window at a totally alien land and I remember why I came. I can see myself being happy here.
Now, if I can just figure out how to order at a Korean restaurant…
*Can I just say that simplifying and slowing my language is a job and a half? I speak at a mile a minute and I love to use a huge variety of words. I delight in choosing exactly the proper sound and nuance of meaning for the effect I want. Here I’m reduced to speaking like a 5th grader. I’m wasted in this country.
Gwangju Dreaming 