Two Lives

I've come to realise that I have two lives now, far and distant between, both populated with people I love and care about. Both filled with ambitions and desires, the paths of which intertwine and weave, criss crossing through and around memories. Memories of friends, memories of family, memories that I wish would remain forgotten and memories I fight to hold onto. And amidst all of this I find myself asking the same question that has haunted me all my life, who am I?

I called mother, and I called sister - hear me, listen to me, love me. This is all I want, all I need. Validate me. I call mother because she's easy in the way's mothers must be, but also because that validation and love is priceless, in the same way that only a mother's can be. I call my sister because her's is harder to come by, too caught up in adolescent self concern. I don't blame her, she's growing and needs the care more than I. I hope that in the middle of my own self interest, I managed to give her some.

I'll repeat again that teaching is the hardest thing that I've even undertaken. There is just too much to care about and too many lives to invest yourself in. If you have 530 students and invest just a fraction of your self into each of those, then how much do you leave for yourself?

When your life is split into two, divided each way by a mere 8200 kilometers, how do you bridge that divide without dividing your self?

The First Time I Cried - A Collection of Experiences, Pent Up, Bottled and Shaken

My eyes sore and my nose is blocked, mucus clogs my throat and makes it hard to swallow. Trails of salty tears run down my face, glistening in contrast to the dark patches and shallow skin beneath my eyes. Today marks the first time I cried, the first time my tears have fallen on Korea soil, and for what? Mounting pressure? Home sickness? Delayed culture shock? The inability to fulfill my own unrealistic, potentially impossible expectations of myself? Or perhaps it was just imagining seeing my family again, those that I do miss so dearly. Today, I feel utterly alone.

Really, the day wasn't that bad. This has been a build up, like steady rain and a rising river. No matter how gentle the rain, if the sun doesn't break, or doesn't break for long, the banks will eventually burst. Right now I am that river and my school, my struggles, they are the unrelenting storm. At the dawn of every week I'm faced with over 530 teens, all of whom I will only see once this week, for 50 minutes. In that 50 minutes I must motivate them, get them excited to learn a language that many of them never expect to use, (at least in the realistic and foreseeable future for a teen) build their confidence, teach them new expressions and give them an environment in which they can practice their English, and all of this whilst sticking to randomly selected textbook topics like 'Pluto, Whatever It Is, It is There' and 'FAQs About Oral Hygiene' - both useful AND fascinating. Why my Korean lessons haven't been based on these topics I simply don't know. Oh yeah, and the kids struggle with answering 'how are you?'.

Out of my 530 plus kids I'm emotionally attached to at least a quarter of them, these are the kids that have annoyed me, befriended me, are super smart, are troubled, are in love with me, disabled, really fat, really skinny, really beautiful and really ugly. Sorry if you're a normal kid guys, you're just not that memorable - but I'm trying. But you know what? It's killing me. You kids don't realise how much it hurts me when something is wrong, when you don't try, when you don't live up to your own abilities. With every triumph there is another sad tale.

I remember Minjae (민재) clearly, a bright young girl, pale faced and quiet. But I remember her for her smile, a smile I don't think many were privileged to see, a smile that made her face shine like the light of the universe was contained within her, a bursting to get out. When

I first met her though, she was a troubled girl, quiet and reluctant to participate. At first I picked on her, scolding her for a lack of interest and punishing her for passive resistance, that was until I saw the hurt on her face and realised the damage that I'd done. So we met after class and I asked for the real reasons, could she not understand me? No! She understood everything and that was part of the problem - she had lived in Russia for some time, spoke Russian, Korean and English to a reasonable degreee - she was bored and troubled and nobody seemed to care. So I apologised and offered to try and change things, to challenge her, and we left it at that. The next time I saw her was two weeks later at the sports carnival, she spotted me and called to me, bright and cheery. As I turned she snapped a photo of me and smiled, the universe smiled with her. Cheeky bugger, I snapped a photo of her back. Two weeks later she left school and I haven't seen her since. I was devasted. I know she's smart, I know this is best for her right now, I know that she'll be okay - but in my heart of hearts, I feel this - that we failed her. The school had failed that girl and it should never have been that way.

So my coteacher is late, he's starting to make a habit of this and we need to talk. Not that there's much coteaching happening, but every time I ask for input the responses are muted by the Korean way. I like to think I operate outside of the box and maybe this is part of the problem. This time around though, I notice him in the edge of my peripheral, filming me. When did this start and why? Knowing better than to embarrass him in front of the students I continue as if all is planned and I'm fully aware and the next thing I know, he's gone. I'm solo teaching - wtf? Now I don't mind this, this is fine. But I've got 33 kids who don't speak English well and no ready means for translation. The classroom internet has gone down, something I immediate attribute to his tinkering without telling me. (Another habit he has. I'm happy to admit that the English room is for all to share, but it's only my lessons which get done in there. In that respect, it's my territory and they can't expect to change things on me without telling me.) I make a mental note to discuss this with him, later discovering that he has left the school and is attending a conference. Ah, so now I know who is watching the video of me. Shame about the class, it was a poor lesson, shame about my appearance and teaching energy, I was tired and felt like shit. Thanks a lot, I'd just like to point out that I'd never do the same to you.

My life is filled with good people and good students, but through my own setting of unrealistic expectations, I remain destined to fail.

I'm in a dark place and the pent up emotions of my struggles are cascading down my cheeks.

I made a rule sometime ago that I would not publish anything to this blog if I were in the down stage of the cycle. Because life here is like that, like anywhere else, a cycle of ups and downs - only here life seems to be magnified a thousand fold. But to hell with that, it's time to be honest.

If you've read this much then thanks, a part of my Self not belongs to you, treat it well.

With love,

Baseball

Somehow you just get the feeling they got it right when it comes to baseball. Tired as hell and armed with little more than the baseball knowledge i learnt from the wii i simply hoped to have a good time. All doubts were instantly dispelled the moment the k-pop hit my ears. something was different. It is a tuesday night and the stadium is filled with the thunderous applause of thousands of paddle balloons clapping in unison. Each player and play has its own choerographed routine - but never fear, never fear! For the uninitiated there is the team cheer commander - jumping and prancing around the stage he leads the crowd in the cheer routines, guiding you to cheering success and fame! Oh and don't forget the mega hot cheer girls too. they're there to help sell the scene and bring sex into the equation - but don't for a minute think its in the vulgar and sex driven manner of Australian NRL. These girls have a purpose to their cheerleading and that makes all the difference, and the crowd digs it, but i already mentioned that didn't i?

I guess it's important too that baseball seems to be a pretty simple game and quick to catch onto. But really, the game is almost a footnote in the fun. At 7,000 won a ticket, get yourself along for a night you won't forget! Go Doosan Bears!

Teacher's Day

The school auditorium is packed and the cheers of nine hundred Korean teens fill the space, echoing and bouncing around the cavernous ceiling. But I think surely, something is wrong. There are no pop stars in the room, Girls Generation are not about to perform and the Big Bang couldn’t make it. No, the scenario is quite different – it is teacher’s day and the Principal has called to the stage. And the cheering? It’s all for me….

I wear a red carnation on my chest, pinned there earlier by a nervous third grade boy. As part of the ceremony select student’s present their teacher’s with a carnation, but that is all a distant memory now as I realise that every eye in the room, and all of the lenses, are focused on me.

The Principal manages to restore order, saying a few short words in Korean, and then he hands me the mic telling me ‘A few words, short’. “Crap!” I get as far as ‘Thank you ev…” before my amplified words are drowned in a of sea cheers and the more than occasional ‘I love you!’ It seems that somehow, I have become a star, although never in the way that I had imagined.

So the ceremony concludes and the madness continues. It’s photo time, and in Korea this is serious business! We head downstairs to the school entranceway where I am quickly accosted by the vice-principal. He takes my hand in a kind of high five grab, pulling me through the crowd and kissing the back of my hand twice, Roman style. ‘Brother’. Somehow the photo works out just as habit is seeming to suggest it, with me, the tall white guy, standing smack bang in the middle and in between, (but just behind) the Principal and Vice-Principal.

Today is ‘Teacher’s Day’, where children and parents give thanks to their teachers. In many cases gifts are given but mostly, students should write letters of thanks to their (favourite) teacher(s). In South Korea the day has a long tradition, both students and teachers enjoy a shorter day and the atmosphere allows for a lot of bonding between students and teachers. Being teacher’s day I couldn’t help but give some thought to those teachers who were so influential in my life. Mrs. Dagg, the economics teacher who lent a sympathetic ear when I needed it, Miss. Figures, who taught me (through her frustration at how little I applied myself) that teachers actually cared about you and of course Mrs. Ireland, with the exception of my mother, the most influential woman in my life. Even today I attribute every success to confidence and attitudes she bestowed upon me. She is my inspiration and driving force behind becoming a teacher and I am a far better person for having known her.

So now that the formalities are over the party heads to a local Japanese restaurant for lunch, courtesy of the student’s parents. It’s set menu, sushi, sashimi, Korean wine and soju. I’m seated next to the Vice-Principal and opposite the Principal, and somehow, I get the distinct feeling I’m sitting with ALL of the school’s royalty. The Principal makes a quick toast and the teachers all chant something in response to the school name. I wish I knew what they actually said, but it sounded more like a war cry.

I won’t describe all of the oddities of lunch because it would take a lifetime to recount and I’m unlikely to do the situation justice. But there were a few worth recounting.

Sometime into the meal the vice-principal disappeared from our table, but as I was seated with the Principal I had no opportunity to go and find him, that is until I excused myself to the bathroom. ‘Andy! COME HERE!’ – the now familiar cry greets me from another room. The cry is loud and one that you wouldn’t dare refuse, but it is neither command nor request, it is somewhere in between. Drinking with the Vice-Principal commences, one shot, two shot, three shot, more. ‘Best teacher?’ he asks me, pointing to himself and referring to our golfing lessons. ‘Yes, really excellent teacher.’ I nod and smile. And then he disappears again. Later, Mr Kim helps explain the situation, it seems the Vice-Principal thinks of me somewhat as his son, who apparently, I either resemble or remind him of. It’s sweet, but is a new kind of feeling for me. Mr Lee offers his own interpretation on the situation. 'Today is teacher's day, but it seems that today, it is really your day.' Try as I might I cannot deny that the feeling is right, my day? No. But I certainly know where he is coming from. We all share in a wedding ceremony, yet we know who's day it is. And today, well yeah - Mr Lee had the feeling right.

Heading back to the Principal’s table I meet the Vice-Principal again and he calls me into the bathroom with him. He embraces me in a hug and more details emerge. ‘학생…’ (students…) ‘students you 사랑해요’ (the students love you) ‘So, I 사랑해요.’ (and so, I love you too). I can tell that he means it, and just to make sure, he reminds me one more time that I am a ‘excellent teacher.’ I guess the cheers at the ceremony must have gotten to him, but then again, it got to me to. Well, actually, the whole day got to me a little bit – am I teacher? In truth, I don’t feel like a teacher, I just feel like some kid who shows up everyday, masquerading as something he’s not, hoping nobody catches him. It’s like I have the model of what I should, I know what I’m trying to be, but the manual they gave me was written in Greek. And then sometimes, just sometimes, something happens and I feel a connection with someone, with a student, and I wonder, just maybe, just maybe I am becoming… or maybe I have become? One day, I hope this will be true.

A letter to my family

To my family,

Yesterday officially marked the two month point for my stay in South Korea and whilst it has had its ups and downs you can rest assured that I am still thoroughly enjoying myself. Teaching is still proving to be the greatest challenge of my life and I am certainly missing the love and support of my family. Hopefully you’re all doing very well.

At school I seek to connect with every child whom I teach. Some have claimed this is an unachievable goal but I still dispute this. My theory goes that if I can find the individual in each child and remain responsive to their needs I should be able to develop connects with each child, and hopefully, earn their respect and dedication to my subject. As with everything in my teaching, the language barrier proves to be a constant and significant challenge.

Something I do find in my favour is the lack of any significant age difference between my students and I. It seems easier for me to gain the respect and trust of my students, as many are able to look up to be as an older brother. My ethnic differences add and build on this and hopefully, my eccentricities will add further to create a person they are constantly interested in. Every day I am reminded of Caitlyn as my youngest students are the same as her, they are a mere 9 years my junior and my oldest, are only 7. With the advantages this creates there are also some inherent challenges too, notably that of the alpha male and pack leader. Whilst this happens in any classroom with a teacher of any age and sex, there are a few students who seem to have noted my young age as something worth challenging. However, so far I believe by playing firm but fair, these students too are giving up the fight and being to come over to my team.

Every morning I wake to the most sickeningly sweet ‘good morning’ melody played from my phone. Sometimes I think everything in Korea is super cute. It is the crack of dawn, 05:50 am and the (relatively) quiet and very sleepy suburb of Bokjeong is still for the most part fast asleep. Eating as quickly as my sleepy body allows I rush to school, unshowered but shaven, to meet Gyo-gam-seon-saeng-nim, Vice Principal in the golfing nets below the school. One of the many curiosities of my school is the golfing nets and relatively spacious gym located in the school’s basement. The best theory I have so far is that they were commissioned by the vice principal inorder to fuel his love of golf, however their true age is unknown to me. The students are fortunate enough to receive golf lessons as far of their curriculum should they choose, pretty cool really.

Now Gyo-gam-seon-saeng-nim is the exact image of what you would imagine a vice principal to be. Firm and unyielding in his decisions, sailing the ship between rocky waters and ensuring the crew arrives safely. He is an intimidating man with a kind heart. The kind that has grown wise over years of supporting and nurturing scared and insecure youth. Over the last three weeks I’ve developed a deep respect for the man who has now become my golfing instructor. That’s right, I’m now learning to play golf.

The idea was not mine, but Gyo-gam-seon-saeng-nim’s. He had discovered during one of our ‘teaching the teachers’ classes that I had no knowledge of golf and he insisted to take me for a quick lesson. Unable to refuse without insulting the man I went with him, a little excited but mostly terrified. Golf is something I have wanted to learn ever since my first lesson with my father, which I can remember didn’t go too well. We were on the driving range at Morisset golf course, my heart was racing and my body shaking, finally I was getting to know my father, taking part in the sport which makes up a seventh of his life. (Every Saturday, rain hail or shine.) But I was unable to successfully follow anything dad said, I was too excited, too terrified. I suppose it may be true that the worst person to teach a son may be his father. The father sees his son, made in his own image and he desires nothing but the greatest for him, that his is a success, a winner and the greatest. That he is everything the father is and more, and so the father enters the lesson with an impossible dream. Conversely the son enters the equation hoping for nothing but a safe escape from the dangerous situation. Even to a teen, even to an adult, your father is your dream, your father to some extent is like god. Pleasing him will validate your worth, displeasing him will trigger childhood insecurities. Nothing is worth more to a son than to hear words of praise from his father. And so with such high stakes riding on such a simple event, is it any wonder that it ended so terribly? Frustration mounted quickly, these fears aside I was terrified of damaging my father’s beloved clubs. I can’t remember the rest too clearly, but I think we left quickly and without much success on my behalf. We’ve never golfed together since.

So what began as a casual lesson with gyo-gam-seon-saeng-nim has quickly ballooned to daily sessions at 7:00am before school. This has since expanded to include a half of my lunch break each day, although we may have reigned this one back a little (time will tell.) Much of our instruction involves sign language and repositioning me like a manikin, my Korean is terrible and gyo-gam-seon-saeng-nim’s English is not much better. However my lessons seem to be progressing well and other teachers have remarked of his fondness for me.

After a successful swing it’s not uncommon to hear shouts of “GOOOOD SHOT!”, failure to ‘cork’ my wrists properly will result in the most distressed (and loud) “NOOO CORKING!” I have ever head. There have been two occasions now where he has produced candy from his pockets and stuffed one into my mouth following a ‘baek (100) percent shot’. Although the vice-principal is reason enough to continue these lessons I’ve never once forgotten my father during my time in the golf nets. This blog post was originally meant to be an email to my father, but, proving more difficult to write than I realised it has evolved into this. I’ll send dad the link and hopefully he will read this. It’s important that he does, because I’m continuing these golf lessons with the dream of one day soon playing a full game of golf with him. One in Korea, and one at the home ground of Morisset, as soon as I return to Australia.

This may sound childish but I hope you’re all proud of me. I know what you’ll say in response to that but I wanted to write it anyway because I’m missing you. I’m missing Caitlyn’s smile and the grumpy faces she pulls when I tease her, I’m sorry about that, it might not be fair but its always so funny. I’m missing Daniel and his constant invention of new and increasingly destructive toys, I wish we had gone to shoot arrows together. I’m missing Timothy and the adventures we’ve began to have, you should come to Korea so we can hit the crazy night scenes here. I’m missing you too Mum, I’m missing your cooking but most of all I’m missing your hugs, your smiles and your kind ears, for listening when I just won’t shut up. And Dad I’m missing you most of all, because we’ve started to connect more these days and I want that to continue and I want to hear about your past, and most of all, I want to have those rounds of golf with you and a beer at the pub afterwards. Once I’m good enough the vice-principal has promised to take me to the golf course on the American military base in Seoul. With some luck, we’ll be able to play our first game together there too.

Thanks for reading everyone, I know this has been a long one.

Much love to you all.

G'day everyone and welcome to the blog. Tuesday marks two months of living and working in South Korea and I have to say that at times it feels like I've been here a lifetime. Life is busy and growing busier - the life of a teacher is not an easy one, although it is already proving exceptionally rewarding.

As I mentioned already this post comes almost two months into a long and eventful journey, so rather than fretting about what has already happened I'll be focusing on what is recent, relevant and upcoming. Having said that, a short introduction is in order.

I teach high school English in the south eastern most corner of Seoul, the capital of South Korea. My background is in broadcasting, not in teaching and prior to arriving here I had no teaching experience save a short online TESOL course. TESOL stands for 'Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages' and frankly, the certificates are not worth the paper they are written on.

Teaching has thus far been trial by fire and every lesson has been completely experimental. Lesson activities have ranged from some of the most bizarre games I've been able to imagine to fits of frustration resulting in periods of 'listen and repeat' readings from their textbooks. I make no claim to be the greatest teacher, I only claim that I am giving it the greatest effort that I can and I hope that that will be enough.

A source of constant amusement for the is the rock star status that I'm still finding myself privileged to receive. Students greet me with enthusiasm in the hallways and on the streets. The boys scream 'high-five', 'i love you', 'nice guy' and 'handsome guy' - the girls just scream and leave me gifts of tea, chocolates, drawings and love letters. Is this what fame undeserved feels like? I'm just me and have done nothing special yet to given all of this special treatment, well - its strange. It would be easy to let it go to your head.

Moving away from school comes some of the insanity and magic of Korea. Yesterday we journeyed to the magical land of 'Everland' - a theme park just to the south of Seoul. The weather as looking grim and the day was marred by drizzling rain from around mid-day onwards and two of three roller coasters closed for annual maintenance. (The third was later closed due to bad weather) But having said that the day was still a magical day of fun, our first stop was the 'T Express' - the steepest wooden roller coaster in the world with a jaw-dropping drop of 77 degrees! By far one of the most exhilarating roller coasters I have ever been on, out ranking Movie World's 'Superman Escape' by far. (Thrills and length, the ride lasts around 2 minutes!)

The 'T-Express', foreground is 'Holland Village'

Wandering the park I encountered a strangely aggressive teddy bear mascot who for some reason seemed to want to fight me. He had spotted a small stuffed teddy bear protruding from my jacket pocket and took this as an excuse to get started. So that got weird very quickly and he then got very friendly with Shirley, a little too friendly - in my opinion confirming that it was a guy inside.

This is the teddy bear that started it all.

By the end of the day we were all exhausted, having Safaried, Rollercoastered, Spun, Flipped, Dodgemed, Shot Ghosts, been in a 4D adventure and a rotating house. The only thing left to do was to have one more crack at a surprisingly addictive basketball game. I guess it helped that I realised I was pretty good at it. Earlier that day I had given my teddy bear away to a group of elementary school girls waiting in line at a rollercoaster. It seemed like we were the only westerners in the park and as usual were the subjects of great attention and many stares. The girls had to 'Ga-wee, Bah-wee, Boh' (scissors, paper, rock) for it but I think it may have made their day. They are so curious about westerners and I love being the nice, kind westerner.

Anyway, within seconds of me approaching the basketball machine I had a crowd of kids around me, curious to see the tall westerner in action. After pounding basketball after basketball through the hoop I was awarded another teddy bear, which I promptly turned to the children and gave away to a cute little girl. It looked like she could hardly believe that this was actually happening to here, I had to give it to her. But now I had started a riot - oh okay, I'll play again... (more children gathering...) Each new toy was followed my a round of Ga-wee, Bah-wee, Boh and a lucky winner walking away with a stuffed bear or big stuffed love heart. Our final round saw myself, Maria and Ed all played simultaneously and more prizes awarded to the children. For me, this was the absolute highlight of the night and I would've happily stayed there another hour if we didn't have to leave.

Will I do Everland again? For sure! And if the roller coasters are out of action, you'll know where to find me - look for the crowd of children and the basketball machines.

Below 1: Maria, Dave & Lexi boarding the Pirate Ship

Below 2: Everland at night, right before I had a total wipe out as I left in front of Lexi's camera when she was trying to take a very similar picture. I deserved the wipeout...