4 weeks down

I feel incredibly awkward--or rather moreso, here in Korea. My mother called me this morning before work and asked how the job was going. I told her that it was okay--and I suppose it is--but that many students were shy, that I have to teach a group of 7 and 8 year old monsters and that I feel uncomfortable on Tuesdays and Thursdays under the scrutiny and pained expressions (I hope it's not me...) of the mothers' class--a group of women in their early 40s prone to absenteeism, bitchiness and a complete unwillingness to participate. When asked to read out loud, the woman at the first desk simply shook her head and said 'No.' After that, none of the others would either--I guess a sort of precedent--the stigma of being called on--was sort of established in that first class 4 weeks ago (I cannot believe it's nearly been a month and that I'll soon--finally!--be getting paid.). The class has been difficult to teach ever since. I always have to allow them to read aloud together, which makes it far too difficult to hear how well or badly everyone is pronouncing certain words--which of course means I can't single anyone out, correct them and thus, help them learn...and I want them to..It's just frustrating...

But yeah, honestly, on that first class that I taught alone on my second day at work, after Rob, the guy I replaced, left, I was so sick (I had a cold for about a month), could barely speak, and I had the incredibly paranoid sense that I was being mocked by this group of housewives who were ignoring me and speaking amongst themselves in Korean. Finally (perhaps my begging them to 'please try' sounded pathethic enough in myy scratchy, coughing, jetlagged voice), I could hear one voice actually applying some effort over the 3 or 4 others' mumbling incomprehensibly. The voice belonged to a woman calling herself the obviously anglicized name 'Sue'--I have a real problem pronouncing all my students names well--and they don't all choose English names--generally only the younger kids have them (although I have two middle school boys who've chosen to be called 'Lobster'--he thinks it sounds like 'rockstar'-- and Ringo, which are dumb names to be sure, but at least memorable..) Anyway, Sue is the strongest in my mothers' class, was the first to arrive that first teaching day, and essentially was the only participator in class. The others arrived 15 and 25 minutes late for the 1 hour class and I had to re-introduce myself and explain (for the 3rd time) the point of what I was trying to teach them (possibly Wh-Questions, but who knows at this point).

The lady who was 25 minutes late, a very chic looking woman with obvious talent in the make-up applying department, had also forgotten her book...Knowing that I'd been in Korea for all of three days at the time and didn't know a word of the language (I'm borrowing a language CD from someone, because I am so frustrated at not being able to make my point across and always having to go places with other people--or at the very least my sacred Lonely Planet phrasebook), these horrid women would more than occassionally start chatting loudly, talk into their fucking cellphones, and simultaneously break out laughing--at my expense I'm certain...I guess to them I am just some stupid Western girl who looks too young to be teaching anyone let alone a group of married women...Age is VERY important here, as it determines social ranking--everyone asks me how old I am...I don't like it). I felt like utter shit by the end of that first hour. I suppose I'm used to it, but I think it maybe just hurt a little more this time because I was trying really hard to look like the sort of person who should be teaching--a cheerful, patient, diligent type who is unconditionally understanding, perhaps? In Canada, I am none of these things.

In Canada, I rarely smile, hardly make eye contact and never wear color. In Canada, if I leave my house at all, I am always in a rush, never satisfied, and am proudly antisocial. Here, I am just not able to be any of these things. I can no longer use angst as my excuse, which is miserable, as it is my favorite one. haha. No, I guess, so far this experience is making me examine myself even more (yes, it's horrid, even more self-scrutiny--I'm not sure if it's healthy). I'm trying to determine which parts of my personality are legitimate and which parts are just part of the persona I'v assumed...So far, a month later, I can honestly say that I still feel just the same, but am realizing my acting potential (that is--I am not really a patient, calm, organized, 'together' person and I like wearing black for fuck's sake--but for the sake of my job, I will pretend to be a little different)--and I am becoming more sociable--or maybe that's just the Prozac...or the soju...I've been to some good parties at this point, in any case. I've met some interesting (mostly drunken at the time, however) other foreign (Canadian, American, British, Australian, Irish) teachers and a few English speaking Koreans...I guess I'll just say that I've singled out a few people who are more interesting than the others, and somewhat (though not quite) likeminded..It is with these people that I socialize with, mostly. Because without them, I would probably have yet to have seen or done anything outside of the street I live and work on (I've been taken into a different area of Metropoliton Seoul every weekend so far--I plan to go to a museum soon--I have a guidebook and I have actually become brave enough to attempt the subway system on my own without getting hopelessly lost (got there and back--to Yongsan--without incident on Saturday.

Anyway, it's been pretty surreal for me so far. Everyone stares at me, some giggle, lots of guys my age like to say hello..I wonder if the older people resent my presence in their country--outwardly they are very hospitable and polite, but I must admit, I can see where they're coming from--Why should they have to learn English? Although Bucheon does admittedly have plenty of foreigners, walking to and from work everyday, I am the only western-looking face on the sidewalks--when I am brave enough to walk them...Scooters, motorcycles and bicycles all ride on the tiny pedestrian walkway (where vendors are also selling fish, vegetables, chestnuts, etc) and the drivers are really quite unapologetic about very nearly running a person over.

Anyway, you all know I am a paranoid person...Koreans are pretty nice when I try to speak to them directly--sometimes they appear a little too eager to help me perhaps--it makes me wonder if their smiles are somewhat deceptive. Are they smiling because they think I am strange to look at--I often catch little children at my school,who I don't teach, peeking over the frosted glass window of the teacher's room where I hide out when not in class. Maybe younger kids have never seen anyone who looks like me.. So far, though I've obviously taken out the facial jewelry, the holes in my ears and face have been counted, and the issue of 'teacher's face' has created quite the ruckus among my 12-14 year old girls--one in particular (Jin Sun) who keeps telling me that I am 'so beautiful' and that she is ugly and needs to get plastic surgery (it's a big thing here, apparently and I notice it a lot in women) on her face--she says her mother told her she needed to 'change it'--particularly her eyelids (or lack of them) and her nose. Apparently plastic surgery is common here, especially for eyes, because Korean women like to emulate their favorite actresses and pop stars, who of course are not totally outside of the lure of that comparitively young evil--the West.

Anyway, things are getting better than when I first got here..I stayed in today (Sunday), however, because I've just been feeling a little depressed the last few days. I'm not sure the anti-depressants are really helping me, but I'll keep taking them I guess. It's bad, I guess, when you reach the other side of the world and still no real sense of happiness or joy is palpable. I am still victim to all my bad habits, unfortuantely and I struggle to keep my thoughts and my commitments and my obssesive little behaviours separated. Lately, when I am at home and inside, I even forget where I am. I could be anywhere, really, and still be the same. Sleeping is particularly strange for me here and I dream a lot. I've been talking in my sleep a great deal as well and I tend to wake myself up drenched in sweat (but I was told that night terrors would be a side-effect to my pills). I guess I'm a little stressed out with what's recently been going on at home with my parents and court and being filled in on all the gory details of my father's further descent into insanity and scariness. My mother thinks he may have had a stroke. Maya, being Maya, wrote a short, traumatic little story about our lovely homelife as children and wants me to illustrate it--which I will--I have bought art supplies and have done a few sketches--once I feel a little more comfortable---It's incredibly hard to follow everyone's advice and "move on" when they all keep rubbing my nose in it on a daily basis...The nightmares don't help either...More later.