My diet has officially started....

Me: "Ok kids, your next spelling word for this week is bulky. Bulky means big, hefty and hard to carry. For example, my backpack was very bulky when I had all my text books inside. Who can use bulky in a sentence."

Little shit: "Jenni teacher is very bulky." **giggle giggle**

Me: "Everyone read quietly as I scrape my pride and self esteem off the tile with a pick ax."

Eclipse

Today I got to work and was bumming around the office. My boss Mr. Kim who speaks MINIMAL English and usually just nods in my direction as communication came up to me and said...

Mr. Kim: "You see sun."

Me: (Internal monolog, "honestly? it is 10 a/m of course I have seen the freaking sun") "Um-yes-I-saw-the-sun. Very-hot." While I fan myself for effect.

Mr. Kim: "You see moon?"

Me: (You've got to be kidding me!) "I-don't-see-moon. Too-much-pollution. I-have-not-seen-the-moon-in-3-weeks."

Mr. Kim: "You come me" gesturing for me to follow him as we walk to the window to stare at the sun while my retinas burn away. I still had no idea what he was getting at. Then he pulls out some colorful sheets of see through paper and holds them up to the sun and that is when I notice that there is a full blown eclipse in the process, hence the "you see sun" "you see moon"

Man, I felt like a dumb ass. It was pretty cool though, won't be seen again for 22 years!

Week two

Sometimes I find myself wondering how the hell I got into this nutty situation. Who finds themselves at the age of 24 in Korea teaching P.E to kids who speak a totally different language and a culture that is challenging in itself to understand. It is amazing and shocking at the same time. I wake up each day enthralled with the things I am to see. Couples wearing his and hers matching outfits, dead cats left in a box on your front steps, a fish tanks filled with live octopus and squids, men carrying purses, couples on the train checking each others molars, etc. I feel like I am in a completely different world and I love it. However I wish it was socially acceptable to wear a nose plug around town.

Along with their fanny packs (which still completely rock my world) everyone (Asian) wears face masks. Not just those surgical paper ones, they have them in all sizes (depending on how much of your face you want to cover) and in all different colors and fabric patterns!!! They sell them in all the pharmacies and quickie marts. You can get ones for kids with ducks or princesses on them. I feel like they probably use them as stocking stuffers at Christmas!!! My friend Courtney and I went for a walk along the river a few block from our apartments a few days ago. People were there riding bikes with both their fanny packs and their face mask! Double whammy!!! The pollution here is so bad it is probably healthier to wear those masks but who knows. While on our walk I also noticed that everyone has the same tiny, ugly, rat looking, white dogs. I asked Courtney why they all have the same dog and she said her students said "they are the only ones we don't eat!" I nearly died.

This week I was graced with a terrible, burning sore throat. Thinking it is either me getting used to new germs or something I picked up at mudfest I thought I could ride it out while I lived on a diet of O.J and cough drops. My tonsils then swelled up to the size of testicles which finally brought me to a doctor. Since my insurance hadn't come through yet I was sure it was going to cost a fortune but the entire appointment was only 8 bucks and the drugs were less than 20. I was completely amazed. Korea's have a better grasp on health care than we do apparently.

We have a weeks vacation next week and we are all heading to Jeju Island. Google image it and get jealous!!!!!!

Mudfest!!!!

Where do I begin? Lets put it this way. Mudfest is a massive festival held every year at the coast where everyone does anything you could possible imagine doing in the mud. There were huge blow up slides, obstacle courses, mud wrestling, waterfalls, pools, orgys, etc. Naturally everyone is covered from head to toe in mud, it is in your eyes, your ears and every other bodily place that mud could find its way into. We went with a group of about 20 people, most of us from our school and other friends. Our bus driver from school (who doesn't have a name, he just wants us to call him "bus driver") drove us all to the coast in one of our school buses. We all stayed in a two room condo a block from the beach and basically started drinking on the bus at 11:00 a.m. I would also like to add at this point that beer come in liter bottles here, which as it turns out, is also very helpful when you are in a huge pit of mud, mud on the bottle but the cap keeps the beer safe. So, we get to the condo, basically knockered, change into whatever we choose to get muddy and head to the festivities.

Upon walking I was mauled by a group of mud soaked guys announcing that I was "too clean" as they rubbed themselves all over me. I have never felt more welcomed in my life, it was like heaven. Hahah. So we spent the rest of the afternoon mud wrestling, swimming in the mud, occasionally heading into the ocean to clean off before heading back to the mayhem. We all returned back to the condo where showers were fought over and mud blanketed the floor boards. We all sat on the floor for dinner while meat and veggies were cooked over tiny korean grills on the floor. I think we all had more beer and soju then food. After dinner, drinking games were had as usual then for a midnight swim in the Sea of China to watch the firework show. Everyone pretty much passed out on the rock hard floor wherever they could find room. I had the great disadvantage of sleeping in the hallway but was well worth the three or four hours of sleep that we all had. The next morning was incredibly rough. The bus ride home was pretty silent as we were all nursing the same hangover. It was a sublime first weekend in Korea!!! Felt just like college again!!!

Taxi Cab Tales: Part One

Taxi cabs are a main source of transportation here. Not only do they cost mere dollars to ride in but you also enjoy the luxury of sitting in the front seat in order to see the world the way a cab driver does. Now being a foreigner I feel I tend to draw out the minimal English these wonderfully strange cab drivers can speak. These conversations also happen to be some of the more hilarious ones of my time here. I have also finally managed to properly say my address to the drivers after one man took an entire cab ride teaching me the exact phonemic approach "Shin gok ill dong sa muso." That is the extent of my Korean, here is the extent of their English.

#1

Taxi driver: :You American." (again nothing they say sounds like a question, just a simple factual statement meant to be followed up with an answer of sorts)

Me: (Nodding a bit too intensely as to deflect the whiplash I was receiving from his awful driving) "yes I am"

Taxi Driver: "Ahhhhh, you like kimchi."

Me: (gag reflex in place) "No, not yet." (I follow up with a giggle to make sure he understands I don't mean to insult their terd tasting wonder food)

Taxi Driver: "Ahhhhh, Korea like Kimchi, America like butter."

Me: Yup, that about explains it.

He then went into broken record mode for the remainder of the cab ride saying "American butter" over and over again. Kimchi would probably taste worlds better with some butter on it.

#2

Taxi driver: "You so beautiful."

Me: "Oh, thank you so much, you are very nice."

Taxi driver: "You have husband."

Me: "No, I am not married."

Taxi driver: "Ahhh, that very sad. Very sad, no married." (Thanks man, I appreciate the confidence boost)

Me: "Yeah, I guess so."

Then he proceeded to try to hold my hand the rest of the ride. I thought about letting him, just for kicks.

#3

Here I was with two friends who were in the back seat passing condoms between them while we laughed and joked about American verses Korean condom sizes. The cab driver couldn't see the traded contraband but as I started laughing at something he pointed to me and laughed really, really hard. This strange action made us all stop....

Me: "Do you speak English?" (We have all gotten into the bad habit of assuming that outside of school no one understands us)

Taxi driver: Blank stare

Me: Gesture to ear and mouth attempting to gesticulate what I am asking him.

Taxi driver: "No English." Then he goes into Korean mode while pointing to me.

Me: Turning to the girls in the back seat, still giggling about the possibility of overheard conversations. "What is he saying?"

My one friend who knows Korean fairly well figured out that he was laughing at my laugh and said he has never heard such a loud laugh before. Makes me glad that I can introduce Koreans to new things!!

Where the hell am I?

I used my first "squatter."

And then my second.

I wish I had just held it.

I also wish I had toilet paper.

School Week Survival

Well, week one complete, 51 to go.

Notes on Korea....

1. I have yet to decide whether it is better to breathe through my nose or mouth. The smells in the air remind me of pure sewage mixed with rotten animal carcass and a whiff of motor bike exhaust. Nose, mouth, it is gross either way.

2. I think I am going to start a Goodbye Kitty business. Hello Kitty is so successful, why can't I be?

3. Korean children have no bridge of their nose, watching them try to keep glasses on is sadly hilarious.

4. You cheat death every time you successfully cross a street.

5. If you don't know what you are eating thats probably a good thing.

6. I get pointed at all the time. I have no idea whether it is my boob size they are laughing at or my face. If I am wearing my massive sunglasses then I know it is the former.

7. Cab drivers will spend the entire cab ride teaching you the correct pronunciation of your address so you don't have to point to the spelling on a laminated cheat sheet.

8. Every so often a van comes by with billowing steam pouring out of the contraption on the back. Only after you breath in said steam do you realize that it is bug repellant, choke, keel over and die from poisonous gas inhalation. The neighborhood children love to run after the van and bask in the spray. I will find them dead on the corner someday.

9. Korean children think they know more about Full House then I do. Idiots.

10. I have become an expert on mumbling things that don't even sound remotely like thank you or goodbye but as long as I do it with a wee little bow of the head I feel genuine enough. Maybe I should start learning.

11. Everything outside looks the same. Maybe it is the writing on the buildings. I don't know. There are no indicators like "take a left at the starbucks." All I have to go from is the wall with the waterfall printed on it means I am within a 15 block radius of my home establishment.

12. People in department stores are trained to dance when particular songs come on the speaker. This I am determined to capture on video!

13. I am a master at gesticulating to get what I want. I also seem to talk with my hyphenated language skills, i.e "YOU-GO-WASH-HANDS-NOW" "YOU-WORK-I-SLEEP-IN-CORNER, DON'T-TALK-LOUD", you get the idea, apparently the kids do too. Sometimes.

14. Three year olds speak more English than my boss.

15. There is no such thing as dumpsters or garbage cans for that matter. Bags of trash are discarded on the sidewalk and street until someone decided to move them to another location (most likely the river that runs along my apartment.)

16. There are no Trader Joes in Korea. I asked.

17. You can kill 30 minutes of class time by showing kids American money. They were so intensely interested I am debating about repeating it next week.

18. Our copy machine is in Korean. I'm screwed.

19. My freaking 8 year olds have a cell phone and I don't.

20. It rains here. Monsoon weather they call it. Not sure what to expect.

My Invisible Husband

Any teacher will tell you that kids are OBSESSED with whether or not you are married. Usually in the States when I am asked this question, my non-marital status forces me to inform the curious ankle biter that I am not in fact married. I tend to get reactions such as "then how do you have a job" "but you're soooo old" "does this mean you live with your parents" from children with no verbal filter. One student wanted to hook me up with his newly divorced father and proceeded to call me his new step mother for the rest of the year. However I had one student today......

child: Jenni Teacher, you married. (I end with a period because he was in fact making a statement not asking the question)

me: Does it look like I have a wedding ring on? (I choose to formulate a question)

child: Your wedding ring is invisible.

me: (gesturing to my right hand side) Well yes, then I guess I am married and this here is my invisible husband who is an exact replica of Daniel Craig.

child: you married Michael Jackson (again, not sure whether question or statement)

me: You know who Michael Jackson is???? (shocked since he is about 6 years old, quite impressed as well)

child: YES!!!! He is this...(at this point he sucks his cheeks in and presses on his nose emulating the very essence of the king of pop)

me: (intense laughter mixed with a bits of spit as I was caught completely off guard) HA!

This is why I teach.

Mother of God, they have me teaching gym class!

So, I have officially been "Jenni Teacher" for two days now. Day one I observed two classes in the morning then had my own "second graders" in the afternoon. I am going to put this out there right now for everyone to hear/read/adhere to/ worship/ live/breathe/die for..... I have no plans to ever teach in a classroom with more than 8 kids. Sorry to say that means never returning to the United States. For all you teacher, you know where I am coming from on this. 8 report cards, 8 copies on the xerox, 8 parent teacher conference, 8, ocho, octo, 8. Nuff said. So, I am starting to feel semi good about this whole teaching in Korea business when they inform me that I have a new title, gym teacher. F#*k! Instantly I think of my wardrobe full of dresses, skirts, dress pants, flats, etc. It isn't until I have mentally processed the entire contents of my closet when I realize, how the hell do I teach gym? Luckily I come to find out that gym is only from 10-2 on tuesdays and thursdays. The other days, I am at the disposal of whoever needs me. Whatever, can't be that bad.

WRONG! I got to school today, dressed in some random ensemble of whatever matched my converse sneakers ready to embrace my new classroom gymnasium. I had no idea that gyms came with massive t.v, microphone podiums, plastic houses and tambourines. This will be interesting. The only "gym related" items were a deflated volleyball, dented hula hoops, plastic bats, a balance beam and some soft shapes you can bounce on. John, another teacher who was suckered into teaching gym for a month gave me a few ideas but all I could hear were my thoughts of playing duck duck goose until I get over the jet lag. My first class was a handful of 3 year olds who looked at me like I was some gross substance they saw on the sidewalk when I tried to talk to them. I gave up on the duck duck goose notion and opted for the hokie pokie instead until I get "no teacher, no more hokie pokie." The little shits didn't like my song and dance so I rewarded them with free time since the language barrier at their age is like trying to walk uphill, backwards, on your hands, in the snow. Duck, duck goose worked with the other classes until it turned into "doug, doug, jew." Something else to work on.

Asia and I have met at last.

Well I am here, finally. After all that hell I hope it is worth it. For now I shall define Korea as interesting. I feel COMPLETELY out of my element. I guess the first sign should have been the double decker 747 vessel that bought me here jam packed with 98% Asian's and 2% other (obviously I fell into the other category) Somehow I was placed right next to a fellow American who had the wild disadvantage of scoring a middle seat on a 12 hour flight. He was so cute I would have maybe considered offering to switch with him half way through if he hadn't thrown his ipod ear buds in at the first chance he got. Rude. Anyways, I fought through his attempts at not communicating with me and upon descending prodded him for information on his voyage to "the land of fanny packs" as I know choose to refer to it. We swapped life stories, family trees, blood type, hopes and dreams and in that conversation I discovered he too was coming over to teach as well. I would like to declare him a friend but we parted without exchanging any information.

After exiting my vessel we were slightly poked and prodded by the health officials then off to immigration where my problems really started. The "nice looking lady" who I thought would buy my story of "traveling" through Korea and the "thats an old Korean visa in my passport" bull shit, I was promptly taken to an interrogation room by a fancy dressed officer gentleman (he didn't have a fanny pack, probably not a true Asian) There I slammed down on an unsturdy aluminum table, white lights in my face as they searched my person for hash as I kindly asked for a glass of water and a cigarette. That would probably have made for a better story but really they just took me into the room, looked over my documents, questioned the hell out of me, tried to call my bluff and finally escorted me out of immigration after one too many bats of the eyelashes. Then I claimed my 3 tons of luggage, schlepped it onto a rolly cart, breezed through customs where I was met by a bouncy man pointing to a sign with my name on it and you guessed it, wearing a fanny pack!!!! He bounded up to me and I stuck my hand out to introduce myself to him, he looked from me to my hand, then did that again, then proceeded to shake my hand sideways like it was a chicken leg he has just dropped in the dirt and wished to continue eating. Then he body checked me away from my rolly cart so his chivalry could take over and he pushed my luggage about 20 yards until we met up with his "friend" fanny pack and all. His friend then took over the chore of sherpa and heaved my crap onto an elevator before distributing me to a cab driver who had pink gerbera daisy plastered all over the walls of his cab and cork boards on the floor. At this point I prayed to whatever God was closest that I was in fact the person they were expecting and they were sending me to the right place. These men did not speak a word of English I may add. The cab driver was a piece of work. He was operating a walkie talkie, cell phone, gps system, and driving a stick shift at the same time. I was impressed and shitting myself at the same time!!! At one point he (while driving) turned around to me in the back seat and started pointing to the trunk over and over again like he needed something from me. After much pointing I figured that he wanted me to pull down the arm rest compartment, which I did and he then started flapping his elbow at me like the was auditioning for the chicken dance. I guess he was pretty hell bend on me using his arm rest cause he finally stopped flapping when I used it. Crazy man. After an hour and lots of screaming in Korean into his walkie talkie I was then transfered into the much more welcoming and capable hands of three women from school. They took me to my apartment and were super sweet. My place is really tiny but I don't need much. My bed is a bit bigger than a twin but not as big as a double and harder than Hercules' ab muscles. I have a tiny kitchen, decent closet, washer (no dryer), desk, tv, a/c, stolen internet and the craziest shower ever. It is just a shower head in the middle of the bathroom so everything gets soaked when I shower. Oh well, it is all part of the experience. More to come.