Before I even walked into the 4-1 classroom, a tidal wave of smell slapped me in the face. There was an overwhelming stench of fresh excrement lingering in the hall which only increased upon my entrance into the classroom. At first, I thought someone had very impressive flatulence, and then remembered that I have the most impressive flatulence which was somehow still rivaled by the brown cloud swirling in the classroom. Maybe one of the dusty old sewage pipes that doesn’t inspire any confidence finally burst in the ceiling. As I stood behind the desk still holding my plastic file of textbook and class materials, the students looked at me…

I reached my limit with Helen’s homeroom class of 5-3 today. They didn’t recognize any of the warning signs that they were in dangerous territory, signs that every other class I’ve ever had has responded to immediately. I try to pause and then react when managing the classroom, and I don’t raise my voice, unless I’m trying to be heard over a speaking pairs game to signal the end. But 5-3 drove me to do something I haven’t done. I raised my voice at them. Class had been going on for 15 minutes, with incessant chatting from all corners of the classroom. Two boys switched seats back and forth as…

I returned to Seoul for a brief weekend getaway and was surprised how much more empathetically the city and I were able to meet each other. I met friends I haven’t seen since the Before Times and more importantly I paid tribute to a giant rubber duck. Like the most animal parts of ourselves, we flocked to the giant yellow monstrosity, ridiculing it but still ultimately showing up to gaze at its wonder. There was a kind dumpling man, a patient taxi driver that took us to a concert (whose accent I understood for once), London themed bagels because obviously that’s a London specialty, and an atmosphere of general ambitious,…

I visited the local dermatologist for my next shot. A month prior I tried to pop something on my forehead I absolutely shouldn’t have and ended up with an angry red infection and then swollen scar tissue. The receptionist, a sweet former high school teacher with excellent English, led me to the now familiar office and translated while the doctor gently poked at my face. “The bump is small now and another injection won’t do much. I think it’ll disappear on its own,” she translated for him. Aww. Well I guess I’ll have to just wait. There was a short discussion between the two while I sat on the spinning…

I finally tracked down Anthony after two weeks of attempts to give him his US gift. “Did you give this to everyone in the school?” He asked. “No, just a few,” I said, to his pleasure. We took a walk and were intercepted by teacher Kim who made a joke to Anthony about us walking together, after goofily sliding around the corner as if we couldn’t see him. We then went to look at the volleyball court to kill time and intercepted more teachers. I stood to the side pretending to be very interested in the lighting while the rest chatted at length in the hallway. After the other teachers…

“The other girls are good at studying.” Seoyeon, one of my debate girls, told me as she and another girl, Gahyun, led me to the vending machine at the high school campus. It was my second attempt; the first yielded shadowy abandoned hallways with no snacks in sight. “They’re smart. They always make the best grades.” She added. Gahyun nodded sympathetically. But then who were the two sweet girls taking me in an adventure to the vending machine? I scoffed. “Grades aren’t everything.” I told them, knowing how little their other talents might be valued in the environment of Korean high school that emphasizes endless studying and academic competition at…

I had to review the pronunciation of “delicious” with my fifth graders. I feel like I teach them phonics and then they work really hard to unlearn it, so we embark on a neverending cycle of practicing and then forgetting short vowels. Is it because once a week with me isn’t enough? Or do the other English teachers in their academic life, whether public school or hagwon, have a strong accent? So we reviewed “delicious” which the kids tend to pronounce evenly spaced and with even syllables, very uncommon for English as it is a stress-timed language. Korean is a syllable-timed language, which is why sometimes Korean speakers might sound…

I arrived to my thankfully not fly-infested nor flooded apartment after 2.5 weeks away somewhere around three in the morning. I hadn’t slept for 36 hours and it didn’t look like I’d be sleeping much more– I had to teach debate a mere six hours later. I unpacked my entire suitcase, I am that person, and then tried on a bunch of unrelated fitness outfits that were a little tighter after the post American vacation weight gain. I think I slept a full two hours and then rolled out of bed to run to the elementary school to pick up all the debate materials I had forgotten. Despite my body…

A quartet from 4-3 knocked and stood awkwardly in the office doorway. “Are you here for the interview?” Wendy asked, probably having received a heads up from their handsome (at least above the mask) homeroom teacher. They nodded but didn’t move until Wendy beckoned them over to interview her first. Sidebar, I absolutely live these kinds of projects for kids. They have to practice initiative to find all the teachers nestled in their own offices and then practice speaking with adults. The journalist leading the pack with her clipboard was the same who wrote me a letter for teacher’s day and also insisted that I learn local dialect. It’s how…