I finally embarked and set out to hike the mountains in my back yard. After a few hours I had taken pictures and burnt out my quads, but mountains don’t work like sidewalks and I had to continue for another hour to find a descent. A gang of three retires were catching up to me with the hiking superpowers all Koreans magically gain at 65. I sped up, jogging down the soft trail covered in pine needles, careful not to trip on the extremely narrow path since the side was a steep decline straight to the bottom. But I skidded to a comical halt at one particularly narrow spot. There…

Amidst the chaos that was yesterday, I found myself enjoying my travel school more and more. Maybe it was the fact that half the students were sent home since they all attended a taekwondo school where one kid tested positive for COVID. (The taekwondo school manager came to have words with the principal for ruining their image). Or rather, it’s because Yana and I continue to develop our teaching relationship. Yana is strong where I am weak. She swoops in where I can’t explain or where she sees there is a better way to do something. Siri, please play “You raise me up”. For example, I had printed out various…

Today made me want to quit. I had to emotionally check out and put on “autopilot pleasant teacher mode”: in these situations, I don’t get angry or try to lecture the class. I simply slow the lesson down and let nothing bother me. I’m rubber, you’re glue. 5-6 was rude: the three usual boys and the two chatty girls. 5-5 was rude: three boys who couldn’t pay attention and held the class up. I mentioned offhandedly to Jack that 5-6 was a little rude and asked if he has similar behavior issues; I imagine this will probably make it back to the 5-6 homeroom teacher which I’d be lying if…

I talk to my kids in a mix of Korean and English, often incorrectly mixing them when I don’t know words: “students, 9 moods 그리세요”. I ask my kids all the time to translate and teach me words; they know I’m not trying to disrespect our languages. In fact, they are exuberantly happy to help this old teacher. Earlier this week I misspoke when trying to explain “tired” and the kids were quick to correct. “Sorry sorry my bad,” I replied. One absolute legend said “it’s okay, it’s okay, no worries,” with a certain feeling of recognizing that I made an effort and the mistake was not serious. She said…

One impossibly sweet boy with round glasses and a broken arm in a green cast walked next to me as Jack and I exited the cafeteria. I asked him in Korean what happened and if his arm hurt. “Oh… is it okay if I speak to you in Korean?” He asked. “Yes, but I’m not very good so please speak slowly.” This kid listened and proceeded with a delicacy most adults lack. Kids are so intuitive and I just love them. Unfortunately, I still didn’t really know what he was saying; I think he was just trying to ask if it was okay to pose questions in Korean. I didn’t…

Yana told me every week the teachers meet with other teachers in their collective sphere to discuss best practices. Apparently the science teacher, who is also head teacher in charge of the school’s curriculum, wrote the book on teaching. Quite literally, he wrote a book. If my Korean were above a first grader’s I would read it. My travel school may be socioeconomically similar to my former Seoul school, but the staff of each are different. In Seoul it seemed like a lot of teachers were biding their time until they could rotate out to a better school after their five year contracts ended. Here the teachers are well aware…

I was waiting in the hallway in a little alcove when I caught the tail end of a fight. Two tall fifth grade boys were outside the bathroom, each clutching at their chest or stomach in pain; both appeared to be crying angrily. A sweet boy in a vest was between them. He pushed them apart then led them to class: the bowl cut boy in front of him, being pushed like a lawnmower, and the permed hair boy holding on to his vest like a spurned lover and being dragged along. When I came out of the alcove, the two fighting boys were in the midst of a talk…

I don’t know if the mystical bearded taxi man from last time communicated with his taxi brothers but I had another adventure at the Korean DMV. After I got another updated form from my local office about all of my past entries to and exits from Korea since my birth to present, I scheduled a taxi with the Kakao Taxi App which isn’t much different from Uber. The DMV is thirty minutes away by car or an hour by bus… a bus that comes every 90 minutes. It’s also located on a country road at the edge of town but I guess since many Koreans don’t drive, it wouldn’t be…

The tides are turning, and skinship is finally making a reappearance after a long drought in contact-free corona times. As you probably know by now, Korean society is generally much more touchy among people familiar with each other. In between fifth grade classes, one homeroom teacher in the lounge exclaimed something at me in delight, and not knowing what she was talking about, I looked to the other teacher in confusion who simply watched as I was bodily guided to class. “It’s time for English class, let’s go together!” My captor said. I love spending time with my students and don’t have Sunday blues because I look forward to seeing…