emotional egg

in the spirit of honesty, and i hoped to be honest for these posts, i am completely uncomfortable with how emotional i've been lately. it hasn't been difficult to comprehend. in fact, it's been quite easy. that's been the most difficult part, that i've been aware of what's been driving these emotional reactions. i've nearly cried twice in the space of 4 days (could've been a record).

in class last week, one of my favourite students (maybe 8 years old) almost made me cry. she's resilient (trying to think of a better term, but this is close enough) and always has a smile on her face. when she is punished, eg. sent outside for talking, she understands and stops talking when she's told now. no hysterics, no tears. so last week, she comes into class with her hand covering her mouth. doesn't move it. the class gives her grief, but she laughs away with everyone. we don't know what's happening until another student sees she has a black, rotten tooth, and tells everyone, who laughs and laughs. all of a sudden, this girl is staring daggers around the room and almost goes into tears. i'd never seen her do this. she's normally so placid and easy going. i was choking back something while her eyes welled up. she didn't cry, neither did i, but i was a smidgen away. hard to explain, easy to understand.

a few nights later, i was having a drink with my friend Lauren, a teacher at another school. she and i are pretty honest with one another, sharing quite a bit of personal stuff and actually dealing with disagreements etc as they come up. anyway, we had a complete miscommunication that was great/horrible to deal with. i said we should go have some fun, which, i suspect, made her think i didn't want to talk about serious stuff anymore (this is not what i meant). i thought she said let's just stop talking about serious stuff altogether, which made me think she didn't want to be my friend anymore (this is not what she meant). and the next thing i know, i'm a near blubbering mess.

i haven't been half the friend i can be to many many people, i am aware. i don't know what held me back from so many. fear, obviously, but i don't know what of. i think, when Lauren said whatever it was she said, i thought i was scum of the earth again. maybe i felt like this friendship was going the same way as many others have - something i do not want.

next thing i know, we talk it out. neither of us meant what the other thought we meant, and we dealt with it. basically, i'm becoming aware of just how much i enjoy honesty, even that which i do not intrinsically want to tell people, nor hear from others.

after a while, Lauren tried to order a fried egg and was told she could only order it with soju. nuts as that sounds, to get an egg, she had to buy hard liquor. we managed to order some at another restaurant that doesn't serve soju, although wondered if we should've bought . . . ah, you had to be there.

Birthday Leyla

had a blast last night. a group of us went into Hondae, Seoul, to party up for the birthday girl, Leyla, and managed to make a big night of it.

the night really started at the subway station where i met some Chinese ladies and spoke to them a little. through a mixture of broken Korean, Chinese and English, we talked about their hometown, Harbin (near Mongolia), and about teaching english. they were quite relaxed and we had a good ol' laugh at my expense. to be honest, i couldn't tell they were Chinese. maybe because they're from the north.

after a few interchanges on the trains, we managed to get to a sitting down Japanese Restaurant for what we thought would be a meal, but it felt like a snack. think of a sushi roll being divided up between 8 people. well, we did that numerous times and made plans to hit the street food tents outside. as we talked about eating, Andy taught me how to tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue. a very useful skill indeed.

next, we were in a bar called Tin Pan 2 (named after Tin Pan, directly across the road, which we patroned a little later) dancing and having a great laugh. Dee (used to work with us) is now teaching in Busan and came up for the Leyla's partay. we had a great time dispersing the previously shoulder to shoulder crowd on the dance floor as she led the way with, well, less than choreographed moves.

at around 4am, Andy, Heidi, me, and some nameless soul we'd procured, went looking for food and ended up in a batting cage (baseball batting) in which i was relatively crap, only hitting one with any power (i played cricket, badly, so that's my excuse). Andy was excellent, as was our new friend, but they were soon humbled by a Korean girl wearing a belt for a skirt and thigh high pink leather boots. she hit every ball, scored a bunch of points and walked out nodding her head in self admiration.

at 6am, a few of us went for some food then the long subway train rides home, finally getting home at around 8am. great laugh, great times.

quite frankly, i've been a little more serious than normal for a while and a night with absolutely nothing important happening was great.

english market (february)

our school has a market day every few months where the kids can buy stationary, books (comics mainly), food, toys and miscellaneous tidbits. here's a few photos from the February one which i've been meaning to post (pics are a little grainy and i'm a little disappointed, so i'll be looking at my camera to figure out what is the dilly up, yo).

funny how the goods we pedalled suited ourselves: above is the lovely Jeanine running away from her stationary table. below is Debbie and Brian on miscellaneous duty. (meanwhile i was selling comic books and Andy was 'stuck' in the food room).


Haji (yellow and white top) shows us how to get through the gauntlet we must run at the end of each class. it's not all that intimidating when you realise the kids can't punch, kick, bite or scratch above your shoulder and i'm usually moving too fast for them to place any incendiary devices on my person. jokes aside, i get hit more than any other teacher.

of course, Cathy volunteered me to do a short speaking exercise with all the students on market day in the midst of this gauntlet. i was reading instructions to say 'how much?', 'how about a discount?' and getting pinched, kicked and tripped around the corridor throughout. i love the attention though!

Joey and Sandy browsing in our comic book shop. Cindy on the right bought up a storm. Cindy's a cutie pie that runs up to me in class to scratch my arms repetitively. she does so with a huge smile so i can't help but scream in pain (i'm not faking) and smile (sometimes faking this bit).

the fad in Korea is pictorial novels, lengthy comics, which we sold a bundle of. i got a couple myself, just need someone to translate cos the pics aren't enough.

the kids had heapsa fun and the day went off!

FTA

New Zealand's Prime Minister, Helen Clark, visiting a friend of the enemies of the axis of evil.

NZ exporters have been seeking a free trade deal with the USA for some time. This sums up the level of mutual interest.

the eighth angry dwarf

'snapshots of Korea'

our apartment is in the midst of dozens of filing cabinet buildings that make Korea look like a big domino set waiting to be knocked over. in each of these apartments is a speakerphone which is often used to offer announcements. we'll be watching tv or reading or something, and a voice will blare out around our home, uninvited. it's in Korean, so none of us understand it. we have no options for turning it down either. the way we usually find out what they're announcing is that our hot water will be non-existant for a few days or our power switched off for a few hours. incredibly irritating that we can't turn off the announcements that are basically useless to us although i suppose it's a good way of recognising that SOMETHING may happen some time soonish. then again, what about if no ones home? why don't they write a note about scheduled maintenance and put them in residents mailboxes? i'm sure there's a perfectly good reason why not.

a few weeks ago, our class schedules changed completely and classes i had been teaching since i arrived in this fair country were dismantled and reset like a lego set. the result, for the students, has been mixed, in my estimation. some kids ended up in classes that are too advanced and other kids know everything already. imagine how those kids feel. they're either bewildered or bored or both. some finish 10 mins work in 3 mins and wait for 20 mins for the others to catch up before they can all move on. luckily (for me), most of the kids are sweethearts and WANT to keep doing their work.

that said, i've struck a massive snag in one class. there's 3 kids who are little shits, to use a guidance counselling term, and with 10 others who are wonderful students, these 3 ruin my day. in the space of 6 classes (3 per week), one kid has gone outside every day for at least half the class. yesterday, my boss walked him back to class and said he promised to be good. within 5 minutes, i booted him out again (okay, i didn't actually boot him, but i did have to push him out the door). so yay, my new name is Angry Teacher. alright.

and i have no more kindergarten kids. my girls have been moved into a new class with a new teacher, which i'm kind of gutted about. it's probably a good move for them, schoolwise, as the 2 of them got all of my attention, but maybe misused it. now they have to share a teacher with more students, which will take some effort. i miss them though. ah well, as Tsung Tzu said, if you love something, set it free, and if it comes back to you, drop napalm to cover it's retreat.

second hand

My friend Andy passed away almost two weeks ago. He had been diagnosed with cancer in June last year, and had gone into remission, but it came back at the beginning of this year. Andy married Melissa in the midst of his treatment. i know i write some marathons, but he found them pretty dull - he once told me to not bother writing an email to him because he'd rather hear it from me.

despite this, i've sat back trying to write a few words of inspiration or succinct feeling about our friendship, however i wrote this instead.

Andy was very funny. he made a lot of people laugh. we had a similar sense of humour (probably a major basis for our friendship) and could ostracise a third party in any conversation just by talking about the weather. we worked together for a short time and when he drove us every morning, i could've just travelled around all day chatting (the work wasn't particularly exciting). there are many funny things he said in my presence, all probably not funny without the context. here is my favourite pickup line of his:

'I may not be the best looking guy in the room, but I'm the only one talking to you.'
there was another one, but i can't recall it. i never could. he had to repeat it to me on a weekly basis and i laughed at it on a weekly basis.

a few of us were sitting in the hospital one day and he was talking about his options and, the leukemia being in his arm, he chatted about amputation. Andy said it wouldn't be so bad because he could get another one second hand (i'm giggling just thinking about that).

and then, of course, intense Andy. serious and forthright. i often felt uncomfortable with how direct and no-nonsense our conversations could get, but they grew on me to the point that i could actually join in. one evening, we drove around Wellington for a couple of hours as he talked about his relationship with Melissa (not a story for me to tell), and in the conversation, he was resolved. his love was obvious to him and he was happy.

his demands weren't consistent with this intensity though. there were times he asked for something (or simply told me to do something) but nothing overbearing. i wonder if that's a paradox...


during our conversations after his diagnosis, there seemed to be nothing we couldn't say to one another. i feel blessed to have spent that time with him and honoured to have been invited to do so.
i miss Andy. i've missed him since i left NZ. the last time we talked, we barely mentioned death. we said we'd watch the rugby world cup together in september and october. and the last time i saw him was in a hospital, so it isn't really the setting of the relationship i know.

i'm not sure if this is a sad indication of our lives or not, but it's real: our friendship was basically developed sitting on couches while watching TV, or out playing pool, or going to the movies and giving Ben Affleck shit about his acting. we sat in an AIESEC office trying to offend other people, went to parties and irritated people with our obnoxious dry wit, and, on many occaisions, looked more deeply into our souls together. i believe Andy found something in his soul he loved, and that's what kept him fighting.

every time, EVERY TIME we talked about his cancer, he was looking for what he'd do next to beat it. that's a man who loves his life, the people in his life, and himself.

i love you, Andy.

i don't know how to say goodbye, but i think it'll probably include a long, drawn out drive around the Wellington Harbour bays, followed by fish'n'chips, a game of pool and maybe a video. i would save Damo the annoyance of me talking too much shit during said vid, but that wouldn't be appropriate, would it?

then again, we always considered doing other things. if i think of anything more inspiring...