Theresa goes to the hospital on her own

For my new visa, I had to get a health check done. I'm sick of waiting around and dragging various Korean people with me for all my errands (friends, co-teachers, vice-principal, etc), so I decided I would just go on my own. I asked my foreign friends what to expect, and I brought a note in Korean saying what I needed (blood test, urine test, chest x-ray, etc).

To preface this story, on Saturday night I slept on the floor when I was out of town (I'll do an entry on that soon). Anyway, I managed to somehow screw up my back, so I've been in pain since Sunday morning. More to come on that story after the hospital visit.

On Tuesday camp was cancelled because the kids had a Korean drum competition (which they won!! I was so proud). I took a cab to the hospital rather than walking (re: bad back) and I was busy congratulating myself on knowing a) the word for "hospital" b) the word for "bridge" (to describe which hospital I wanted to go to) and c) being able to say "straight ahead." And who says you need to make full sentences? Not I!

I strolled into the nearest door and up to the counter and presented my note to the nurse. She told me to go to the second floor (in Korean!) I went up there and found the woman (doctor? nurse? don't know) in charge. Standard Korea - the hospital was NOT air-conditioned. We had some fun doing that color-blind test where you have to see numbers in dots as well as the eye exam because I had to pause and think of the numbers in Korean. I guess she probably knew them in English, but hey, I knew them in Korean so why not? I must have passed.

Next, the urine test. This part was definitely the most hilarious. So I went up to the guy. He grabbed a paper coffee cup, slapped a sticker on it, and pointed to the bathroom. Quick, someone tell American hospitals we've been wasting loads of money on specimen jars when a simple lidless coffee cup will do the trick. You know how they tape the handles of the faucets and toilets, etc. to keep you from faking the pee test in America? Yeah, I guess no one cares in Korea. I had to walk out carrying a cup of my own pee and just set it down on a tray. Lovely.

Blood test, no problem. No tears! At age 24 I finally don't cry when I see needles.

And that was basically the end. Awesome sauce.

So the next day (today) I was back at school for camp. My back was really starting to hurt now. I It used to just be bad if I was sitting (like, twisting pains in my lower left back and shooting pains into my calf), but then after two lessons it started hurting all the time whether I was sitting or standing. The only relief I could get was laying down, which of course isn't exactly an option when you're teaching. It got so bad that I started tearing up in class and had to smile furiously to pretend that I was okay. During lunch I had to leave the lunch table to cry in the bathroom because I was in so much pain. It was kind of embarrassing because I didn't want to throw myself a pity party, so I washed my face and went back to finish lunch and told myself I would be fine. I asked my co-teacher if I could leave early after camp ended to go to the hospital, and he said that should be fine.

I was going to lay down in the nurse's office during lunch, but the kids found me in the hallway and wanted to show me their Korean drum performance, and so I went to the gym and just laid down there and listened to their drumming (which was pretty cool). It was funny and painful because they thought since I was laying down it was okay to come tickle me, so soon I was laughing and crying at the same time because it was hard to make them understand I was actually in real pain, not just tickling pain.

Anyway, during the fifth lesson my co-teacher could tell I was barely holding it together, so he told me to go lie down, so I sat out the fifth lesson then came back for the sixth. Then at 3:30 another teacher was going back to Buyeo, so she dropped me off at the hospital (a little clinic downtown that had been recommended to me by another foreigner).

I may have mentioned that Koreans are obsessed with going to the hospital. Broken arm? Hospital. Cold? Hospital. Bloody nose? Hospital. Stubbed toe? Hospital. Nothing can be cured without medicine. After my trip there today, I can understand their love for all things hospital-related.

I walked in, handed the nurse my alien registration card and she put my information in the computer. After five minutes, I was ushered in to see the doctor. He spoke some English and asked me what was wrong, so I showed him where my back hurt and told him it was in my leg as well. He had me lay down on the exam table (which I was too tall for, har har har) and sort of dug his fingers into my lower back and asked if I felt any discomfort. This seemed to me to be a trick question... um, you're digging your fingers pretty hard into my back, so yes? Either way my back was hurting, due to the regular pain or his super strong fingers, so I said yes it hurt. I sat down and he drew me a little diagram.

Lines like this

____

____

____

____

"Lumbar, spine."

Drew a squiggly line down from the lower left and right corners of the bottom lines.

"Sciatic nerve."

Dashes on the "sciatic nerve" squiggle.

"Compressed."

"Your sciatic nerve, compressed. I will give you medicine. Take it three days. Also muscle injection."

Thanks, doc! Cue me shown to a nurse's room for a shot in the butt. I got my prescription and presto! the end. I walked downstairs to the pharmacy and got my meds.

Total time in clinic: 10 minutes

Total cost: 4,200won

Total time in pharmacy: 4 minutes

Total cost: 2,200won

The conversion rate is 1,000won = less than a dollar. That's right, to solve this entire excruciating back pain problem, it cost me 14 minutes and about $6. Now I know why Koreans are so insistent on going to the hospital for everything. I don't know how you do it, Korea, but America, please take note.

My only concern is the compressed sciatic nerve thing though. Is this going to heal itself? I assume they gave me painkillers (as the pain is seriously diminished as I type this), but will my nerve un-compress itself? I guess I'll wait and see, though to be honest, I'm curious how a 10 second massage examination of my back led to this immediate diagnosis. For now though, I'm deliriously happy to not be in constant pain, so I'm going to chalk this up as a win.

Side note: summer hit this week. Goodbye monsoons, hello 90 degrees and sunny.

End of semester (and my contract!)

This past week was the last week of regular school. I made awards for all the kids and told them I was leaving. I felt like such a traitor because I could hear my co-teacher tell them I was moving to Seoul (which isn't true, I'm moving southeast of Seoul). That reminds me, I haven't officially informed the blogosphere - I signed a contract for another year in Korea. This time I'll be working at a public middle school in a place called Seongnam, which is southeast of Seoul. I wanted to move to Ilsan where my friends Chris and Kevin live, but I couldn't find a job there. I'm very happy with my new school though (I mean, I was impressed when I went to visit it), and I'm very excited for a new place! I feel pretty bad leaving my students though... they looked upset. The third graders at my main school followed me around all day to say, "Teacher, I'm sad! Sad!!" and hug me. One of my fourth grade girls broke into sobs and didn't cheer up the entire class. "Teacher, Jiseon is sad..."

Two of my sixth grade boys requested a personal photo.

One of my fourth grade girls made me this sign. It says "Theresa Teacher" in Korean. A lovely gesture, but have I done my job if Chae-lin still can't write the word "teacher" in English?

"Fashion, Teacher!"

Fifth grade, second school. I had an end of semester party, water balloon toss included. I asked permission, but I was worried the homeroom teachers wouldn't like it (I asked my co-teacher's permission and he said it was okay). But the fourth grade teacher stopped me in the hallway to say, "Theresa! Outside, good!" and give me the thumbs up.

It's bad when the kid with the broken arm wins.

Second school first grade. They look so solemn in this picture, but don't let it fool you. I loooooove them.

Second school second grade. I love them too, they are too cute.

Main school sixth grade.

Main school fifth grade. That's my co-teacher on the right.

Main school fourth grade.

Main school third grade.

Second school third graders. Please observe their ingenious "cleaning" device. Inseo can fan himself while pushing a swiffer and pulling a small broom. Not a lot of actual cleaning happens during lunch time, but lots of bothering Theresa Teacher does.

Monsoon season

I had a real adventure recently trying to get to school. It was monsoon season, which means the weather looks like this:

I had a hard time photographing the actual rain, so look at the ground. Those aren't white flecks of gravel, that's incessant rain.

So I was dropped off by the bus and walked to the bridge to cross over to walk to school. I found this:

Please observe that next to the green fence there are some pipes in the river, not an actual bridge. Hmm, guess they decided pedestrians didn't need it? This, mind you, is the backup bridge to the real bridge which has been under construction for a few months now. I assumed the regular bridge must be open now. Cue me heading to the original bridge, pictured below:

Well... that looks pretty closed as well. Not a good sign. Option three: Walk to the road and cross the river itself. Usually there are large cement blocks that you can use to cross. This is the river, and in the distance near the mountains is my school.

See those steps? And the dent in the river? Yeah, about two steps are obscured by the raging rapids, and the cement blocks are underwater as well. Three bridges down! What to do??

I ventured to the orphanage because it's on my side of the river, and I know the kids walk from the orphanage to school, so there must be a bridge. Nope! They told me it was out. I learned the word for bridge is "da-li" which coincidentally is also the word for "leg." Luckily, the orphanage bus gave me a lift to school. I arrived late, wet, and not too happy. Not a good start to a Monday!

Hello everyone

Hello everyone. Please accept my sincere apologies over the lack of updates on this blog. I have now been in Korea for 10 months, and I'll be honest - while I love my life here, it's no longer as exciting as it was. Catching the bus? No problem. Fending off drunk old men who want to shake my hand? No problem. Disciplining the rowdy kids? Okay, that's still a problem. Here is a quick update on what's new in my life.

I had a magnificent birthday thanks to friends (here and America) and family, so thank you all for that. It's a great start to 24!

I'm looking for another job in Korea. Actually, I have an interview at a public middle school near Seoul tomorrow, so I can't write too much as it's already quite late and I should get some sleep. Wish me luck!

It's now monsoon season in Korea, and when I say "monsoon" I mean "mon-freaking-soon." Sometimes I feel like I'm Forrest Gump during that part when he's in Vietnam and he's talking about how there's all kinds of rain. Amen, Forrest. I'm pretty sure I need to get an umbrella that has a shower curtain hanging from it because there is no other way to avoid the rain. I've taken to wearing sandals to school because at this point it's a given my feet will become 100% soaked, so I may as well just bring socks to school and not bother to wear them as my feet get wet anyway.

Humidity here is off the charts. I think it's been 90-100% humidity for like the last week. Sadly, it's not even that hot, but walking more than 20 feet will cause me to break into a sweat. Also, Koreans don't believe in air conditioning. They claim it's "too expensive." Therefore, there is no relief from the elements - in the winter, the heater is too expensive; in the summer, AC is too expensive. Similar to winter as well, they also tend to leave all the doors and windows wide open when the AC is on. No, I can't explain it. No foreigner can. I've asked Koreans and they can't explain it. Fresh air, maybe? My co-teacher is the exception as she is obsessed with AC and is always nagging me to shut the windows and doors when the kids leave them open. I'm pretty sure all the kids know the phrase, "Close the door" because I use it about a hundred times a day.

In this climate I feel especially sorry for the Brits and South Africans because apparently in their countries, the weather is perfect. They don't need AC in Great Britain, and while it gets hot in SA, I guess they don't have humidity. My Midwest upbringing has made me strong.

Speaking of Brits and Saffers, I have been surrounded by too many foreigners. I now think these things are okay:

1. "Nice-uh!" instead of "Nice!" Koreans think this is English, I guess.

2. If I want to cheer someone on or wish them luck, I will say "Fighting!" It's like, "Go team!" However, because there is no "f" sound in Korean, it sounds like "Pighting!" So I say "Pighting!"

3. "Air con" is an acceptable term for "air conditioning," not "AC." This is Brit-speak that has leaked into Korean English.

4. People think it's okay to call me "Tree." Spellings vary from Tree to Trea to Tre, but they all sound the same. Brits are obsessed with nicknames/names that are only one syllable. I let it slide because if they don't say Tree, they say Thereza as for some reason they are incapable of the "sa" at the end. But now it has caught on and North Americans call me this too. I blame Kevin 100%.

5. Although I strenuously avoid using any of the following terms, I now know all of them. I try and not use them as they are not my lingo, but sometimes I slip up. It drives me mildly crazy when North Americans use British/Saffer/New Zealand etc slang. One of my American friends texted me to ask "Do you fancy playing soccer?" I told him, "No, Jason, I am American. I don't 'fancy' anything.'"

minging - disgusting

to sack off - blow off, not bother to do

tune - song

to pull - to chat someone up

safe - good, cool

uni - university, college

college - the English version of high school

mate - friend

There are assorted other words that are not appropriate for this family-friendly blog.

While my colonial English vocabulary is increasing, my Korean remains pathetic. Sad, but true.

The other day I wore a dress to school. My co-teacher's response: You're wearing a dress! You look so beautiful. Everyone is surprised... Thanks?

I have a t-shirt with a humongous cartoon cat head on it that I bought here in Buyeo. It is fairly hideous by American standards, but the Koreans go crazy for it. I wore a super-Korean outfit to school the other day: cat head t-shirt, flouncy white skirt, and tennis shoes (the walking kind, not the running kind) with footie socks. Five teachers told me I looked beautiful, three students told me I looked wonderful, and one of my sixth grade boys, bless him, told me I looked very pretty. Upon returning to America I will no longer know how to dress myself appropriately. You've been warned.

Mind-blowing things about Korean education

Recently I came across an article about the terrible tragedy of multiple suicides in Daejeon, South Korea (Daejeon is the fifth largest city in Korea and about an hour and a half east from me). I've attached the link. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/23/world/asia/23southkorea.html?pagewanted=1&_r=2&hp

The article says that at the Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology (Kaist), they were beginning finals at the end of May. Prior to finals, four students and one professor committed suicide. The Kaist student council issued a statement on April 7th, "'Day after day we are cornered into an unrelenting competition that smothers and suffocates us," the council said. 'We couldn’t even spare 30 minutes for our troubled classmates because of all our homework. We no longer have the ability to laugh freely.'"

Wow. That's some pretty intense stuff. I've heard tales of how stressful the Korean academic life is, and I've seen some of it firsthand. However, the part of the article that horrified me the most was this:

"Young people in South Korea are a chronically unhappy group. A recent survey found them to be — for the third year in a row — the unhappiest subset among countries in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. The Education Ministry in Seoul said 146 students committed suicide last year, including 53 in junior high and 3 in elementary school."

Three in elementary school. Elementary school! 13 years old or less, and they felt they had to commit suicide to escape the pressure. That is so saddening I can barely comment.

This past weekend a friend of mine in Buyeo had a friend come visit from Seoul. She works at a private academy there teaching mostly preschoolers. Her school caters mostly to Koreans who have lived in English-speaking countries, and she says her preschoolers are basically fluent in English. Not only that, but they are reading at an American third grade level. THIRD GRADE. PRESCHOOLERS. In a second language. I only went to preschool for like a week or something, but I'm pretty sure I recall it being a lot of playing house and coloring. Her classes do book reports! Again, I don't know if I can stress this clearly enough: preschool. Also please remember, Koreans are a year younger than Westerners (they count being in the womb as one year, so you're born one year old), so my sixth graders are 13 Korean age, but 12 Western, which means a Korean 4 year old is actually 3 years old in America. They have homework! This is not a joke.

I'm pretty sure I've already mentioned how most of my students go to hagwons (private academies) after school. My sixth graders will be taking their middle school exams in July, so their homeroom teacher has set up extra studying time after school. I leave at 5 o'clock; so do a lot of my students. I'm pretty sure when I was in elementary school I would NEVER be in school that late unless it was for some kind of sports practice or something. This kind of makes me think back to high school swimming. It's one of the few sports I know of that has regular morning and afternoon practice, and I don't really know why other than the fact that everyone does it like that, so if you don't, you can't be competitive. I wonder if this is how the Korean obsession with studying got started - in order to compete, you have to keep up with your peers.

This makes me even sadder for my students. It's so disheartening to know that where they live has already determined in the insanely competitive world of Korean academics that they have started behind and fall behind all the time. How can my kids, who start English in third grade (maybe one 40 minute class a week in K, 1, and 2 if they're lucky) compete with preschoolers in Seoul doing book reports that an American first grader couldn't do? I've seen all their scores for all their other subjects as well, and it's sad. This is not to blame anyone, not the teachers or the principal or anyone, I can just see how people that live in cities and have money have a serious leg up already. The article I posted said that the new president of Kaist used to teach at M.I.T, and he instituted new policies to make Kaist more like other prestigious science colleges. This means he said all classes will be taught in English! Also, the students attend mostly for free, but now those whose grades drop by a hundredth will be penalized by extra tuition. The article says that some cite these policies as reasons for the suicides, and so under serious pressure, the president has relented and changed them.

Even out here in the country though, don't let me fool you, the pressure cooker is here in full force as well. A friend of mine at a small school similar to mine told me one of her boys came into the classroom sobbing. He got a 95/100 on his English test, and his parents told him "they had no use for a son who gets a 95, they only want a son who gets 100..." My coteacher and I recently tested the students and after she graded their tests, she read the scores out loud to the classes, much to my surprised dismay. Everyone knows everyone's business, and anyone who does poorly is ridiculed as an "idiot" by their peers. The students will tell me to skip certain students when I'm asking questions because "He no English, Teacher!" or they'll just make a big "X" with their arms.

Don't get me wrong though. Korean parents love their children just like Western parents, and Korean teachers and students are so much like us. It's just pretty crazy to me how much pressure they are under all the time.

I made it to the beach!

On Saturday I went to Daecheon beach in the west coast, about 40 minutes from Buyeo by bus. It was awesome! There was a big group of us because it was someone's birthday. After that I went to Seoul for a different birthday. This one was a "Crazy Glasses" theme, so check out Korean Theresa below :)

This is as Korean as I get.

Rice paddies? Boryeong

Daecheon beach

Daecheon

Daecheon

With my first and second graders, we're learning about different ways to answer the question, "How are you?" I took pictures of them illustrating the words, and I'm going to put them into a powerpoint that I want to expand on every week so they can learn lots of ways to talk about how they're feeling.

Sumin is hot.

Yumin is angry! This is my favorite.

Taemin is bored. Second favorite picture.

Jiwon is okay.

Jin is happy.

May Madness

For May, my main school (and all Korean elementary schools) had what they call Sports Day. Hilariously enough, Sports Day apparently requires practice runs. This means I had the luxury of cancelled classes on Wednesday so the students could practice. I was excited because their Sports Day was Friday, and I'm at my second school on Fridays, so this was basically Sports Day minus the color coded wardrobes.

Some kind of chicken fight game, only they were grabbing hats and not knocking each other over.

Preparing for the chicken fight event. The boy in gray kneeling is named Namsu, he's in the fifth grade. His favorite pastime is coming up to me and claiming other students have hit him. ("Teacher, Donggeun, punchy!.... Teacher, Yeojin, punchy!") I need to translate, "I don't care" into Korean...

Doing this awesome jog in place pump up chant, akin to "We got spirit, yes we do, we got spirit, how bout you?!!"

One of my favorite third graders, Seon-oo. Though to be fair I think I love every single one of the third graders. They're little English-obsessed angels who learn super fast, sit up straight, never talk, and are excited over absolutely everything.

"Today let's play rock paper scissors!"

*Massive cheering*

"Today let's learn the eensy-weensy spider song!"

*Asah!!! (Korean "Yesss! Sweet!" kind of thing)*

"What day is it today?"

*ME ME ME ME ME MEMEMEMEMEMMEMEMEMMEMEM!! - cue groaning when only one person can answer*

School-wide tug of war. My fabulous third graders (with two fourth graders on the far right). Please note Gyeongmin in the solid yellow shirt... I'm convinced he is actually Grumpy the dwarf from Snow White. One day he wore suspenders and I almost died of cuteness.

Tug of war prep

Yun-mo, third grade. His face scrunches up like that when he's thinking really hard. I wish Yun-mo was my child. He's the only student from grades 3-6 who never forgets that "October 6th" is "sixth" and not "six."

Gon-hwi and Eun-sol, fifth grade. Gon-hwi is probably my smartest student in the whole school, and he's super helpful too because the other kids listen to him and he's attentive without being a brown-noser. Eun-sol is one of my remedial students, and he lives in the orphanage, but he does have parents. I've gotten to know him better because of the remedial class, and I adore him. He honestly might know the least English of all my fifth graders, but he's got a good heart and he tries so hard. They both got second in their obstacle course races, Gon-hwi informed me that their classmate won. "Kang-chan very fast!"

My coteacher on the left. Koreans fear the sun because being tan is "awful." One of my sixth grade girls once told me, "Teacher, your skin, so white! My skin, black!" (She happens to be fairly tan. A tan, I might add, I would like to liven up my pasty skin.) The student sprinting his little third grade heart out is one of my more advanced kids, Hwi-jun.

Spectators.

The little boy in the hat with his hand in his mouth is one of my favorite fourth graders, Keon.

Subin (blue) and Daejin (stripes). Two of my remedial, badly behaved fifth graders. I think most of their behavior problems stem from needing attention (he and Subin are both orphans). The other day Daejin about broke my heart when he came up after class and said, "Theresa Teacher.... today.... my... so happy! My go... Homeplus!" Yeong-a (my coteacher) had told me the orphans look forward to their Homeplus outings (it's like Target/Wal-Mart). I was so happy that he actually wanted me to know badly enough that he strung together an English sentence and came up to me during his break time.