A Tale of Two Doboks

Ahhh, can you see that?  It's the bright sunshine of the beginning of spring in Korea!  The birds will be singing, children will play soccer in the park, and girls will start looking like they actually knew what season it was when they put on their clothes ...
So as the weather changes, in this land that time can't change, spring is putting a lot of changes on my plate.
The first change is the closing of CNN's kindergarten program.  I know, I know, how will I live without having glops of I-don't-wanna-know-what sneezed onto me?  To be perfectly honest, though, (which I always am anyway) I will miss some of these children.  I'll miss dropping the lesson plan to play a game when their attention spans are gone.  I'll miss the seeing the six-year-olds develop adorable kindergarten crushes (We've all been there. That girl you told your friends you hated, but secretly made a construction paper valentine for and delivered it to her doorstep in april with your hair combed for the first time since...ever, only to have her return it at school the next day in front of everyone with the picture of a flower crossed out and replaced with a picture of her pushing you off a cliff.  It's happened to everyone.)
With the removal of my morning (Classes pushed back from 12:30 to 2:00!....What? 12:30 counts as morning.  Period.) commitments from my schedule, I'm free to slack off, stay out late, and sleep in!
But wait.
Life can never be that generous.
My classes now end at ten p.m.  And as my more serious fans out there can tell you, that means my classes end when my Tae Kwon Do class used to end.  No more Jeff-Ninja.
But wait.
Life never stays that greedy.
My supervisor helped me find a new class nearby that ran late at night.  Unfortunately, it wasn't Tae Kwon Do.  Fortunately it was Tukkong Musul.
Pause.
If you're like me (and really, like most non-koreans) at this point, you have no idea what Tukkong Musul means.  Allow me to explain.
Tukkong Musul means Special Combat Martial Art.  This is the fighting style developed for the special forces of the Korean military to combat unconventional attacks in urban warfare settings.  It's developed to fight terrorism and anything-North-Korea-can-come-up-with.  It's stylistically similar to Krav Maga, the art used by Matt Damon in the Bourne Identity movies.  Students greet each other with the martial artist's hand-into-fist salute, and an exhortation of "to combat!".  The art combines punches, kicks, grapples, joint locks, and "kill shots" from a veritable buffet of martial arts from western boxing to judo.
Unpause.
I accepted with surprisingly little hesitation.  After viewing a demonstration at the studio, I was sold.
Unfortunately, this would mean I still had to break the bad news to my Tae Kwon Do teacher.  And it would mean I wouldn't get to really make black belt.  Regretfully, I asked my supervisor to write my breakup letter to Inha Elite Tae Kwon Do.
But wait. 
Life's never that greedy.  For me at least.
Upon reading the letter, my Tae Kwon Do teacher told me he didn't want to lose my progress.  In fact, he planned to accelerate it.  If I'd meet him in the mornings every day and train one-on-one, he would have me ready to perform and fight in the Kukkiwon for my tests in two months time.  I needed to think about it.
...
So now I train twice a day, Tae kwon Do in the mornings, Tukkong at night.
My first milestone story in Tukkong happened last friday, when I fought my first ever grappling match.
After an interesting lesson in which I learned one takedown, one arm-lock, and one choke, I was treated to a series of grappling matches.
A grappling match is fought where two fighters begin standing, then fight without punches or kicks until one gives up.  It's much like wrestling, but there are no points for pinning someone.  You win if your opponent taps out or passes out.
"Je-Pu!" My korean name.  I looked around in surprise.  Had the instructor really called me in to fight a match?  Yes, no doubt about it.  I walked to the center and bowed. 
Who was I fighting?  I'd been matched up with a yellow belt most days, and while he was more experienced, he was about my size.
Oh wait, him?  The top student?  The black belt I'm not even allowed to warm up next to because he outranks me by so much?  You're joking.  He even gets a sweet red and black uniform- what am I supposed to do about that.  Oh you're not joking.  I've actually never heard you joke.  The last guy who tried to joke with you can't walk now?  Ah, I should've known.
"Shi-Jahk!"  Ok we're fighting now.  Do I make fists when I'm not allowed to punch?  He grabbed my sleeve, can I do that to him too?  I don't know if--
Oh that's the ground.  Hi, ground.  Didn't see you there.  I guess trying out that takedown I know is out of the question.  Well now that he's got me pinned to the ground, I could try that arm lock thing.
Nope, he saw that coming a mile away and blocked.  I do only know three moves, after all.
What about that choke?  Maybe if I--
Nope.

...And then something in my brain clicked on.  A dim, dusty bulb WAY back in the caverns.  Wait a minute, it said (do bulbs 'say'? who cares.  I'm fighting).  You know a much more difficult choke from a certain Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu-trained blackbelt at Ripon College.  If you can maybe get a LEG around this guys neck...
And somehow, through a combination of the element of surprise, an underestimating opponent, and the sheer audacity of choking the person who has you pinned by using only your legs, I choked him.  He had my arm locked as well, but when the instructor called us to return, I saw genuine surprise on the spectators' faces.
That choke would never work again, but from that point on, I knew they were going to challenge me and not consider me a hopeless foreigner.

Black is the Tukkong uniform.  White is the Tae Kwon Do.

So there you have it.  Tae Kwon Do for traditional, beaufiul moves and a black belt.  Tukkong Musul for the ability to break the windpipe of someone who tackles me in the street.  I went from Jeff-Ninja to Just Jeff-Teacher, then to Jeff-DOUBLEninja in the span of one week.
It's been a whirlwind, and the training's just getting started.

To Combat!

Jeff-Teacher


*This week's episode brought to you by a brilliant contribution by Andrew, the source of my Jiu-Jitusu knowlege.  I owe you one.

Constant Vigilance

When North Korean soldiers fired artillery at Yeonpyeong Island earlier this year, I often heard an interesting phrase tossed around on facebook statuses, in conversations with Americans, and in the news media: North Korea's actions constituted an Act Of War.

An act of war, according to my friends at dictionary.com, is

“an act of aggression by a country against another with which it is nominally at peace. ”

It comes as a surprise to learn that North and South Korea never actually stopped being At War. Their agreement is a cease-fire, and not a peace treaty. North and South Korea have never truly been at peace. A peace treaty would recognize the opposing government, and give them some form of power in that way. Neither government wanted a permanent solution of a divided Korea- they wanted everything back together...But the Communist and Democratic forces each wanted it done on their terms. Many people have drawn comparisons to East and West Germany, split after World War II. The Communist East and the Democratic West were two halves of one country split by the Cold War. With U.N./U.S. aid and support, the country was able to bring itself back together and rebuild the land that had been the battleground of three wars running. This often-cited example shows that such a reunion is possible. There was, and continues to be some hope for a re-unification of the Koreas.

I have seen this hope in monuments built for the hope of a united future.

I have seen it in a railway built as late as 2000 to connect the two Koreas.

I have seen it in a wide range of conversations between American students of politics.

I have seen it in the wishes of the the older generations to reunite their split families.

I have seen it in a joint company where North and South Koreans work together.

I have seen it many many places. But there's one place I haven't seen it

In the will of the younger generations of South Koreans. I would have personally assumed that they, having been spared seeing what awful things Northern soldiers did in the war, and being young and hopeful would have less of a grudge and be more willing to reconcile. But that's thinking with with our hearts, minds, and our politics. Let's take a step back and look at this the way any young family would.

From our wallets.

North Korea is a country in dire poverty. Let's face it- a country whose refugees become a burden to its neighbors is probably not one with a high standard of living. Theirs is a country that has been surviving on the scraps of foreign aid that didn't get squandered by a wasteful government and military.

The South Korean life, on the other hand, is one that is reaping the fruits of innovation and business growth. Every family wants the newest model of car- the fastest cell phones-- the best schools for their children...but the world economy is in a downturn right now, and they all know that. The young South Korean families know that their country is growing strong, but it's not invincible. To suddenly tack on another HALF of the country, then ask these families to bail them out of poverty? Unsettling, at best.

Back to that German example I mentioned? Germany did in fact reunify successfully,as we all know. Many West Germans, however, had the same complaints. They didn't want the communist side back until it was fixed-- because they knew it would be THEIR pockets that were emptied to save the East. The world pooled its resources, however, and put the country back together ASAP anyway. Fairytale ending for them. Or it would've been, if that was the ending.
You see, even in the last five years, entire cities in the old East German areas still look like they did when they were abandoned by the Soviets decades ago. This is not hearsay, this is not wikipedian wisdom, this is what I personally saw in Saxony-- rows of burned-out warehouses and abandoned apartments decorated with the shards of what once were their windows. I'm not saying there's been no progress, on the contrary many in East Germany live normal first-world lives...but Germany is not finished. And Germany didn't spend half as long being bled dry by a dictator.

Is “We don't want to pay for it” a selfish reason not to reunite a country? Perhaps. But to everyone who calls for a Korean reunification, I ask you to consider at least this much: South Korea is a nation that has worked its way (with great effort) out of the ashes of a devastating war to find success, stability, freedom, and a standard of living that many around the world envy. Would you tell these people that they now have to put the needs of their families aside to pay for the misdeeds of a tyrant?

When the DPRK (northern government) falls someday as it's bound to (though some help from the US would be very possible, and very much appreciated wink wink nudge nudge), maybe the rest of the world (The U.S. included) should fix up the North before handing the reins over to Seoul. Maybe before using broad sweeping language about Glorious Unification and the elusive Right Thing To Do...we should stop and ask everyone involved

“Who's gonna pay for it?”

Because if we're not asking that question, the Southern families are.

Nowhere's ever really normal, as you get close to the border.  Even when the fighting cools, the expenses of defending every inch of coastline on the northen edges must be staggering.

This picture was taken from North Korean soil in Panmunjeom.  The unarmed MPs (obviously armed soldiers can't be stationed in a DeMilitarized Zone) stand unflinching guard, half exposed around the buildings to present a smaller target to Northern gunners that face them from 50 yards away.  They do not stand at attention, they stand in a modified Tae Kwon Do stance, so they are always ready.

I was informed that the MPs stand out here on a three hour shift, but only when the tourists come out to look.  "oh man," my civilian brain thought, "they're just here for us to see."

And then the reality of the situation set in.
They're not there for tourists to see.  They're there for North Korean guards to see.

Because without MP eyes on them, the tourists would be killed or captured as spies

Panmunjeom never feels like a tourist trap.  You don't get an informational meeting.

You get a briefing by an MP with the US Army.  He told us not to do anything that would interfere with the Korean MPs

"They will strike you if you come close," he warned repeatedly, "and there's not a thing I can do about it"

On a related note, the MPs stance is modified from the TaeKwonDo stance from which you train to punch.

Yes, there's a gift shop where you can buy Panmunjeom paraphenelia.  But even as you wonder if you're being suckered into a tourist trap, it hits you: 

This is a slap in the face to the North-- North Korean money is being sold as a souveneir  on a capitalist free market.  The almighty Won.

This picture looks ominous.  It's not the picture's fault.  This is the bridge of no return-

Korean war prisoners were allowed to cross it at the end of the war.

once

After crossing, the POW could never go back.

This is the station, built in Dorasan in South Korea.

The tracks run all the way through Pyeongyang in the North.
Then-president George W. Bush hailed the opening of the station in 2000 as a new era of reconciliation between the North and South, encouraging peace between them.
Korean relations never recovered far enough, and today the station stands empty. 
The tracks run off to the north, into the mountains and the empty towns beyond.
Let's hope someday they'll have a station to greet them on the other side.

'Til next time,
Jeff-Teacher

Saturday- as told by Ian Fleming

But what if I don't arrive first?  Concentrate, he reprimanded his mind, there's nothing to be gained from wondering.
The concrete chill finally found him, as it always did.  The winds, born of the endless frozen waste of Siberia, always found their way.  Even as his boots clicked on the gray slabs- each diving further down than the last beneath a torrent of wrapped and muffled cityfolk, even as he descended to the bustling underworld beneath the city streets, even as the last desperate blazes of brilliant blue sky were swallowed up behind him- even then the sepulchral gusts found him and bit through his coat. 
     He turned up his high black collar, fighting off a shudder, and begged his thoughts to focus.  He had to arrive at the underground junction before she did.  It didn't do to dwell on what might await him, if he wasn't the first one there.
     He checked his watch.  12:55.  It was almost time.  He swiped his chip at the entrance, turned the corner, and the earth opened up before him.
     This, then was the Labyrinth.  The network of tunnels beneath the city streets that housed everything you could need:  Grocery stores, trains, restaurants, bus terminals, places to buy dresses or erasers or cell-phone cases.  Through dozens of passages scattered throughout the city, a curious river of black wool coats poured into and out of the caverns.   The web of alleys stretched beneath the city above- a mirror of the open streets bathed in artificial sun.  An underworld where hawkers called their wares in the white-and-blue glow. 
    The meeting today was one of excitement, one of trepidation.  If the contact (a friend of an acquaintance who he'd never met) was who she claimed to be, he could learn the secret he'd sought so long.  The location of the Temple danced before his eyes, the place he longed to find.  There was a less encouraging option, however-- if his contact played him false, he could find himself taken by the agents of the great Northern tiger.  Those phantoms haunted the whisperings of everyone around him. They moved in the violent, chaotic shadows that you can only see on lonely late-night walks when your mind won't rest with the sun--made all the more frightening when you tell yourself the very thing you saw can't truly be.  The ghostly thoughts reminded him to prepare his phone to send the SOS at one button-- and pray he wouldn't need to.  He flinched visibly when the device rattled in his hand.

underground at the divergence of water.  I have a red scarf.

He smiled the harsh grin of a hawk that first espies the shadow of a mouse, his face illumined in the story-teller glow of the screen.  This was exactly what he needed.  In his mind, the needle-thin hand of a dial moved between him and this mystery contact, ticking one notch closer to him.  She didn't know his face, and hers was a mystery to as well.  If he identified her first, he could fortify his position against capture.  If, however, he was identified first, he knew that anyone who wished him ill would have time to get into position.  He'd been at a disadvantage all along, an obvious outsider in the land of One People.  This solitary clue- this red scarf- might be the flag he was looking for.
     He looked up, the harsh lights flashing off his telltale green eyes.  As his gaze swept further and further across the crowd, the awful truth hit him. 
Everyone has a red scarf.
Hundreds of red scarves now adorned the passers-by, as if suddenly called into existence all at once.  How had he never noticed before?  He'd have to rely on the other half of the message.  His mind lanced through the passageways, recreating everything he knew to be there, every turn, every shop, every detail, searching for anything that could be the place in the message.  Faster and faster he searched.
There it was!  At the blue junction a fountain sat between the pillars- splitting its water amid the icy marble titans who held aloft the solid sky.
12:59
He loosed his coat and bolted for the junction, ducking between the bags of peddlers.   Old men muttered as he thundered past.  Couples parted, then rejoined.  Children stared at the flying stranger in black.  He ground his teeth.  He was aware of every hammer of his heart's war-drum tattoo through his ribs. After seconds filled with days, the floor beneath his feet sloped downward, urging him onward as he neared the fountain. Right before the final corner, he slid to a halt.
He straightened his coat, fixed his wind-wild hair in the mirror, focused inwardly to calm his breathing as per his instruction by his sensei, and slipped easily into the crowd at the edge of the junction.
     Red scarves bloomed all over this underground valley.  People laughed and chatted, eating rice cakes and swapping stories, comparing purchases.  The fountain was there, but how to find his contact?  He needed a way to observe it all without attracting attention.  A glint caught his eye.  An idea flicked at his thoughts, a match hissing at a stubborn wick.  Could it work?  He needed to try.  Slipping in line for a bank teller machine, he sent a message of his own.

I don't see you.  Meet me at the fountain.

His turn arrived at the machine.  He thumbed idly through pages.  Balance inquiry?   Transfer?  Withdrawal?  He hardly saw the words-- their piercing white letters only distractions from the reflected fountain in the glass.
There!  A shorter girl in black, her red scarf trailing behind her moved out of the whirlpool of black coats and made for the fountain.  He watched her eyes, unblinking.  She signaled no one.  She sent no messages.  She wasn't followed.  She wasn't even watched by any of the hundreds of faces that swirled in the sea of black behind her.  He closed out of the machine and walked across the plaza toward her. 
Hi, he said, I'm Jeff.

A Battle of Wits!

Picture this everyday classroom scenario and see it for what it is- a Duel of Intellect!:

A teacher invites his class to play a game, an educational game.  In this game, the class splits into two teams and answers the teacher's questions; if they get the answers right, they can draw a certain amount on the board.  The teacher instructs them that their goal is to complete a drawing of a cat.  The teacher begins asking questions.  The students consider the questions, then answer.  As the game goes on, the answers get quicker and quicker, until they're almost instantaneous- the students are no longer even thinking about the questions, but they still have all the right answers!.  "What's going on," the teacher asks, "how do you figure them out so quickly?"

You can't pull one over on students like that.  Here's what REALLY happened.
The students were told they would be playing a game, AFTER they've already done their fun warm up activity for the day.  A game AFTER the fun?  They knew there had to be a catch.  Given that the teacher's intent is to make them learn, the class realized this game would be be structured so that they have to WORK at each question.  A pity.  The game turned out to be one in which the teacher wanted them to quickly answer his questions, which they did.  And then one student made a discovery--
All of these questions are in order in the review section of the book!
In between answers, the students rushed to fill in the questions in the book, eliminating the need to think for each question.  Their answers became immediate for every question as they finished the game on autopilot- no longer needing to think for each answer.  They left grinning from ear to ear.  They had outsmarted the teacher's game.

BUT WAIT!

Why is the teacher smiling?  He was just outwitted! 

The teacher collects the markers as the students leave the room.  He hums to himself and marks complete today's lesson in his secret, mysterious planning book: 
"Complete review questions- Chapters 7-8."

What?  What do you mean it's not epic?  Everything about my year in Korea is epic!
No, to be perfectly honest, some weeks I get to see wonders of the world; other weeks I could be teaching ANYWHERE in the world- I'm just teaching.  In weeks like that (last week) I get to catch up with what I'm actually PAID to do over here, and that's teach children.  There are things I have to learn every day of every week to do that. 

Like gaining an amazing amount of respect for kindergarten teachers-- seriously, children are gross.  I'm glad I never was one.

But even though I'm earning my keep, I still find time to take in what it is that makes life here worth the trip.  Here, why don't I show you?

 First of all, Coke comes in glass bottles over here.  Kinda strange for such an advanced country.  But even a red-blooded American's gotta admit, the immortal Cola's name looks great in Hanguel script.

Look who is featured most prominently on this poster.  Do you find it odd that the sidekick Kato, not the Title character is the focus?  Let me tell you a story.  For those not checking the wikipedia articles, the role of Kato was originally played by none other than Bruce Lee.  And when the TV series came out in Hong Kong, it was billed as The Kato Show.  On this side of the world, it seems they'd prefer to see martial arts masters than brawling gunslingers.  And I for one have to agree:  Seth Rogen as an action hero? 
COMING SOON:  JONAH HILL IN "THE SHADOW"

And I'm here to represent the American Midwest in these classes. 
My work here is done.

Have you ever been so nerdy that you needed an ENTIRE STORE for your one favorite Japanese cartoon?

But it's OK to be a nerd when you live in the real-live future, complete with spaceship docks, like this.  No smoking by the fusion drives, read the sign!

That says Airship, 4th floor.  No big deal.  Korea just actually is a videogame.

And this is the obligatory snow level of that game.  Like all obligatory snow levels, the time you get to spend enjoying the snow is ended much too quickly when the slog of "oh yeah, things to do" turns it into a depressing black slush.

Speaking of depressing... This is actually required reading in some of their classes.

This is not intentional artistic license.  The characters on the right clearly indicate this store is, in fact, named after the favorite recipient of cream cheese.  Lesson here:  if at first you don't succeed, try try again BLINDFOLDED.

That's all I've got for you this week.  This weekend promises my first trip to a traditional Korean spa (jimjilbang).  Oh, and in case you were wondering, the Korean saying that I was adopting last time is "Fighting!" (A-Ja!). 

I remain, as always, your humble storyteller and leading man,

Jeff-Teacher

Marveling

Sometimes I wonder (as I'm sure i've told you before), how can it be true that I'm here?  I peek over my scarf  into the fogged windows of the shops I pass every day on my morning commute-- and see things I would not have even recognized four months ago.  I see signs in a script that's almost unbelievably foreign-  a code in a childrens' fantasy book.  I bow to cashiers, eat exclusively with chopsticks, and absentmindedly rub my thumb over the golden, embroidered characters on my black belt that spell my name.  I look down the streets through the ever-present fog that eventually dissolves everything I can see, except for the mountains that push out through the top of it.  I can travel to a temple on an island, or a bullet train in fourty minutes.  This place can be overwhelming if I stop to think, but sometimes I do anyway.
I live in Asia.  Think about that for a second.  It's a continent you may never see.  You'll only know it exists from news reports and encyclopedia entries.  But every day, I'm lucky enough to live somewhere that's unquestionably alien to everything I've ever known.
The world's full of places like this.  I can't see them all.  But it's a goal to which I would love to aspire.
Call me cheesy (or call me inspired...I'd prefer that), but a warrior-poet can't JUST kick ass, he's gotta write too.

The Tragedy of Man



What is the Tragedy of Man?  And is
Immortal pow'r the Glory of the Gods?
What splendors do we miss with hindered sight,
Truncated strength, and hampered time to trek?

For Man is but a watch with slackened spring,
Without- a glorious facade; Within-
A castle built below the reach of tide
In greater world than he could hope to see
In thousand-thousand sleepless wand'ring lives.

But oh, to be a god of all below;
With eyes beyond the stars- in every leaf!
With power to pull the oceans from my will
Begun before all worlds, and ne'er to die!

To make, to see, to live beyond the fall--
These lofty virtues ever hid from man.
But burdened is he with desire to seek,
Explore, without a hope of seeing all.

And what if men were gods, how would it be?
When worlds they crafted of primordial wish
With endless lives to see forever which
Their eyes all watching view from every stone.

"Memento Mori" - gift and call to arms!
The world's beyond your measure- raise your glass!
Give thanks that we, though limited to die
have now such times to see, such lands unmask!

And with each footfall think "poor, sorry gods!
Who never greet new worlds at every rise!"
May those who perish 'spire unfulfilled,
And roar a final plea for one more mile!

When Koreans want to encourage you to carry on, never give up, and persevere, they have a very succinct way of telling you that.  It captures the spirit of this place in a way that my writings never could.  I may adopt it myself, or at least give it a 30-day free trial.  What do you think?

Fighting,

Jeff-teacher.
 

From the J-Files

The following is an excerpt from the real-life daily lesson book of a real-life English teacher in real-life Koreal.  Korea. 

Class: 7 year olds
Unit: Storybook
This class is a hardworking class of only boys who have interesting and lively dynamics like giving each other nicknames, picking on the shy kid, and drawing defecating dinosaurs on the board.  Recently, I had the opportunity to learn a major cultural difference from them.  Of a story where someONE was lost in translation.  Someones.  You'll see.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory!  A wonderful example of Western Children's Literature.  Its rags-to-riches story and morality tale (did you know the Bad children and their parents mirror the seven deadly sins?  Rewatch that movie sometime) have for generations been a good influence on children the world over.  Augustus gets too greedy and goes for the chocolate river?  Thanks for playing, sir, your parents can pick you up outside in the losers' room!
But wait.
In the Korean translation, Augustus isn't "going to be fine".  The students were stunned in class, because they'd read the story in Korean.  And when they told me He Is Die, I laughed and pointed to the passage where Wonka reassures his mother that death (however delicious his might've been) didn't await her son.  It seems that THEIR version of the story replaces that passage with the implication that the price for greed is much steeper. 
Sweet dreams, Korean children.


Class:  12 year-olds. 
Unit: Family
Ah the ever-present My Family unit.  Seems to be in every foreign language textbook in every language ever.  Except the Canadian textbooks.  They use Morris the Moose for that unit.
Ahem.
In other text-
WAIT
...Except the Canadian textbooks.  They watch Mighty Ducks instead.
Ok I'm done now.
We discussed who our family members were, what jobs they did, how they looked, and what color eyes and hair they had (and believe me, appearance descriptions took a lot more vocabulary for me than it did for my students).  But when I described my family, and said my mother was a lawyer, the classroom went silent with confusion. 
"lawyer?  really?" 
Was this sexism?  Did they really not believe a woman could be a lawyer.  Time to set the record straight.  I knew they were an old-fashioned culture and all-
"wow, oh, very rich!"  Oh.  I guess being a lawyer must just pay an excessive amount here.  I mean, they do pretty well in America, but with a reaction-
"Teacher!"
One of my students got up and showed me her phone, where she had typed in the job name.
"Lawyer?!"  The phone said: R-O-Y-A-L. 
...Oh right.

(If it's still not clear, tonight at Taekwondo Soccer, the student who shot the winning goal yelled GOOOOOAAAAL!  G! O! A! R!)

There are, in fact, very important reasons I've been imported to teach these children.


Class: 12-13 year-olds
Unit: adverbs of frequency

After discussing with the students how I usually prefer American ramen to Korean lamyun because American ramen comes in chicken, pork, beef, seafood, and asian flavors compared to Korean lamyun's pepper and pepperypepper flavors, I introduced them to the ramen I always like: chicken flavor.  They complained that Korean babies sometimes eat a soup like that, but adults never do.  Today in class, they brought me a lamyun that they said was sweet instead of spicy.
In retrospect, the fact that I was instructed by onlookers to only take a small bite should've clued me in.
Mmmmmm.  Lit sparkler-magma and habanero flavor.
I ran for the fountain.
I let that student finish the bowl alone.  And you can be quite certain that when he asked to go to the water fountain later in class and his salvation from the brimstone he'd consumed was up to me.....
he decided never to pull that trick again.


WARNING.  THIS NEXT CASE FILE CONTAINS EXPLICITLY EXPLICIT LANGUAGE THAT WAS SO EXPLICIT, ENGLISH-SPEAKERS AND KOREAN-SPEAKERS COMBINED WERE UNABLE TO COMPREHEND ITS EXPLICITNESS.  COVER THE EYES OF SMALL CHILDREN AND PETS.

Class: 6 year-olds
Unit: all
My students had often tossed around a term in class.  Usually after playing with Pokemon cards or Beyblade tops, so I thought it nothing but a japanimation-phrase.  Something the pokemon or tops hatch from, perhaps.
Fire Egg.
Offended?
Neither was I.  I joked back with them.  Ok, sure guys.  Fire egg.  Hey look, a fire egg!  Could you toss me that fire egg?  Careful, we don't want to have to call the fire department!
Later that week, a discussion with my fifteen year olds on crazy foods yielded a surprising result.  Did you know that King Sejong of Korea was rumored to enjoy eating Rocky Mountain Oysters- of chicken? 
And more importantly, did you know that the Korean slang term for that part of any animal is a Fire Egg?
I walked into the teachers' office stunned.  I asked my co-teachers: have you heard them say this word?
No, they told me.  What does it mean?
What an awkward thing to have to explain to my female co-workers.  Wanting to be professional about it, I cut the slang and told them as clearly as I could.
"Its....well, I mean. . . What THEY're saying is...it's just the slang term, I think....its...itmeanstesticles."
"Oh."
Relief.  Now they can deal with the students about it, because I'm sure that'd work better in Kor-
"What is testicles?"
Well, when a man and woman hate each other very much and the woman wants to cause the man substatial discomfort while making him cry like a baby, where does she aim her best front snap kick?
Oh.



On a completely related note (related to snapkicks), My Taekwondo teacher is teaching us a routine.  It's a dance and taekwondo number (hereafter referred to as TaekwonDance) that's actually more aerobics than dance.  To the South Africa World Cup cheer song.  I was taken completely by surprise with this one, and I never would've expected anything like it.  I hope you share my astonishment. The implications of this dance-music are nothing short of mind-blowing:



It means there's someone out there who actually pays attention to soccer.


Tune in next time for a special Collector's Edition 14 Hours and a World.  Supplies will be limited, so get yours first!

Marvel always,
Jeff-Teacher

Jeff M. Davis has the Most Important Job in the World

Teaching!
Aw that's cute.
But seriously.  I've been promoted.
I am now.....
Santa's Speechwriter.
You heard it here first, unless you saw the wikileaks about it.  And if you did, disregard the one about his beard being fake.  He's the real thing, and he's coming to CNN Language Academy!  For some reason (I'm assuming it's my speech background) I've been chosen to write the introductions and greetings for the symbol of Americanism in the Wintertime.  I am, of course, assuming I was chosen because I was better qualified, and not because of where I'm from.
Because that's racist.  And 14hoursandaworld does not support racism.
But the pressure!  Can you imagine?
Rooms stuffed to the brim with tinsel, christmas trees, advent calendars, and construction paper reindeer peeling off the walls from run-ins with soccer balls.  Classrooms that look like they were hit with Polarbear Coca Cola commercials full of gluesticks and glitter wait expectantly for a man they've only heard stories
nay
Legends about.  A man of whose existence they're skeptical.
They want to believe.  Can it be true?  A fat white guy with a beard gives stuff to the whole world for free, with an archaic delivery service?  That's a poor business model for a number of reasons my three-year-olds could diagram on the board.
When he arrives, he'll introduce himself and his present procedure to all the awestruck and wide-eyed boys and girls.  And though out on the lawn, Korea is having a brown Christmas, all through the house they will come to the conclusion that so many little American children came to before:
Santa.  Is.  Real. 
And he is the best thing EVER.

Stories of the week!
As you all know, if your lives center around me (as I'm sure they do), this week I officially hit the age where one is not likeable, (182, Blink).  Having a birthday the week of Christmas has its disadvantages, as this weekend will be dedicated to christmas celebration, so I was expecting a low-key birthday.  When out of left field, an army of awesome people spoke out and said Forbid It!  Your birthday will rock! 
My kindergarten co-teachers informed the children, who greeted me with a chorus of Happy Birthday and a book of cards they had made (some with STUNNING art skills for five year olds).  My other coworkers surprised me with a small gift of cash and something delicious.

It is not a lie. 

Also, though I didn't check the mail for them soon enough, I recieved THREE packages of presents from the states.  And I'd like to thank everyone from home who has equipped me to survive, thrive, travel, and have great snacks while I play video games.  Also (and I'm totally gonna attribute this to my birthday) The South Korean army AGAIN held live-fire drills on Yeonpyeong island, after the North told them that such actions would awaken a much more powerful Northern retaliation.  The North uncovered their coastal guns and rolled them into place as the South set up for its training.  The training began.  The South shot off every round they had not fired in the truncated drills last time on Yeonpyeong.  The North backed down.  Happy birthday to me, commies.

I'm also enrolled in a language exchange now.  Expect pictures of the place soon.  It's a wonderful little coffee shop designed specifically for English, Chinese, and Korean speakers to be able to have a place to teach each other their languages free of charge.  They have game nights, ski trips, holiday parties, the works.  The program director suggests I watch korean dramas repeatedly to learn the language.  He learned most of his English from watching friends.  And suddenly his gelled-up hairdo made much more sense. 

One more, then I'll let you go, for real this time.  I did a Lifeboat Game with my conversation class, where they are given six people of different backgrounds and skillsets on a sinking ship with a lifeboat that can hold two.  Among them were a russian sailor, a japanese computer programmer, an american congressman, a happily married scientist, and a husband and pregnant wife.  After a long debate, they saved the sailor (because someone had to get the lifeboat to shore.  very practical of them) and the pregnant wife.  It's worth noting that she was 23 and her husband was almost sixty.  They said the young sailor man and the mother-to-be would fall in love and get married and have many more children, and forget about the husband who went down with the ship.  I think they'd been watching too many dramas.  The one thing they did agree on unanimously?  The fate of that poor, poor Japanese programmer. 

And this is not related, but you can eat pokemon for snacks.  The ghastly snack has a chocolate cream center surrounded by cakey chocolate, all in a circle.  I thought it was awesome.  But I'm probably biased from a childhood spent engrossed in Pokemon Red for gameboy.  I guess you could say my evaluation of this snack. . .

(Puts on sunglasses)

It's Super-Subjective!

YYYYYEEEEEEAAAAAAAH

Counting down til Christmas

Jeff-Teacher