The Departure of Captain Obvious

Fridays are normally causes for celebration. Or if not "celebration" per se, at least relief paired with a small bit of joy. However, on Friday morning I was dealt a devastating blow, in what was probably the second-longest conversation between myself, and Rachel, my Korean Teacher.* The news was that our favorite student, Peter, AKA Peter Rabbit, AKA Peter Pan, AKA Peter Pumpkin Eater, AKA Captain Obvious, was leaving our school.

I'll let you guess which one is him.

I was already upset about the new school, but this is easily the worst news of all. It's amazing how I could gain such a strong affection for a student that I've only known for a few months. No, Peter is not the only one I care about, but he is special. Were he a pro-athlete, an ESPN commentator would always be going on about his "intangibles." Is he the best student in the class? No. The smartest? No. Hardest working? Not a chance. He's a good student, but not top-tier. On the other hand, he's among the sweetest and happiest, and hands-down the funniest.

All of my kids are unique in their own ways, but he's the lifeblood, the heartbeat, that makes the Grizzlies class go. In my time as a teacher, I've noticed how important student leadership is to a class. If the smart, popular kid is a troublemaker, the class will be difficult. If the smart, popular kid is a total goofball (e.g. Peter), the class is going to be easy going and fun. I don't know how the Grizzlies will act with this power vacuum, nor can I say with any authority who will take the reigns of leadership.

I try to console myself with the knowledge that this day was inevitable. He was going to leave the school eventually, and even if he had stayed on until the end of the semester, next month, he would have almost certainly ended up in a new class. It is the reality of teaching, students come and students go. Some will go with hardly a notice, and others will leave an indelible mark. My only hope is that I can leave that same mark, as many of my favorite teachers did for me.

Several students gave me birthday and/or Christmas cards. Here's what Peter wrote:

To: Marx Jack Teacher,
Thank you teacher! I love you. Thank you for teaching me.

From: Peter Choi

No Peter, thank you.

*The longest conversation, for the record, was after she had had too much wine during our office Christmas party. She normally avoids speaking English at any great length, but that night, it was flowing like the aforementioned wine. This was the conversation where I learned that Christine (my other Korean Teacher) was not just her sister, but her TWIN. And then she got mad at me for not knowing.

All in a Week

Another Friday, and another week gone by. Each passing week brings unfulfilled desires on opposite ends of the spectrum. On one end, it is the desire to complete my contract as quickly as possible and move on to bigger and better things. On the other, it is to pause, take in as much of this experience as I can, and try to improve a little bit each and every day.

Every week tests this balance, and lately it seems that the first option tends to prevail. On Monday I usually feel refreshed and productive. I take Sydney on an extra long walk, and study Korean when I get home. By Wednesday and Thursday, I just want to get through the week. Sleep and relaxation are foremost in my mind. I get home, mindless cruise the Internet for an hour or so, and I might read a couple pages in a book before getting up and doing it all over again. By Thursday night, I have already worked 42 hours in 4 days, and I still have one day to go. As much as I would love to be social on Friday nights, I usually just stay at home with Sydney.

As the weekend dawns, I find it difficult to rise with the sun. Many Saturdays and Sundays I have spend the better part of the precious daylight hours lounging around, and refusing to put on pants. By Sunday mid-afternoon my mind clears and I feel human again. Human until the dreaded alarm sounds early the next morning, to begin the week anew.

Perhaps it is the height of winter that is driving me to this unproductive state. Am I driven by some gene buried in my DNA to go into a mild hibernation, to preserve my energy for keeping warm, and wait for spring to arrive? I feel that warm weather and longer days will help in this regard, so I will just have to tough it out for now.

Were this year crammed into a single year, it would be Wednesday morning. While it may not get any easier, the knowledge that I am getting closer to the proverbial weekend will be enough to keep me going.

2010: A Retrospective

A Primer
With the full realization that the New Year is, by in large, completely arbitrary, I believe it is nevertheless important to look back at where I was a scant one year ago. All to often we get caught up with resolutions and goals for the upcoming year without first looking back at the last.

As I eluded to in my last post, I've been a bit down as of late. This begs an important question--particularly in relation to where I was at this point last year--"Why?"

To paraphrase the oft-used politician's question, "Am I better off now than I was one year ago?" The question isn't as straight forward as it might seem, and yet, the answer is clearly a resounding "Yes." I'm gainfully employed, living in a place I want to be (no offense, Milwaukee), and I have direction in my life. All of these are marked improvements over last year, no doubt.

Yet, I feel like my current malaise is directly related to self-improvement. When I made the decision to move back to Asia, I suddenly had somethings that I hadn't had in a long time: hope and expectations. These are great things--don't get me wrong--but they come with strings attached. Due, in part, to the constantly-changing work conditions that I have been subjected to, it has been difficult to find any sort of routine in my new life. And with the lack of routine, I have found it impossible to work (at least on a regular, consistent basis) toward one of my biggest goals: learning Korean. So my expectations must either be muted or deferred, and that has been difficult to deal with, especially since I was so eager just a scant few months back.

Furthermore, it seems ol' Sydney has been a bit of a double-edged sword for me in Korea. She provides me companionship and joy on a daily basis, but she has diminished my ability to explore the country and meet new friends. Being more of a "home body" is good on many levels, but not always. My dog is great, but I hope she has not been too much of an impediment to finding human companionship.

Early 2010: Aiming High and Low
I guess I have meandered off-topic. The present has a nasty habit of rudely intruding into the past and future. At this point last year, I really had no idea what to do. I was sending out applications and resumes left and right, almost always into the abyss of the Internet, never to be seen or heard from again. I aimed high on several occasions, most notably to the State Department and Nashville Teaching Fellows. I came up short in both, how short, I'll never know. In both, I progressed past the crucial first step; with the Teaching Fellows, I made it as far as the wait-list. To quote Top Gun, "There are no points for second place."

I aimed low as well. The lowest point, without question, was when I applied to work at a dog-grooming/coffee shop joint called Community Bark. When the manager turned me down, he told me he was looking for someone with "More barista experience." To his credit, at no point did the University of Tennessee teach me how to make a latte.

During the early part of 2010, a thought did flutter across my mind. What if I go back to Asia? I could at the very least get my feet back on the ground, and I knew they were always hiring. However, the thought seemed impractical, particularly with my dog. I quickly dropped the idea when I landed a job with the Census.

Mid 2010: Counting the People and the Days
Thankfully, this lengthy stint as one of the unemployed masses happened in a year ending in "0." From what I could tell, the U.S. Census Bureau was willing to hire just about anyone with a pulse. Sometimes, I even wondered about the pulse requirement. Regardless, it began just as my unemployment benefits were running out. The timing couldn't have been better. I was hired as an "Enumerator" (AKA "The guy knocking on your door and asking you all of those annoying questions"). I actually really enjoyed the work, despite my occasional run-in with paranoid psychopaths. I was quickly promoted to "Crew Leader Assistant" and then "Crew Leader" shortly thereafter.

Among those I managed, the widespread ineptitude was truly baffling. This was oddly comforting, as I knew that these were the same folk I would soon be competing with for other jobs. I would say the strangest aspect of working for the Census was the knowledge that every survey we completed was one survey closer to being unemployed again. To put it bluntly, it was a little hard to stay motivated.

With the Census winding down, I was once again at a loss of what to do next. I had been continuing to search for jobs and send out resumes throughout my tenure with the Census that summer, but I only heard crickets in response. One day, during another frustrating job search, I checked Dave's ESL Cafe on a whim. I had decided if I were ever teach abroad again, I would do so in Korea, so I looked at few posts.

Late 2010: The Unlikely Return to Asia
To my amazement, all of the schools were including flights to Korea in their contracts. All of them. And not just "we'll reimburse you at some point in the distant future" like many ESL jobs, they were offering to pay up-front. This point alone nearly had me packing my bags. I quickly did an Internet search and discovered that I could, in fact, bring my dog to Korea. Without hesitation, I sent an application to a company about a job.

In mere moments, I received a phone call from a Korean woman. After all of these months of fruitless searches, I could land a job in Korea in a matter of minutes. With this, I actually did some research and came across Korea Poly Schools, my current employer. The recruiter enthusiastically informed me that I could bring my dog, and within a week, I had a job.

The next month and a half went by in a blur. It was stressful, and exciting, and sad. I managed to get back on unemployment before I left, hopefully for the last time, ever. I sold my car, packed my things, stressed about Sydney and how she would handle the flights (or, whether she would even be allowed on at all). I said good-bye to friends and family, and I was on my way.

Coming Full Circle
Maybe I should have titled this section "The Yin and Yang of Japan and Korea." When I left my mom in Atlanta to go to Japan four years ago, it was a bright, sunny, and typically hot Southern day in July. My largest possession was an overstuffed duffel bag, and I wore a suit. We hugged, and mom cried, and when she was gone, I fought to hold back a tear as well. I had just graduated, and I was leaving behind a girlfriend, and two intact families. At that very moment I thought, "What the fuck am I doing?"

When my dad dropped me off in Chicago, it was a dark, cool, predawn morning in the Midwest. My largest possession was a 45-pound pooch, and I only packed the clothes I could fit in my hiking backpack. I had the same large duffel bag as well, but it was mostly filled with dog food and treats. I wore khakis and a polo shirt. We hugged, and both of us, I think, were holding back a tear. I had just spent the two most difficult years of my life, wondering when, and then if, it would ever end. Both of my families were now shattered. But life goes on, and at no point since my departure have I asked myself what I was doing.

And therein lies the biggest difference: now, I know.

"Cold Water in the Face, Brings Us Back to this Awful Place"

My brief foray into freedom and positivity came to a crashing end on Monday morning with the first day at our new campus. At this point, the only two reasonable conclusions could be that KPS management are either a) astonishingly ignorant of our wants and desires, or b) intentionally trying to drive away their teachers. At this point, it's a bit of a toss-up.

Yes, this move would irritate anyone, but it is the way it was handled that has really put me in a foul mood. In human interactions, certain happenstances require greater sensitivity than others, and in this case, we've received almost none. Prior to arriving here on Monday morning, here were our list of grievances:

• Longer commute
• No ability to visit the bank during work hours
• No local eateries for lunch

Upon arriving at our new school, we were confronted with the following realizations:

• No computer lab (effectively leaving us with no curriculum or activities for computer class each week)
• No staff room (no where to get away from the kids, and no where to grade homework)
• No gym teacher (so our one prep class per week is effectively taken away, this all the more ironic given the reported $50,000 cost of all the new gym equipment)
• The windows are covered, despite promises to the contrary
• And of course, far fewer students, giving us all lingering insecurities about the future of our jobs

The absolute icing on the cake came when we received the 2011 calendar. Our parent company dictates when our summer vacation will fall; in the past they had given Monday through Friday off, sandwiched between two weekends. This year? July 28 through August 3, or Thursday through Wednesday for those keeping score at home. I'm not quite sure why they would choose to do this, but at first blush it appears to be either ignorant or dickish, which brings us back to the original point.

A mood of despair and deep frustration has swept through the school. Those who are lucky enough to be in the final throes of their contracts are getting out while they can (including several who were planning on renewing their contracts until all of this unfolded), while the rest of us look at a long 8 months before we can move on to greener pastures. No one is thinking of resigning, which is why I can't help but think about the aforementioned "b."

From a cynical viewpoint, giving into any of our requests would only ensure that they would have to continue to give these "luxuries" to any and all teachers that came after us. Essentially, it is better for them to deal with our complaints and frustration in the short term, because in 8 months there will be no teachers left to recall "the good old days."One teacher who has been with the school for nearly two years said openly in a meeting with the director, "You know, just having a fresh pot of coffee each morning would be a huge gesture to show that you care." On Monday morning there was a fresh pot of coffee, our mouths, appropriately, agape. Suddenly, a secretary came around the corner before the first drop could be poured, "Oh no, that is for James!" James, the director.

This is just one instance, but it seems like every last insignificant request to regain a modicum of happiness and morale falls on deaf ears.

So where does this leave me?

1. R&D-Barring a change of heart from our director, my attempts to get into the R&D department at semester's end are all but kaput. While the option to move there after my contract expires remains open, I question the wisdom of signing on for a second year with a company that has treated my contract like a made up word.
2. Public School in Two Months-Theoretically, I could land a job at a public school but I would need a letter of release from our director, who, as we have recently seen, has not been particularly generous as of late. Furthermore, these jobs are given out on a first-come, first-serve basis, so it would be difficult to land in a desired location, with a desired age group.
3. Grit my Teeth, and Public School in Eight Months-Probably my best option. By staying on, I will get to take full advantage of everything KPS has to offer me, which as of now, is a big, fat paycheck. I figure I could save close to $15,000 between now and then (when figuring in my end of contract bonus, reimbursement for flight home, and pension). Lord knows I've spent more time, in shittier jobs, for less money. I would be able to apply early to EPIK (Korea's far-less-selective version of JET) and therefore probably end up in a better locale.

Wow, when I list it out like that, it hardly seems like a choice at all. This will suck in the short-term, no doubt, but it's the best choice I can make. I've made it through one-third of my contract, and I know I can complete it. From my previous experience, I never came to Korea with the illusion that life here would be easy, but like Japan, I found a significant challenge in an unexpected place.

I wrote a rather long blog entry the other day, but never published it for personal reasons. The overarching theme was how I currently find myself in an eerily similar situation to the semester where I dropped out of college. I see where I want to go, but I have a lot of hard work ahead, and on top of it all, I'm in a lonely place. It's hard to admit, but I am.

The good news is that I have knowledge and experience on my side. I know the signs of depression, and I know helpful ways to avoid spiraling out of control. Changing jobs will not make me any less lonely, and in a depressed state, any significant improvements to my work situation would not immediately improve my overall attitude. Perhaps "working through it" in my current job is the best thing I can do. Moreover, the best news is that I'm not in a position where I can fail, not when I've already come so far.

What a Difference a (Couple of) Day(s) Make(s)

On your average Wednesday evening, around 5 o'clock, I would be stuck behind the ever oppressive walls of my school. Thankful, I have this week off, so instead of looking longingly at the window (not out the window, because all the windows are covered), I'm sipping on some cappuccino at a coffee shop, and taking in the views of bustling rush-hour traffic as dusk descends upon Seoul. Quite nice, really.

Something has changed, I noticed it early yesterday afternoon. By all accounts I should have been in a foul mood. My friend, Mickayla, and I had unintentionally pulled an all-nighter on Monday. I say "unintentionally" because we tried to get a cab back from the bar at a somewhat reasonable hour. Instead, the vaunted Seoul Public Transit System let us down, and left us standing in a snowstorm for a half-an-hour before we came to the realization, "Hey, that bar over there is still open!" And so it was that we managed only a few, unfulfilling hours of sleep on Monday night or Tuesday morning, whichever you prefer. The following afternoon we made our way to Itaewon for some Indian curry, a well-known cure for hangovers. Mickayla, perhaps still a little drunk, asked our Indian waiter what makes curry so great for hangovers. His answer, "Very many spices!" Good enough for me.

Maybe it was the curry, maybe it was the diminished hangover, or maybe it was the sun poking its head through the clouds for the first time, but right then I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. What was this feeling? Freedom, perhaps? This was my second day off, and I was already without a care in the world. Mickayla was off to shop, so I popped back into the subway to make my way to Changdeokgung Palace, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, which would no doubt be a sight to behold after last night's snow.

Despite missing out on an opportunity to see the "Secret Garden" tour, I was able to wander aimlessly around the Palace grounds and admire its elegance and quiet beauty. I've been to many of these palaces, and while Changdeokgung lacks the grandeur of the Forbidden City or Imperial Palace, in Beijing and Kyoto respectively, it has its own charm.

Most palaces are strictly built on a north-south axis, in an attempt to replicate Heaven on Earth (which is apparently on a north-south axis). However, this palace conforms to no axis of any kind, mostly due to its history. It was never supposed to be the seat of power for the royal family, but when the Japanese burned their main palace to the ground in 1592, Changdeokgung was tapped as a makeshift, and then, a permanent, home. Changdeokgung remained the main palace almost continuously until 1910 when Korea was "annexed" by the aforementioned Japanese. Under occupation, Korea's last emperor, Emperor Sunjong died here in 1926.

I had visited the palace about a month ago, but it didn't hold a candle to this trip. The combination of the low winter's sun, still wind, and fresh snowfall made the palace come alive. I took pictures, best I could, while continually being reminded of my photographic inadequacies by the amateur Korean photographers with very professional gear.

The one drawback to this palace, as opposed to ones I had seen in other Asian countries, was the lack of a truly immersive experience. There were very few vistas within the palace that didn't include skyscrapers and high-rise apartments rising in the background. Seoul is an amazing city, but it could certainly tone it down a notch at times.

I haven't the foggiest idea of how I'm going to spend the rest of this break. I might go down to Busan for New Year's, I might not. I'm due to host my first couchsurfer since arriving in Korea this weekend, so that will be nice. As for job prospects, I'm keeping my eyes open for the next great job, and my mind open to the benefits to my current less-than-great job. And for those concerned about Sydney, we got her tests back and the girl is doing fine: no tumor, no infection.

This will probably be my last post for the year, to bring my total to an even 50 since I started posting at the end of July. Not bad, not bad. So, by the Royal Decree of King Zach I, We hereby wish everyone in the Kingdom the happiest of New Years! Thank you all for your love and support over what was a turbulent, but ultimately successful 2010.