This is My Life Now
As a little girl, I dreamed of a life overseas serving God full-time, surrounded by a language and culture foreign to me, and I imagined what that would be like. Twenty years later and that dream has become a reality, and it is so surreal. The feeling is just simply incredible.
Today was my first day teaching... and I survived! Actually, I more than survived... allow me to explain what I mean by that.
Five days ago, I arrived in South Korea for my first time ever. After a long flight, followed by a long bus ride, I arrived at my new home in a high-rise apartment overlooking Naju. I learned that I would be sharing the apartment with fellow-teachers Mindy and Peter and their two young children for the next four days (until their return to America).
When I left the U.S., I was really in the dark. All I had was the vague idea that I would be teaching elementry to high school aged Korean children how to speak English. I did not know what my apartment would like, or who I would be living with, or what the curriculum looked like (if there was one), who my co-teacher's were, what type of training would be provided (if any), how to pronounce my employer's name... or any other important details, really.
What I did know is that I would need an open mind, a flexible spirit, and the expectation that I should not have any expectations... the so that is what I came with. And I really think that is the key to how I have survived so well thus far. It is what has made all of the cultural strangeness and misunderstandings I have encountered in these first days hilarious rather than frustrating. (Except for the time at church before I understood the force of Korean automatic glass doors when my freshly bought and untasted, beautiful, iced vanilla latte was suddenly jolted from my hand and spewed across the floor... lesson learned).
The day after my arrival to Naju was spent recovering from jet lag and observing classes. It is already odd to think back to just a few days ago when I first set foot into the academy halls. The buildings seemed a little bit run-down inside and out, then. There was unfinished landscaping projects outside, walls with torn wallpaper and cluttered corners. No projectors in the classrooms, a small and partially outdated curriculum library in the teacher's lounge, and a boss that spoke broken English.
I sat in the classes of the teachers I would soon be replacing and listened to them intertwine Korean words with their lessons and command the classrooms like they were reading the back of their hand. I realized that the shoes I would be filling after they left were larger than my own feet and I wondered for about the billionth time that day what in the world I had gotten myself into.
The next day was about the same, but with more clarity since I had had the chance to sit down with the principle and finally be assigned my specific classes after my first day of observation. I took notes vigorously, but at the end of the day I still had my doubts as to my true ability to teach these classes.
On Saturday, I was given the most comforting gift of all from Mindy and Peter... the curriculum materials for my classes. OK! Now I began to see some light. Two days to become thoroughly versed in several levels of curriculum... that was doable... right? I spent my weekend mixed with studying and seeing the city.
Naju is a beautiful place. And I was pleased to find that, although, small, it offered all of the desired amenities of this young, female, American English teacher -- coffee shops, pizza parlors (along with various other Western-style cuisine), grocery stores, a gym, and shopping wherewithal one could find fashionable items of Korean clothing to add to one's wardrobe. The scenic portions of the city consisted of a river that winds through the city and under ornate Asian-esque bridges, city gates, cobblestone alleyways, and luscious shrubbery resembling what one might imagine finding in such corners of South Korea.
By Sunday night, despite my short adventurings, I had several pages of lesson plans and was actually beginning to feel pretty good about the inevitable classes of Monday.
---
Monday morning. I awake. I drink coffee with my devotions. Then I prepare myself for the day, dancing (yes, literally dancing) as I apply makeup and select a suitable first-day-teacher outfit.
I teach my classes and they are a breeze. I am pretty sure the kids love me (this may or may not be partially influenced by the gifts/bribes of chocolate I bestow upon them). When classes are over, my co-teacher, Malia asks me if I want to walk to the MiniMart for a snack before our tutor students arrive. As we are walking, she turns to me and says, "Well, this is it! We are English teachers in South Korea. This is our life now!"
I nod and smile. Why yes, yes it is. And it is pretty epic.
Today was my first day teaching... and I survived! Actually, I more than survived... allow me to explain what I mean by that.
Five days ago, I arrived in South Korea for my first time ever. After a long flight, followed by a long bus ride, I arrived at my new home in a high-rise apartment overlooking Naju. I learned that I would be sharing the apartment with fellow-teachers Mindy and Peter and their two young children for the next four days (until their return to America).
When I left the U.S., I was really in the dark. All I had was the vague idea that I would be teaching elementry to high school aged Korean children how to speak English. I did not know what my apartment would like, or who I would be living with, or what the curriculum looked like (if there was one), who my co-teacher's were, what type of training would be provided (if any), how to pronounce my employer's name... or any other important details, really.
What I did know is that I would need an open mind, a flexible spirit, and the expectation that I should not have any expectations... the so that is what I came with. And I really think that is the key to how I have survived so well thus far. It is what has made all of the cultural strangeness and misunderstandings I have encountered in these first days hilarious rather than frustrating. (Except for the time at church before I understood the force of Korean automatic glass doors when my freshly bought and untasted, beautiful, iced vanilla latte was suddenly jolted from my hand and spewed across the floor... lesson learned).
The day after my arrival to Naju was spent recovering from jet lag and observing classes. It is already odd to think back to just a few days ago when I first set foot into the academy halls. The buildings seemed a little bit run-down inside and out, then. There was unfinished landscaping projects outside, walls with torn wallpaper and cluttered corners. No projectors in the classrooms, a small and partially outdated curriculum library in the teacher's lounge, and a boss that spoke broken English.
I sat in the classes of the teachers I would soon be replacing and listened to them intertwine Korean words with their lessons and command the classrooms like they were reading the back of their hand. I realized that the shoes I would be filling after they left were larger than my own feet and I wondered for about the billionth time that day what in the world I had gotten myself into.
The next day was about the same, but with more clarity since I had had the chance to sit down with the principle and finally be assigned my specific classes after my first day of observation. I took notes vigorously, but at the end of the day I still had my doubts as to my true ability to teach these classes.
On Saturday, I was given the most comforting gift of all from Mindy and Peter... the curriculum materials for my classes. OK! Now I began to see some light. Two days to become thoroughly versed in several levels of curriculum... that was doable... right? I spent my weekend mixed with studying and seeing the city.
Naju is a beautiful place. And I was pleased to find that, although, small, it offered all of the desired amenities of this young, female, American English teacher -- coffee shops, pizza parlors (along with various other Western-style cuisine), grocery stores, a gym, and shopping wherewithal one could find fashionable items of Korean clothing to add to one's wardrobe. The scenic portions of the city consisted of a river that winds through the city and under ornate Asian-esque bridges, city gates, cobblestone alleyways, and luscious shrubbery resembling what one might imagine finding in such corners of South Korea.
By Sunday night, despite my short adventurings, I had several pages of lesson plans and was actually beginning to feel pretty good about the inevitable classes of Monday.
---
Monday morning. I awake. I drink coffee with my devotions. Then I prepare myself for the day, dancing (yes, literally dancing) as I apply makeup and select a suitable first-day-teacher outfit.
I teach my classes and they are a breeze. I am pretty sure the kids love me (this may or may not be partially influenced by the gifts/bribes of chocolate I bestow upon them). When classes are over, my co-teacher, Malia asks me if I want to walk to the MiniMart for a snack before our tutor students arrive. As we are walking, she turns to me and says, "Well, this is it! We are English teachers in South Korea. This is our life now!"
I nod and smile. Why yes, yes it is. And it is pretty epic.
That sounds like an awesome atmosphere, can't wait to read more!
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to sharing more with you Andrea! :)
ReplyDelete