The Last Week of Kindergarten

The kindergarten“hagwon” (private school) that I work at has a thorough curriculum. We teach language arts, phonics, creative arts, arts and crafts, theme, science, math, gym, cooking, and computer class among others. There are monthly targets for the material that needs to be covered for each class. For many of the subjects, my students (Saturn Class) have workbooks that the principal charged their parents an arm and a leg for.

When I first arrived here with zero teaching experience, having a structured curriculum was invaluable. I had to do little planning of my own.  We had the books and I knew the pages that needed to be covered each class. As beneficial as this was in the beginning, the rigidity became increasingly frustrating as I became more familiar with my students and their skill level.

There have been many concepts in phonics class particularly that my students have had trouble with. For some foolish reason, I believed it was beneficial to spend additional time on these difficult topics so that my students had a chance to grasp them, even if it meant that we didn’t meet the page target for that class

Sometime in December, the (Korean) head teacher at our school approached me and said,

“Can you finish all of the books by the end of February?”

“That’s going to be very difficult,” I replied. “There is a lot of material to cover and some of the concepts are quite challenging.”

“I know, but it looks very bad if the books go home unfinished. The parents will be unsatisfied. Do you think that you could go faster?”

“I… guess so.”

After discovering how many pages still needed to be completed, the principal decided that it would be best if my kindergarten class had no more unnecessary (re: fun) classes. Arts and crafts, and cooking classes were removed from my schedule and the number of music, gym, and computer classes were significantly reduced. Needless to say, my students were not happy when they learned about the changes, especially when they discovered that their favorite classes would be replaced by phonics and language arts.

For the next two months, my students worked hard to complete their workbooks, but in February (the last month of the school year) I could tell that we still wouldn’t be able to finish them at our current pace. As ridiculous as the idea seemed to me, we needed to go faster.

On Monday morning I stood in front of my class and said,

“You guys, we have a lot of work to do in our books. We have to finish mannny pages. If we work verrry hard for the next two weeks, then I promise our last week will be verrry fun! O.K.?”

“O.K. teacher.”

I wasn’t sure if they knew what they had agreed to.

For the next two weeks we proceeded to fly through pages and pages of the workbooks. I was frustrated because I knew that my students were only retaining a tiny fraction of what we covered. They were frustrated because I was making them complete several pages of each book throughout the entire day. It wasn’t fun, but when it looked like they were ready to quit I would remind them of the promise I had made.

“You guys are excellent students. You are working sooo hard. Remember, if we get through these books, then our last week will be full of fun classes.”

During the next two weeks I failed at teaching, but we succeeded in getting through all the workbooks. The answers to each drill, problem, and question were written down with my corrections and signature on every page.

On the weekend I did a lot of brainstorming and research about exciting activities that we could do. Below is footage of the last week with my kindergarten class. They’ve worked so hard and I hope that I could make our last days together fun. I love these kids so much.

Monday

                            

Tuesday

                            

Wednesday

                            

Thursday

                                                             Friday

My Massive Birthday Dinner

I turned 25 on February 17th. For my birthday dinner, some friends and I ate at D'Maris, a high-end buffet restaurant. I have eaten at this place a few times before and it ranks very high on the list of restaurants I've been to. The price for a dinner there is around 35000 Won (~$31), which for me is a bargain.

This is what went through my head as we were being walked to our table during my first trip there:

"Wow! Fancy. Damn there are a lot of tables. I see food. That looks really good. Are we really still walking? More food. Nice aquarium. How far away is our table? This place is really nice. More food. I am so ready for this."

The variety of foods offered at this place astounds me. There's steak, crab legs, roast beef, smoked salmon, tropical fruit, an extensive salad bar, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, and Korean foods, a variety of breads, cakes, pies, cookies, cheeses, and crackers. You can watch all of this being freshly prepared by the chefs behind the food stations. 

In addition to the great food, D'Maris is clean and beautifully decorated. From the food to the chairs, everything looks high-quality. The restaurant is also enormous; able to seat over 500 people.

Normally I am able to eat quite a bit of food, but a couple hours before my birthday dinner I had ran over 30km. When I arrived, my appetite was particularly voracious:

Smoked Salmon, Grilled Vegetables, Grilled Fish, 

Honey-Garlic Sausage and Potato Salad, Sweet Corn, Teriyaki Chicken.

Shrimp, Salmon, Crab, and Eel Nigiri Sushi. Tuna, Cheese, Vegetable, Fruit Rolls.

Sweet and Sour Pork, Fried Rice, Egg Noodles, 

Honey-Garlic Chicken, Caramelized Sweet Potatoes.

Fried Chicken, Fried Fish, Tempura

Shrimp Salad, Tomato-Basil Salad, Grilled Vegetables, Korean Dumpling,

 Korean Pancake, Cheese Pizza, Pepperoni Pizza

Cheese Pizza, Pepperoni Pizza, Grapes, Apple Slices, Fruit Salad, Purple Mangosteens

Waffle, Bread, Coffee Cake, Chocolate Cakes

Cookies, Bread Pudding, Cheese Cake, Chocolate Roll, Ice-Cream

More Chocolate Cake and Ice-Cream

After eating all this food, I wanted nothing more than lie down and take a nap. That's exactly what I did when I got back home. What a great meal.

The Dragon and the Rabbit

I have a friend. Her name is Kasham. In November of 2010 I was invited to her birthday dinner by a mutual friend. From our first interaction I could tell that she was special. She came up and introduced herself and thanked me for joining the celebration. I apologized for not having brought a gift. She laughed. “We only just met.”

Kasham had previously worked in Ulsan, but now she lived in Seoul. She had come down to her Korean “hometown” to celebrate her birthday with friends. She had many and I could tell that they all thought highly of her.

As time passed, we began seeing each other more and more often. I would look forward to our visits with great anticipation. I knew that a weekend spent with her would be filled with laughter and delicious food.

On the surface, Kasham and I are very different people. If we were involved in making a movie, Kasham would be the star of the show and I would be behind the scenes. She is socially fearless and daringly honest about herself. I could choose ten random people and their combined personality wouldn’t be able to match hers. I’ve met very few people that are able to make me laugh the way that she does. I’m happy just being around her. I have always had trouble letting people close to me. I have barriers in place, vestiges from my past that protect my feelings from getting hurt. Kasham was able to break through them quite effortlessly.

Despite any superficial differences, I feel that we are alike in some important ways. Kasham has attitude of gratefulness that I can very much relate to. I love how much she loves life. She is someone that understands how fortunate we are to be alive. One morning while I was staying at her place, she shared a very personal story of how she had overcome some demons in her past. To me, that was when our bond was cemented. She has an appreciation for life that I feel is difficult to achieve without experiencing great pain and darkness.

I painted these pictures and wrote this poem for her. It’s about an encounter between a timid rabbit and a powerful dragon. Although hesitant at first, the rabbit is soon captivated by the dragon’s charm. The two become friends and together head off on a journey. Along the way, something happens to the rabbit. Being in the dragon’s presence has changed him forever. The two part ways at the end, but the dragon will always be in the rabbit’s heart. 

"The Dragon and the Rabbit"

"Down comes Dragon from the trees,

As the rabbit looks quietly.

Face to face, eyes now meet,

Rabbit can feel the dragon's heat.

Timid Rabbit does not hide,

He's not afraid, but mystified.

A change occurs from deep within,

The dragon has a knowing grin.

High above the two do soar,

Rabbit views life in a way not before.

Comes the time for their paths to part,

But Dragon now lives in Rabbit's heart."

Kasham was born in 1976, the year of the dragon. I was born in 1987, the year of the rabbit. I feel that both of our characters match these animals quite well. Kasham’s personality is larger than life. She is courageous and strong. I am quiet and shy, preferring to go unnoticed. 

Soon I will leave Korea, but Kasham will stay. I am going to miss her deeply. I hope that one day our paths will cross again. 

Humility

Is there a more challenging sin to overcome than pride? As much as I've tried to silence and expel the ego, it has managed to announce its presence time and time again. This frustrates me because I believe that practicing humbleness plays a critical role in my personal development. Moreover, I worry that if one day I managed to overcome my pride, I would feel very mighty for having done something that not many others could.

With that said, here are a few of the actions I taken to cultivate humbleness. 

Avoiding Judgment of Others

I make an effort to be as non-judgmental as I can. When I catch my ego criticizing others for frivolous reasons, I try my best to put it in its place.

"How insecure you are to be judging (him, her, them) for that. Why do you care so much about something so unimportant?"

I feel that much judgment is born from fear. People judge others for the way they look, what they do, and how they think probably because they fear looking, doing, and thinking that way themselves. When I notice that I am being judgmental, I try to analyze why. I ask myself what I am afraid of.

For much of my youth I felt very judged by others. I feared even greater, far more vicious judgment if they knew who I actually was. It was a venomous feeling and it would truly upset me if I was responsible for making another feel that way.

Not Needing to be Right

This is particularly challenging for me. There have been too many times in past situations where it wasn't enough for me to know that I was right. I had to make sure that the other person also knew that. It took me a while to realize how counterproductive this was when trying to build relationships. And almost without exception, the topic argued over wouldn't be of any lasting significance.   

If I'm ever asked for advice or my opinion, I usually don't give the "Do (x, y, z)" answer that the person who asked is looking for. I will often add the qualifier "...for me". I try to emphasize that what I'm describing is simply my experience. What works for me may not work for others. I realize that this may come across as indecisiveness, but I really feel that people need to reach their own conclusions independently. 

Thanking Others

When I receive help, I always try to ensure that the person who provided it really feels my appreciation. Drive, resourcefulness, and luck can only take me so far. There is so much that I couldn't have been able to do without the encouragement and support I've been given by the incredible people in my life. 

Contemplating Insignificance 

I am one of seven billion people on a rock hurtling through space around a massive nuclear reaction known as the sun. Without the energy from this giant inferno in space, nothing I love would exist. And although the sun has given me... everything, it is only one of 100 billion stars in "our" galaxy. On top of that, there are over 100 billion galaxies in the observable universe. 

It's difficult for my ego to become inflated when I think of how stupefyingly small I am.

Conversations with Myself and the Amazing Gift

Whenever I dread doing something that I know needs to be done, or when I’m feeling lazy and unmotivated in general, I will often use a particularly effective tactic to get inspired. I’ll imagine a conversation with my future self. This future version of me possesses skill, ability, experience, and knowledge that far surpass my current levels.  He’s what I aspire to be.

 

“Why are you just sitting there?” he’ll ask. “You have work to do.”

“I’m so tired and I’m not feeling…”

“Stop!” he commands. “Your inaction will cause me to be weaker, slower, and duller. How could you possibly allow that to happen? You have a limited amount of time on this planet. The longer you wait, the more distant I become. Soon, I may be out of your reach entirely. I know this frightens you. Now, get off your ass and turn me into a reality.”

His words are very convincing.

During especially challenging runs, I remind myself that the body is not the same as the user of it. They are intimately intertwined, but remain distinct. The body is an incredible tool; a vessel that allows me to navigate and experience the physical world, but it is not me. It is not the “I”. I’ve found minor aches and pains become far less noticeable when I view my body in this way. I’m not in pain. The body is just experiencing an uncomfortable side effect that occurs when it’s pushed to its limits. The more I practice this way of thinking, the more I’m able to tolerate.

My body is a living machine capable of self-repair and improvement. Unlike lifeless, metal and plastic tools, my body strengthens and becomes more efficient with use. It is also the only thing I know that I’ll be able to keep throughout my entire life. Anyone and anything else can be taken from me at anytime. I get to keep this body until my time is up. Some people spend thousands of dollars upgrading and renovating their cars and houses, without investing any resources on their first and far superior home and vehicle.

Time will eventually wear my body down and I know that one day it won’t be able to do the things that it can do now. So today I am going to show my appreciation for this amazing gift and go make use of it.  

My Korean Apartment

I thought I'd make a video tour of my apartment in South Korea. I remember the night that the principal and head teacher of my school brought me here. I stepped inside my room without first taking off my shoes. They looked at me as if I had just strangled a kitten. "I'm sorry!" I said as I rushed back to the entrance to remove them.


I initially thought it was quite small, but the size of this apartment is very typical for a single person here. I've come to realize that there is more than enough room for me. It's fortunate that I am not a hoarder. The space for clutter is not available, and I have no problem with that.

By far the greatest drawback (for me) of a place this small is the lack of counter space. I had to move my computer desk into the kitchen so that I had a surface to prepare food on. I also really miss having an oven, but I've found that a slow-cooker can be used to make a surprising variety of meals.

The Joy of Grocery Shopping

I enjoy looking at, shopping for, and ordering food. I take my time when reading a menu, even if I've been to the same restaurant a dozen times before and  know exactly what I'm going to get. I read and re-read the descriptions of the dishes. I don't toss a flyer away before studying every food item that is advertised. I will saunter through a farmer's market with no intention of actually spending money. But the food/shopping experience that I enjoy most of all is a trip to the grocery store.


I usually begin my adventure in the middle of the store where all the boxes, cans, jars, and other packaged goods are kept. Little of what I purchase comes from this section, but I still enjoy browsing over the various products; looking at their interesting package designs. I'll pick up some tomato sauce, canned corn, green tea, peanut butter, canned mackerel, and any spices that I'm running low on before moving on.


After that I make my way towards my favorite part of the building; the produce section. It's the natural colors that draw me in. Every shade of the rainbow is represented and it's all beautifully arranged. It's as if I'm walking through art. Once I descend from the initial aesthetic wonder, I begin adding items to my cart. As I pick up the different vegetables I think about the nutrients they contain. Red cabbage for the anthocyanin polyphenols, carrots for the beta-carotene, garlic for the allicin. I know and appreciate how these nutrients will nourish my body and mind.


I enjoy thinking about the meals I could create with all of the options that are in front of me. "Maybe I'll make a broccoli salad with slivered almonds and dried cranberries. What about mixing grated carrots with pineapple chunks, raisins, and coconut? I could make a stir-fry with these bell peppers, sugar snap peas, and some ginger. Hmm..."


I'll then walk towards the seafood section. "Wow! Those salmon steaks look incredible. They'd taste amazing with some creamy dill sauce." Next comes the meat and poultry. I look at the package of skinless chicken breast as a blank canvas for me to paint on. Finally I'll go down the frozen food aisle and pick up some anti-oxidant rich blueberries.


I pay for the groceries and leave the building happy. I just bought a bunch of art supplies and now it's time to create. I'll then get the added joy of being able to eat what I made.


After putting away the groceries I feel an ancestral contentment. I have food. For the time being, everything is fine. I do realize just how far removed I am from the true experience. I didn't gather or grow any of the vegetables or slaughter and butcher any of the animal flesh I just purchased conveniently from a store, but the feeling remains.

A typical grocery haul.