The beginning of November heralded a new semester in Pals Lab, therefore new classes, new schedules and a fuck lot to do, doubled up with the stress of all the make-up classes now that the kids are coming back after the swine 'flu panic (laughing on the other side of my face now). One of my new classes is IN1E, with Dean, a brand new kid in bright blue Harry Potter glasses. I can't decide yet if Dean was born as the Korean style Damien, or if he's just playing up, I swing wildly between the two assumptions, depending on what he's like each lesson. Today, he wasn't too bad, except for the time he thought it was funny to play dead on the floor, and was still there, with me trying to haul him up as Sarah teacher walked past. Not impressed.
Dean's mother is somewhat of a complainer. In fact, Dean has been with the school for about 3 months now and she's called at least once a week to moan about something. This begs the question, 'why doesn't she just take him out of school?' The answer to this, dear reader, I can't tell you, I can only assume that she just really likes to complain.
Since I've taken over the class, she's got me into a ton of trouble by complaining that I didn't give the kids homework one class - a disastrous mix up that wasn't really my fault, but still, then not making him do the subsequent two handouts, and, more importantly has complained that I'm confusing her little angel by pronouncing things differently to how they're pronounced on his Triumphs (the book we use) tape. It seems that I'm not American enough for her, which now means that I'm not American enough for Sarah. Sarah's tried this one before with the kindies when Jessica's mum also asked why I was speaking with a strange accent - it's called British, you plum. I got one over on that cowbag by acquiring her other child and now they both have a lovely British pronunciation. Ha! In your face, ajumma! Still, this week I was called into Sarah's office again and reminded that when I teach phonics, I must don an American accent, so that I don't ruin the poor little ones minds. Now, not to pass the buck, but there's a perfectly good American colleague right down the hall, if you want an AMERICAN accent, why don't you use the damn American to teach phonics?! Today's lesson comprised of me vainly attempting to use said accent, I even got lessons from Adam on how to speak with a Yank drawl, but no, it didn't work and I just a) made myself laugh and b) confused the kids even more. It didn't help that Sarah came in to watch most of the class.
I have decided to stop trying with the stupid accent, I have enough of an American twinge anyway and add it to 'stupid things Sarah tells me' pile. For instance, 'you hole punch wrong when making monthly plans' as in, you don't crack out your ruler and spirit level every time you put a piece of paper in a file that will only be seen by you and your co-teacher, 'you can't sit down at all during class', and 'you don't write your 'f's' properly. This all coming from a woman that until last month I thought kept asking me to make the kids read 'frontly', not 'fluently', as she apparently meant. Don't get me wrong, as a woman, I like my boss, but man, has she got some nitpicky ideas.
Friday, 20 November 2009
Pepero Day!
11/11. A sombre occasion in the UK. A time for remembering the dead and maimed in wars all over the world and buying poppies to help those that gave their lives for us. Not so much in Korea, where Pepero is a national day dedicated to...chocolate covered biscuit sticks!!!! Yep, you heard me. Chocolate covered biscuit sticks!!!
Rumour has it that Pepero day was started in Korea by a few schoolgirls, who gave Pepero to each other in the hope that they would all grow as tall and thin as a Pepero. Whether they gave the knobbly ones to each other in the hope that they would become disfigured and bumpy remains unknown. When Lotte, the (ahem), Japanese company (anyone Korean who is reading this, I jest. Lotte are Korean, yes, Korean. It's ok. Don't worry), heard about this they decided to fully endorse the idea and make every 11/11 a special day dedicated to consuming as many sticks as you can, resulting in a kind of Valentine's celebration. The shops are filled with as many different kinds of Pepero as you can imagine, strawberry flavour, multicoloured sticks, massive boxes set into heart shapes for couples, Pepero in mugs, as Catriona got from Patrick. It's rather sickening really, in all senses of the word.
On the positive side, I got about a million boxes from my kids. Which was rather nice. I've still got quite a few in my cupboard too, though the tasty little morsels are pretty hard to put down once you've opened a packet. Most of my boxes were covered in declarations of love and devotion, which, although I truly appreciated, were ripped up to enable me to get a quicker sugar rush - I need it when at work, ok? Those little beggars are such a handful. This meaning though, that by the end of this so sacred of days, I felt rather sick and much in need of some savoury foods. Or at least food that doesn't contain a high quantity of melamine. Yummeh.
Rumour has it that Pepero day was started in Korea by a few schoolgirls, who gave Pepero to each other in the hope that they would all grow as tall and thin as a Pepero. Whether they gave the knobbly ones to each other in the hope that they would become disfigured and bumpy remains unknown. When Lotte, the (ahem), Japanese company (anyone Korean who is reading this, I jest. Lotte are Korean, yes, Korean. It's ok. Don't worry), heard about this they decided to fully endorse the idea and make every 11/11 a special day dedicated to consuming as many sticks as you can, resulting in a kind of Valentine's celebration. The shops are filled with as many different kinds of Pepero as you can imagine, strawberry flavour, multicoloured sticks, massive boxes set into heart shapes for couples, Pepero in mugs, as Catriona got from Patrick. It's rather sickening really, in all senses of the word.
On the positive side, I got about a million boxes from my kids. Which was rather nice. I've still got quite a few in my cupboard too, though the tasty little morsels are pretty hard to put down once you've opened a packet. Most of my boxes were covered in declarations of love and devotion, which, although I truly appreciated, were ripped up to enable me to get a quicker sugar rush - I need it when at work, ok? Those little beggars are such a handful. This meaning though, that by the end of this so sacred of days, I felt rather sick and much in need of some savoury foods. Or at least food that doesn't contain a high quantity of melamine. Yummeh.
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Hhhmmm, Halloween!
I love Halloween! It's awesome! I'm not quite sure why I love Halloween, seeing as I'm not American, b
ut I do. When I was a kid I used to be the only one in our end of the village that celebrated it, I can still remember the twitch of the neighbours curtains as the fat child dressed in lycra was dragged up the drive to beg for candy. Still, when I got inside and gorged myself while watching scary movies, I was a very happy fat kid indeed.
This year, I was a bit stuck for what to wear. Inspiration hadn't struck and it was Thursday (as you'll remember one of the days I had off), which is barely heard of in my books. I decided, on a whim to go as quasimodo, as I had most of the outifit (tearing up a shirt, boots, trousers), so could do it on a skint girl's shoe string. Excellent. One disaster with face paint and some stamping on a shirt later and I was ready!
Seoul was Saturday night's destination. I was very excited by the subway, as I'd read online that Seoul decorated their subway cars with Halloween things and people went a bit mental. All I found were some very distainful 20 somethings who didn't enjoy a girl dressed as a hunchback cuddling up to them for a photo. Goodness knows why. We headed on to Itaewon as I wanted to give the Wolfhound a go, as their was a fancy dress competition. Soon as we got in we realised that this was not going to be an easy competition and also that the place was so packed it was hard to breathe properly. Good for me, as I was stooped low to the ground, but the others, not so much. The standard of costume in my favourite pie selling pub was great, however and I felt pre
tty humbled. There was Flight of the Conchords, ajummas, hippies, many Supermen, though one guy trumped the rest by 
showing off most of his body, much to female appreciation and other such weird, wonderful and thoughtful outfits. We left.
We wandered aimlessly for a while, taking in the array of bloody colours and then headed to the Bungalow, a lovely club down the streets behind the Hilton where Gecko's et al is. They play awesome music and there is sand on the floor to give the place a holiday vibe (though I'm not sure how this'll hold up in December...). We took our seats and the campest man I've ever met came up and asked Ruth and I if we'd like to be in the fancy dress competition. I said yes straight away, as did Ruth, though on seeing the women in suspenders that we'd be up against she donated her spot to Patrick 'ninja assassin' Kim.
The rounds consisted of questions about James Bond, costume originality (or somesuch) and a catwalk show. I managed to stay in character the whole night, which was rather hard, though fun, specially when I spotted Anda in the crowd and humped the camp man whilst doing my catwalk display. It came down to Batman and
a bondgirl, Super Mario and me. The tension was high. I was already amazed I beaten the women wearing nought to at least 3rd place, so I was happy as, well, quasi. Batman and the girl got chucked and it was just me and Mario. I decided to lob his banana peels at him in one desperate final attempt to sway the judges, the crowd (luckily our group had all managed to get the front row) were going wild and the
n, he announced it! I was the bloody winner! 500,000won! I'll thank you very much! Needless to say, I went on to Jane's Groove with a massive smile, having paid of
f the money I'd borrowed to go out and danced the night away! Just goes to show that using stuff that cost nothing from your tiny enough wardrobe somehow works. Go figure! =o)
ut I do. When I was a kid I used to be the only one in our end of the village that celebrated it, I can still remember the twitch of the neighbours curtains as the fat child dressed in lycra was dragged up the drive to beg for candy. Still, when I got inside and gorged myself while watching scary movies, I was a very happy fat kid indeed.This year, I was a bit stuck for what to wear. Inspiration hadn't struck and it was Thursday (as you'll remember one of the days I had off), which is barely heard of in my books. I decided, on a whim to go as quasimodo, as I had most of the outifit (tearing up a shirt, boots, trousers), so could do it on a skint girl's shoe string. Excellent. One disaster with face paint and some stamping on a shirt later and I was ready!
Seoul was Saturday night's destination. I was very excited by the subway, as I'd read online that Seoul decorated their subway cars with Halloween things and people went a bit mental. All I found were some very distainful 20 somethings who didn't enjoy a girl dressed as a hunchback cuddling up to them for a photo. Goodness knows why. We headed on to Itaewon as I wanted to give the Wolfhound a go, as their was a fancy dress competition. Soon as we got in we realised that this was not going to be an easy competition and also that the place was so packed it was hard to breathe properly. Good for me, as I was stooped low to the ground, but the others, not so much. The standard of costume in my favourite pie selling pub was great, however and I felt pre
tty humbled. There was Flight of the Conchords, ajummas, hippies, many Supermen, though one guy trumped the rest by 
showing off most of his body, much to female appreciation and other such weird, wonderful and thoughtful outfits. We left.We wandered aimlessly for a while, taking in the array of bloody colours and then headed to the Bungalow, a lovely club down the streets behind the Hilton where Gecko's et al is. They play awesome music and there is sand on the floor to give the place a holiday vibe (though I'm not sure how this'll hold up in December...). We took our seats and the campest man I've ever met came up and asked Ruth and I if we'd like to be in the fancy dress competition. I said yes straight away, as did Ruth, though on seeing the women in suspenders that we'd be up against she donated her spot to Patrick 'ninja assassin' Kim.
The rounds consisted of questions about James Bond, costume originality (or somesuch) and a catwalk show. I managed to stay in character the whole night, which was rather hard, though fun, specially when I spotted Anda in the crowd and humped the camp man whilst doing my catwalk display. It came down to Batman and
a bondgirl, Super Mario and me. The tension was high. I was already amazed I beaten the women wearing nought to at least 3rd place, so I was happy as, well, quasi. Batman and the girl got chucked and it was just me and Mario. I decided to lob his banana peels at him in one desperate final attempt to sway the judges, the crowd (luckily our group had all managed to get the front row) were going wild and then, he announced it! I was the bloody winner! 500,000won! I'll thank you very much! Needless to say, I went on to Jane's Groove with a massive smile, having paid of
f the money I'd borrowed to go out and danced the night away! Just goes to show that using stuff that cost nothing from your tiny enough wardrobe somehow works. Go figure! =o)
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