'Tis the season for cancelled classes

It's always a difficult challenge to plan lessons for the month or more of classes after students have completed their curriculum and written their final exams. Basically, I have free reign to make 'free topic' lessons on a topic of my choosing. The students are not particularly interested in learning or paying attention, so I need to make the lessons fun with engaging games or videos. Thankfully, I don't need to completely fill the time myself, since there is an unusually high number of cancelled classes at this time of year.

Last week on Tuesday, two of my five classes were cancelled at my boys' middle school. A guest lecturer was brought in from outside the school to speak about a topic. I was not informed of the topic, but when my co-teacher realized it was our two classes that were cancelled she squealed with joy. The two classes are by far the worst, most difficult classes in the school. Teachers always complain about the classes and lament when it's their turn to teach them. Thus, the complete joy when both of those classes were cancelled for the guest lecturer.

Back at my main school on Wednesday, I walked into a third-grade class fully prepared to teach a Christmas lesson and sing 'Santa Claus is coming to town' with my students. But several students met me at the door and pleaded with me to let them practice their dance routine for the school festival instead of having English class. It was, in their words, 'very important that they practice dancing.' They explained that they had seen another class's dance routine realized theirs wasn't up to par.

I consulted with the Korean co-teacher and we decided to let the kids practice their dance routine. I just sat back and watched the class try to choreograph and synchronize their moves to the soundtrack of a K-pop compilation. I was actually really impressed with their dance moves, although some of the less enthusiastic students were clearly just going through the motions. I decided to give all of my 3rd grades classes time to dance instead of teaching. They were more than happy to have an active class, and I was pleased to sit down and watch. I gave each student a candy cane at the end of the lesson.

The next week on Wednesday, the PE teacher had asked to take my first period class for an activity. I wouldn't need to teach. I readily agreed to this - another cancelled class. As it turned out, she also wanted my second period class as well. I learned that when I went to the class at the scheduled time and found it empty.

That very same day, after my morning classes were cancelled, I learned that a student at my boys' school had test positive for COVID-19. I would need to leave the school to go get tested. This meant that my afternoon classes were to be cancelled as well. I didn't teach a single class on that day. My COVID-19 test came back negative early the next day.

Thursday was officially the day of the much anticipated school festival, so again all classes were cancelled that day. I observed the students perform various musical, dramatic, and dance performances from my seat in the gymnasium. It was entertaining, and I couldn't help but take a small bit of credit for giving my students extra practice time to perfect their dance. No, not really. But the students did a great job and I was amazed at how talented the students were.

Friday was Christmas Eve. Classes were held in the morning. I finally had classes to teach - this time, two classes of second year students in the morning. Afternoon classes were cancelled and teachers were free to leave the school at 1:30pm. I had the head teacher and vice-principal approve and sign for my early leave, then I was out the door. For this one week, 11 of my 21 classes were cancelled. It was an interesting but restful week. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Online classes and online problems

For the first time in several months, classes at my boys' school are online. This is a short-term measure because of the high number of cases in Korea and also because some 2nd-grade middle schoolers were exposed to the COVID-19. So far there are 10 confirmed cases at the school.

When I reported to the boys' school on Monday morning, the 1st grade English teacher, who I usually teach with on Mondays, was absent. I was told that 'her condition is not good.' She had a COVID-19 test on the weekend and received her negative result this morning but she still had a fever. She stayed home from school that day.

So, arrangements were made for me to sign in and conduct the class while she signed in from her home to assist with the lesson. Usually we would sit side by side for online classes at the school. I was given her login credentials and a key to the classroom. Several problems occurred when I was setting up for the class. First, the internet was not working. I plugged in the ethernet cable but received a message of 'no internet'. I quickly called my main co-teacher to come help. She fiddled with things for a while and then brought in another teacher to help. The class had already started, so I'm sure the students (and co-teacher) were sitting at home wondering what was going on. The teacher was finally able to sign me into the WIFI.

That's when the next problem occurred. I was unable to log into the co-teachers Zoom account. I tried several times and it didn't work. My main co-teacher frantically scrolled through her phone. She soon realized that the password she had given me was wrong. It contained an extra digit, so that's why I couldn't log in. Here's the kicker, by the time we figured out the password was wrong, I had already attempted to log in too many times and the account was locked.

There was nothing else to do at that point but give up. I was instructed just to go wait in the staff office. My first period class would go without their lesson that day. This was the first time in two years that technical difficulties had prevented us from teaching an entire lesson. Many times before, technical difficulties had cost me 5, 10, even 20 minutes of a 45-minute class, but we eventually sort out the problem and teach in what time we have remaining.

By the time second period started, the teacher had recovered and unlocked her Zoom account. I was able to teach the remaining four classes that day. Things went relatively smoothly from there, except for the usual inefficiencies of online teaching. 

The teacher takes roll call in every online class, and that eats up at least 5 minutes and sometimes 10 minutes of my class time. Anytime you call on a student, it always takes a long time for them to respond. They are usually not paying attention to the class. They may be playing games or doing something else when they suddenly hear the teacher, who has been calling their name for the past minute or so. With so much time wasted, I can only cover few things in class. Learning is truly ineffeicient, but the students seem to love it. They get to stay at home. They don't have to wear their school uniforms. There is amble opportunity to play games or do other things, which would easily be spotted and stopped by the teacher if class were held in a classroom.

Things rapidly change because of the COVID-19 outbreak. Last week I was told that I wouldn't have classes on Tuesday because of a field trip. Then a few days later, I was told the field trip was cancelled and that I would have in-person lessons. Then on Monday, I was told all of my classes would be online. It's not easy to make the transition since a lot of lesson activities are designed either for online classes or in-person classes. The uncertainty adds a lot of work to my schedule. 

Online classes come with online problems, every time.

Covid test and Covid things

This week started ominously with a text from my co-teacher that read, "Bad news...". There had been a few confirmed cases of COVID-19 amongst the 2nd graders at my boys' middle school. All of the teachers were to get test for COVID-19 before they could report for school. Even though I don't teach 2nd graders at that school, and hadn't been to the school since last Tuesday, I also needed to get tested.

This was on a Sunday, so I went for my test on Monday morning. The results of the test wouldn't be known until the next day, so I missed one day of school. I was asked to send my lesson PowerPoint presentation so another teacher could teach it, but ultimately all classes at the school were cancelled so that was unnecessary.

The testing centre opened at 9am and I arrived a few minutes after that to see an already long line stretched along the sidewalk and doubled back. It was a long wait, but at least the rain started to let up. I had been to this testing centre twice before and was now familiar with the protocol. As always, a staff member helped me fill out the Korean forms. There is a brief interview before the test and the staff was able to ask basic questions in English. "Why did you come here today?" I answered, "Some of my students have COVID-19". 

The test was pretty much the same as always. Sit down in a chair and pass your vile to the staff. Remove you mask and have a much-too-long prod shoved up your nose and scratched about. At least this time, they didn't test the back of the throat which is also very unpleasant. Not sure why the change but I didn't complain. I put my mask on and left the facility. I forgot to mention that this entire process occurs outdoors - waiting in line, filling out forms, interview, and test. It takes place in the courtyard of a medical facility and there are plenty of staff on hand to make sure things run smoothly and the line moves along as quickly as possible.

All this happened while South Korea is facing a major COVID-19 wave. The country has set another record high for cases while critical cases, deaths, and strain on hospitals is higher than ever. We reached a previously unheard of 7000+ cases per day in the country. Certain social distancing measure were reinstated after the botched 'Living with Covid' scheme that the government initiated. I can't believe there was talk of removing the facemask requirements for people who had been vaccinated. We're a long way from that now.

Also new to South Korea is a digital vaccine passport. Everyone must download the phone app and register their proof of vaccination. This proof is required for many businesses including restaurants, cafes, gyms, and so on. I spent much of my weekend trying to download the app and get myself registered. One day before the nationwide requirement for digital proof of vaccination, my co-teacher hadn't heard of it, so I was on my own. After great difficulty, and using a digital translator, I had finally downloaded the app and registered my proof of vaccination. I also made an appointment for February, when I would become eligible, for my third vaccination, the so-called booster shot.

 
My COVID test came back the next morning. I was negative. So, I was required to go to school that day. I had five online classes and sat through a staff meeting where the school principal updated everyone on the status of the COVID-19 cases at the school. The plan is to conduct online lessons in the short term and then switch back to in-person classes the next week. Also, the 2nd grade final exams were postponed by one week.

I'm starting my preparations to return to Canada, so that means I need to get my documents in order. My co-teacher wrote a helpful note in Korean that I took to the vaccination clinic on Thursday to get an English language and Korean language hard copy verification of my two previous vaccinations. I will need this to show proof of vaccination, among other things, when returning to Canada to classify as a 'vaccinated person'. Completing this process will allow me to avoid a long hotel-stay, quarantine for my first weeks in Canada, assuming the rules aren't altered again.

It's so odd, almost two years after arriving in Korea, we're back where we started - COVID-19 wave, online classes, and social distancing restrictions.

Just a random week

On Tuesday of this week I taught a short lesson on greetings with my grade 3 middle school boys classes. I want to move them away from standard greetings such as the all too common, "How are you? I'm fine, and you?" I introduced some more casual greetings like, "How is your day going? What's up? What's going on?" These aren't things they'll learn in their textbooks but it will help them sound more natural when speaking English.

After the short lesson, we played a game that involved the Korean version of Rock, Paper, Scissors. It's called Kai, Bai, Bo in Korean and is used to solve most any dispute that the students may have. Well, the boys classes are super into competition, so the game quickly got wild and loud. At one point, a boy did a soccer style victory slide across the floor of the classroom to celebrate his rock, paper, scissors win and to taunt his opponent. I gave chocolates to the winning team, so the classes were more energized than ever. The students are finished with their curriculum and tests, so motivating them to learn or do anything productive in the classes is challenging, to say the least. Chocolate is a good motivator.

This week also saw all-time highs for covid-10 infections in Korea. With over 5000 cases per day, we are firmly into another wave and the strain on hospitals is becoming dire. Predictably, the 'living with covid' phase the government initiated some weeks back was completely premature and a terrible mistake according to doctors and anyone not hyper-focused on economic results. Even with this new spike in cases, the government said they would not reinstate previous restrictions not wanting to 'lose the progress that was achieved'. But I ask, what progress? We have more cases now than ever. 

Unsurprisingly, after a few more days of pressure and high case counts, the government backtracked and has implemented new social distancing restrictions on the population. Fewer people are allowed to gather at restaurant. Instead of 8 people, only six can dine together. Still too many, I think. There are reports of a digital vaccine passport being required for entry into certain businesses like restaurants and cafes, but I'm having trouble finding current information on the requirement.

Winter has definitely arrived in Korea. This week, the mornings have been cold, around 2° or 3° each day. It warms up a little throughout the afternoon but still chilly. Classrooms are being heated but also ventilated. So heating units are on and windows are open. I am living in a chilly bizzaro world.

On Friday morning, as I was gathering my things for my first period class, my co-teacher asked if I knew about the schedule change today. Of course, I did not. An extra class was added to my schedule at the end of the day. Surprise! Hope you have a spare lesson prepared. It's always been a nightmare scenario that I'd have no lesson planned for a class. Luckily, after nearly two years of teaching, I have enough material to draw on in these scenarios. 

With the surprise bonus class, I had four classes on Friday. And it was unusual in that I had four unique lessons to teach. Usually, I repeat lessons throughout the week, so it's easy to get into a groove. But with four unique lessons including one surprise class, I was definitely pushed to my limit. 

It's the weekend. What will happen next week? Stay tuned.

The Art Base Cafe

I was referred to a new cafe by a Korean friend. It recently opened and proprietors were eager to meet people and have guests at their cafe. It doubles as an art studio, bookstore, place of community, and cafe.

I intentionally avoided the larger opening party, hoping to miss a largish crowd, so I decided to pay a visit a few days later on a Sunday morning just after they opened for the day at 11am. My friend had pulled up the location on the map in my phone, so I knew where to look. Actually, I walked all around the neighbour trying to find this cafe and was getting frustrated because the map showed I was at the right spot, but there was no sign of a cafe. That is until I looked up. There it was on the second floor above a pizzeria. No signage on the street level.

Like many shops in Korea these days, as soon as you step in, there is a temperature scanner and a sign-in sheet. While I was fiddling with my phone and registering my presence on the sign in sheet, the staff noticed me. He dropped what he was doing and rushed over to me. We had few awkward words in Korean where I explained that I didn't speak Korea, then he thankfully switched to passable English. There was only one other person in the shop at that time, and it was a middle school girl who likes to hang out in the cafe. She also came to greet me and was literally jumping up and down with excitement. I suppose they don't get a lot of customers, let alone foreigners, and I felt somewhat like a celebrity at that moment.

I explained that my friend had referred me to the cafe so I thought I'd stop by for a visit. They already knew of me from my friend. They knew that I was a teacher at a particular local school, and they were expecting me at their open house party. Word gets around when you're different.

I had a list prepared with some books that I hoped they could order for me, and then I wandered around the cafe look at the books (all in Korean) and the artwork (interesting but Greek to me). It was then that the second staff member came into the shop and immediately introduced himself. They said they'd search for the books online and contact me, and they explained a few of the art displays and their ideas for the cafe/bookstore/art studio/community place.

 

They asked if I wanted a coffee and while they prepared it, I sat on one of the couches near the middle school girl. She was pleased as punch to speak with me, although it was difficult to communicate. She was using her online dictionary to find the right English words. I'm glad she made the effort because I wasn't using my dictionary to understand her Korean.

The staff soon joined us for coffee on the couches and we talked for about an hour. I asked if the middle school girl enjoyed English class. She proceeded to pull out from her pocket a crumpled and ripped piece of paper. She unfolded her report card and showed me her final English grade - 36/100. She then laughed hysterically. Well maybe she's not much for studying English, but she was wonderful to chat with (through the interpretation of the online dictionary).

On my way out, I bought some postcards designed by a local artist. They wouldn't let me pay for the cafe latte and they invited me to come back again.

My Open Class

Once per term, teachers give an "open class" that other people may view and review. The principal, vice-principal, teachers, or even parents may attend the lesson. The open class is a major factor in determining if a teacher will be hired back next year, or for permanent teachers, it can influence their ratings and career progression. All in all, a stressful event.

My previous three open classes were quite unusual because of the pandemic. While technically "open", my classes were online and pre-recorded. So, if people viewed my lesson, it wasn't in real-time or in-person. It had no effect on me either way. Also, I had some leeway when I did my open class and what I taught. I typically made a "free topic" lesson on a fun subject that was not part of the textbook.

This time was different because all classes are now in-person, so I would be doing my first "live" open class. The schedule in November is packed with exams, speaking tests, and field trips, so I didn't have any choice of the date of my open class or the lesson I was to teach. Needing to stay on schedule, I had no choice but to teach a lesson from the textbook. And textbooks lessons are definitely boring compared to free topics, and of course, students don't react as well to boring textbook material.

My Korean co-teacher was stressing out about her open class and by extension, was expecting me to be stressed about mine. I explained to her that I was not worried and that I would not do anything different from what I normally do in class. And, most importantly, I felt that the open classes were meaningless, especially for me at this point, because I am leaving the school in a matter of months. There is nothing that could possibly happen in the open class that could affect me in any real way.

I gave an impromptu mini English lesson to my Korean co-teacher on the meaning of "low-stakes" and "high-stakes." I explained that the open class for me was a low-stakes event. But for her, it was high-stakes because she needed to do well in order to be hired back at the school. She has run afoul of school leadership for reporting late for work too often this year. I'm sure she believes she needs a positive open class to make up for it.

But the open classes really are been meaningless for me. Not once have I received any positive or negative feedback from any of my previous open classes. No one said anything to me. And, as I said, I don't know if anyone event observed the lessons.  So, getting feedback now at the end of the school year, after I've been teaching at the school for so long would just be.... too late.

So the day of my open class arrives and I'm surprised that I'm actually a little nervous. I think it's because the lesson will be recorded. I was asked to set up my phone at the back of the class and record the full lesson. No doubt the video will be low quality, but it's just one more thing to worry about. Also, I'm teaching with my least favourite Korean co-teacher who constantly interrupts me for stupid reasons and exerts control in the class whenever she can, even though she didn't help plan the lesson. Funny enough, I think she at least subconsciously knew that what she usually does is wrong because when the camera was recording this time, she barely interrupted me at all. It was "my class", for once.

So, the open class was going well and as expected no one except the students and co-teacher came to the lesson. That is, until the last 7 minutes or so of the class when one of the department heads, a teacher who teaches a subject other than English, came into the back of the class. She fiddled with the door for a while, making a distraction until my co-teacher let her in. She stood at the back of the class, walking in front of the recording camera and observed me teach for 7 minutes. 

The students behaved well during the class and raised their hands more often than they normally do, so I was happy with class participation. They received a heads up beforehand that this was an open class. They grumbled, "why did you choose us?" I originally wanted my open lesson to be with a more lively class, but it wasn't possible because of the schedule.

I'm glad it's finished. Let's see if I receive any feedback on my teaching this time. I doubt it.

The Wifi was down

The wifi wasn't working at my apartment when I returned home from work and the gym around 6pm on Tuesday. The next morning I informed my Korean teacher at the school. She promised to call the apartment office to get it fixed. 

Another day went by and it still hadn't been fixed. Living in a foreign country, I really depend on the wifi to stay in touch with people, and simply to entertain myself and kill time when I'm at home. I even play rain sounds on YouTube when I go to bed to help me fall asleep. With the wifi still down, I was starting to feel the inconvenience. 

On Thursday evenings, I have a regularly recurring call with some friends from Japan. We practice speaking English and generally have a nice conversation. Since the wifi wasn't working, I asked the Korean teacher if I could come to the school at 8pm to have my video call there. She said it wouldn't be a problem and gave me the key to the English room. 

The building would be locked, but she would call ahead to the night security guard who would be expecting me and let me into the building.

I texted my co-teacher a few minutes before I left for the school and called her when I arrived at the locked school door. There was no answer and no sign of the night security guard. The school was very dark and quite creepy at night. I waited at the door for a while but decided to leave. I didn't want to be mistaken for a night thief.

With only a few minutes before the start of my call, I rushed to the nearest cafe, ordered a green tea latte and set up the wifi. I wanted to avoid the cafe because it plays fairly loud music and there are often many customers, which would make it difficult to hear and speak on the video call. Also, I would have to wear a facemask if I were near other people. I managed to get everything set up in time for the call, although I was frazzled and distracted. The call was fine, just a little too much background noise in the cafe.

The Korean teacher apologized the next day for failing to take my call and arrange for my use of the school after hours. Yet, I was pretty frustrated that there were no indications that the wifi would be fixed anytime soon. 

As I've learned here, if I want to move things along I have to make some kind of absurd threat. I told my Korean teacher that I couldn't stay in the apartment until the wifi was restored, so I would be staying in a hotel. That really shocked her frugal mindset. I turned the knife once more and said that I want the apartment staff to pay for my hotel stay. She tried to explain that it was unlikely to happen as these things just aren't done. I insisted.

Within two hours my wifi was fixed at my home and I didn't need to find a hotel. Later in the day, the teacher said she couldn't believe how serious I was about the inconvenience.

It always seems to work that way. When I needed medicated skin cream and had been asking for weeks, I was finally taken to the doctor after I said I'd go to Canada to see a doctor. When my boys' classes were becoming truly unruly and the Korean co-teachers weren't attending class, that situation wasn't resolved until I said that I changed my mind and I wouldn't renew my contract. 

Always, I try to be reasonable at first. Inevitably, when that doesn't work, I have to raise the stakes.

Catholic Gardening

Last Friday the teachers at my main school were scheduled for a fun little excursion in the afternoon when the students had left for the day. Professional development and field trips are back on the agenda now that COVID-19 is apparently an afterthought, even though cases are as high as ever in Korea. Thankfully, Busan remains relatively free of the virus. We maintain our usual precautions such as wearing facemasks but proceed with the "living with Covid" phase that Korea has now transitioned to.

Our field trip was a short 15-minute drive from the school at the Catholic Education Centre in Busan, named "Aloysius" after a founding priest, as far as I could tell from the old photos and information at the site. The Sisters of Mary operate a daycare and other child education facilities as well as public gardens and a small cafe. There were other rooms at the center for hosting events such as musical concerts and other functions. All in all, it was an impressive facility perched high up on one of Busan's many steep hills, which we had to climb by foot from the parking lot below.

The teachers were divided into two groups, those who signed up for the "pizza-making" session and those who chose the "gardening" session. Can you guess which of the two I chose? Well, that doesn't matter because I wasn't given a choice at all. My co-teacher signed me up for the gardening class.

When we first arrived, we were given a very brief tour of the indoor greenhouse and then we were guided past the pizza-making group who were standing around a large brick oven. We enjoyed a view from the outdoor gardens that are used by local families and groups for growing vegetables. Then we landed in a workshop where we were to assemble a small potted plant which we got to take home. The pizza-making group's departing gift was a personal pizza for each person.

Our potted plant assembly lesson was taught by a man and an old but bubbly nun who were very excited about plants. I couldn't understand the presentation or instructions, but the nun took an interest in me and did her best to explain everything in her broken English.

The process was fairly simple. Fill our pot with dirt, choose a couple of plants, arrange them stylistically, decorate the surrounding dirt with little trinkets and volcanic rocks from Jeju island, and use the glue gun to stick some cutesy character ornaments on the rocks. We then covered the remaining dirt with pleasing white stones. We inserted a small wooden sign in the dirt to mark the date of our botanical creation. I received a small plastic bag to carry the plant home, where I put it next to my TV. Who needs pizza anyway?

The teachers gathered in the coffee shop for a beverage that we had pre-ordered at the school. My co-teacher and I both had iced coffee. Trying to be nice, I got up from the table and grabbed two straws from the counter, and brought them back for the teacher and I. Instead, my teacher didn't drink her coffee. She carried it out with her and returned the straw to the counter, which I'm still puzzled by. 

On the ride home, I learned that the nuns used to operate a middle school, high school, and dormitory at that site for orphans. However, due to financial limitations, they had to close the school. The orphans were sent throughout the city to regular public schools where they often were subjected to discrimination from the other children. I learned of this on the same day I heard that Elon Musk had made $36 billion dollars in a single day.

It was a fun day even though pretty much none of the teachers spoke to me. I got a kick out of the nun, especially when she insisted on tying my apron for the gardening class and then whispered, "Fit? Yes!"

Discplining Students

Maintaining classroom discipline in schools in Korea is very different than back home. There have been a couple of incidents that I think are illustrative of the disciplinary style here and will be of interest to readers in other countries.

At my boys' middle school, it's always a challenge to keep students on task and from disrupting the lesson. One day last week, I told the students in this first-grade class that they needed their textbooks, notebooks, and a pencil for the lesson. The Korean teacher repeated the instructions so all the students could understand.

One boy was stalling and wasting time at his cubby at the back of the classroom. The teacher admonished him because he was wasting time and we needed to start the lesson. There was some back and forth between the teacher and student, and I could tell by the tone the student was using that he was talking back and arguing with the teacher. He finally found his books and proceed to toss them across the room towards his desk. The books flopped onto the floor.

The teacher called him out to the hallway, effectively removing him from the classroom. I had never witnessed this before from the teacher. It is very rare for teachers here since they subscribe to the interpretation of law that students "cannot be denied their education", therefore removing them from the class is not normally permitted.

However, on this occasion, the disrespect had crossed a line and the teacher took the student to the faculty office. She asked me to proceed with the class, and I didn't see her until the class was about to end. The rude boy did not return to class at all. 

Later, the teacher asked me if I was surprised to see her so angry since she has never shown anger like that in class before. I told her to get even angrier in the future if she wanted. Sometimes the kids push things too far. But she's not likely to do that in the future. She said it "wouldn't be pretty."

The next day, the offending student is at the teacher's desk bright and early to receive his punishment. And this punishment was truly novel. He had to stand in the faculty office holding a sign, written in Korean, that he promises to respect teachers and the school rules and not misbehave any more. He stood there before classes, had to return for some of his breaks and part of the lunch hour. It combined embarrassment, which I'm not sure he felt, plus the pain of missing his free time at school. The teacher told me later that the parents had signed off on this punishment. Knowing this student, I highly doubt that this or any punishment will be effective, but it's nice to see some measure of discipline for poor behaviour.

Imagine my surprise when I return to the school one week later and the student is still standing with the sign in the faculty office! How long is this punishment? I think the other teachers took one look at that kid and thought, "yes, now that's a punishment!" because by the time lunch rolls around, there are three other kids standing there with their respective signs announcing to the school the wrongs that they've committed and how they'll follow the rules from now on. One student held a sign about how he will always wear his mask from now on.

All the teachers at my boys' middle school have trouble with class 3-1. They're a rowdy bunch, rarely play attention or participate, and only quiet down when they decide to take a nap at their desks. It was clear that the Korean teacher was tired of dealing with them, so she announced to me that she wasn't going to wake up the sleepers this week. She'd just let them sleep during my Halloween lesson. It was easier for everyone. Pick your battles.

Finally, at the same school, there was a fight amongst two boys in grade 1. I wasn't there to witness it, but I learned of it when I saw a student in my class with ugly looking, bloody scratches on his throat and a small cut on his face. Yet, strangely, he was in a good mood and participating in the class much more than usual. That is, he never participates but now he seemed to be having fun, if not goofing around in the class.

When class ended, I brought it to the attention of the Korean teacher. She inquired about the student's injuries and told me later about the fight. Apparently, it was resolved by the other teachers. Resolved, at least, in a way that had a scratched-up, bloody student in my class rather than sent home. 

I'll never understand how they do things here.

Making Soap

One day without warning, although I'm sure it had been planned months in advance, the teachers at my school had a professional development activity in the late afternoon after the students had left for the day. We gathered in the science room to make soap.

Earlier in the year, an outside instructor came to the school to teach us how to make natural shampoo. She returned last week for a session on soap making. It was much the same process as before. Several bottles of various ingredients were spread out on the tables with a digital scale. We were to follow the directions by adding a certain amount of each ingredient to our cup, stirring, and repeating until all the ingredients had been added, and the combination had formed soap.

There were several types of soap that we could choose from, but being that the session was fully in Korean, I didn't really understand what was going on nor was I that interested in making soap. I ended up with two kinds of soap, the first was a barely-based exfoliating soap. The second was an orange-coloured paprika soap made with tomatoes, lemons and other spices that apparently moisturize the skin. I chose that soap because the powder looked like the orange powder that you add to ramen. All I really understood of the instructor's presentation was "essential oils". 

 

 

Sitting at my table of teachers was a male gym teacher. Once he realized what this session was all about, he left just before the session started and did not return. Luckily, at my table sat the new Korean English teacher and some other younger teachers, so they were able to explain everything to me in English. I appreciate their efforts because I would have been lost without them.

The new Korean English teacher was oddly pushy. For example, we had to add ingredients into the cup on the scale in precise measurements. Say we required 1.0 gram of a certain substance. I would drop a little in the cup, and it read 0.2 grams on the scale. Then I would add a little more, and it read 0.6 grams. She then grabbed the ingredients away from me and finished adding the substance herself while I sat and watched. This was repeated for every substance. At one point, apparently, I wasn't stirring my soap mixture properly, so she took it away from me and did it herself.

 

 

When we were ultimately finished, she again took the lead by putting my soap containers in the provided plastic bag. I guess she assumed I couldn't handle such a task.

I haven't used the soap yet as it's just sitting on my counter, but I'll give it a try and see if the whole thing was worth it.

I complain about these sessions because they are awkward and, at times, seem pointless. But with the pandemic cancelling many of the cultural activities that I would have participated in, I am thankful that the school offers these opportunities for learning and connecting with my colleagues away from the pressures of the classroom.

Contract Renewal Decision

While I was sick last week, my co-teacher was regularly checking up on me through text messages. She also noted that I needed to make a decision on whether or not I wanted to renew my contract for another year at the school. I was quite sick, yet she messaged me twice about my contract renewal decision, so I figured it was urgent. I asked her when I needed to make my decision, and she said October 15th. Thankfully, I didn't need to decide on my future while I was sick in bed. I had another week to think about it.

What should normally happen with contract renewals is that I should first receive a performance review, ideally with constructive feedback and a meeting with the school principal who decides whether or not to offer another contract. As with last year, I was not given a performance review and did not meet with the principal. I have never received any formal feedback. I take it as a good sign that the contract renewal is a mere formality because if I wasn't teaching well, I wouldn't've been offered a renewal. Yet, I feel it is the employer's obligation to provided performance feedback. And I would like to improve as a teacher, so the lack of feedback is disappointing. At worst, it indicates that what I do at school doesn't really matter. I'm just filling the position of native teacher.

The decision to renew or not is difficult. I am good at this job, and after nearly two years, it has never been easier. I have a good relationship with the students. My lessons have a better flow and are more fun than when I first started. The workload is manageable, if not tiring. 

There are still many issues with co-teaching and the annoying things that my co-teachers do in the classroom. It was very frustrating at first to have teachers interfere with my lesson after making zero effort to help me plan the lesson or even instruct me on what they wanted in the lesson. Yet, I am used to all of that now and it doesn't bother me as much because I have adapted to the situation.

After my first year, I chose to stay in Korea for a second year mainly because the pandemic was still raging. It would have been very difficult to find another job, especially in Canada where there were many social distancing restrictions. Korea was relatively safe, but travel in the country and surrounding region was not possible. As a result, I spent my second year concentrating on my work and staying close to home, visiting the same cafes and restaurants, and doing very little sightseeing. In that way, it has been disappointing and I have not had the experience I envisioned when I first decided to come to Korea.

Still, I have decided that two years will be enough, for now. I will not renew my contract. I don't know what I'll do next or where I'll go, but I know for sure that I will not continue with this job.

I informed my co-teacher of my decision and it was very awkward because before I could finish my sentence, she got very happy and said "you're staying?!". I had to tell her, no, I decided not to renew. It was uncomfortable, but I'm happy the decision is official. I haven't told anyone else about deciding not to renew, but I'm sure the other teachers and students will find out in due course.

I think the reason I decided not to renew is largely influenced by the pandemic. I have not been able to travel home to see my family or visit other interesting places. If I had the chance to go home during the two years, perhaps I would stay here longer. Also, in terms of the job, two years is more than enough to get the full experience. Much of school life is now being repeated, including the lessons that I teach.

I plan to enjoy my remaining months in South Korea and slowly look for my next opportunity. COVID-19 numbers are slightly down in Korea with vaccination rates very high. With any luck, I'll be able to do something fun during my winter vacation, before my contract expires.

Sick as a Dog

What was supposed to be a short, four-day workweek turned into an even shorter week due to illness. I only worked Tuesday this week and was off sick on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Monday was a national holiday. This was my first time of ill health in Korea and it was a doozy. Wearing a mask for a year and a half protected me from getting sick, until this week.

I was doing one on one speaking tests with students at my boys' school on Tuesday when the first signs of a cold appeared. I was developing a cough and sore throat. By the time I got home afterward, I knew that I was definitely catching a cold and by 8pm, I contacted my co-teacher at my main school to let her know that I wouldn't be able to come to school the next day. It wasn't a problem because I didn't have any classes that day as students were writing their mid-term exams.

I was completely laid up in bed on Wednesday with a severe cold after having spent a sleepless night coughing and sneezing. My co-teacher regularly checked in throughout the day asking for updates on my condition and body temperature. I sent her photos of my temperature displayed on my digital thermometer and slept as much as I could in-between her incessant texting.

 At first, she asked if I wanted a COVID-19 test but I declined because I was sure it wasn't COVID. The next morning, I was still sick and asked again to stay home. Around that time, my right ear became blocked and I worried that I had an ear infection. I had a fever and was now practically deaf in one ear. 

My co-teacher consulted with the school nurse, who informed me that if I was still exhibiting cold symptoms, I wouldn't be allowed to come to school the next day unless I got a covid test. So, Thursday afternoon, I travelled by myself on the subway to the COVID-19 testing facility. I had been there once before but was driven by another teacher. 

I arrived at the testing facility without incident, although I was completely exhausted and would rather have just stayed in bed. The staff helped me complete the required paperwork as I couldn't understand Korean, then they directed me to the nurse who shoved a long prod up my nose, and then another one in the back of my throat which made me gag. She had to try twice in my throat because I was resisting too much. Still, I was in and out of the clinic within 15 minutes.

The results of the test would come the next morning. As such, I was to stay home until it was official that I didn't have COVID-19. If I still felt sick, I could spend the entire day at home. 

I was still fairly sick when I got the text at 9am which indicated that I did not have COVID-19. I had already missed my first-period class but decided to go to school anyway. I was sick but at the very least I needed to collect some files to prepare for my upcoming lessons. I showed the school nurse my COVID-19 test results and went to my desk. When the teachers saw me, it was clear that I was still too sick to teach. Several teachers gathered around me, to have a meeting about me that I didn't understand. Apparently, they were working out who of them was to take me to see a doctor.

My co-teacher made me fill out the log sheet and get the vice-principal's signature to validate my sick time, then we left to see an ear specialist. It was only a 10-minute walk from the school. At that hour of the morning, there were only two other people waiting to see the doctor, so we were in and out very quickly. The doctor sat me down and proceeded to examine my throat, nose, and ears. He inserted a long spike into my ear that was actually a camera. I saw the inside of both of my ears up on the screen. Much less wax than I was expecting.

The doctor spoke mostly in Korean but mixed in some very technical medical English that I couldn't understand or hear because of my ear. But my co-teacher interpreted that I had an ear infection. Apparently, I was born with "a weak ear system." And I should "not blow my nose into tissue so violently." Fluid had leaked into my middle or inner ear, and it was infected.

The doctor prescribed 7-days' worth of antibiotics, cold medicine and pain killers. The doctor's visit cost about $5 dollars which I paid upon leaving, and the medication cost $10 dollars. My co-teacher explained that the medicine was more expensive than usual because typically doctors only prescribe 3- days' worth of pills, but I needed medicine for a full week. I was to take a packet of five pills with meals three times per day for the next seven days.

Once we left the pharmacy, I was free to go home and rest. My co-teacher had not anticipated how quickly the doctor would see me, so she was quite obviously stalling on her way back to school. She usually walks at a very fast pace but was now dragging her feet. It was clear she didn't want to go back to school right away. We took a little detour, she asked me some English grammar questions, and finally arrived in front of my apartment building where she positioned herself so no one at the school could look out the window and see us. She proceeded to chat for a few more minutes before she departed and I went inside my apartment to lay down.

As I write this, it is only two days since my visit to the doctor, I still cannot hear from my ear, but I think my cold symptoms are almost gone. I'm still very tired. Thankfully, it is another 3-day weekend, so I have plenty of time to rest up before I return to school.

Policy of Living with COVID-19

Attitudes and policies have certainly evolved in the year and a half that I've been living in Korea. Back in the summer of 2020 with only 600 or so COVID-19 cases per day, classes were switched to an online format and my English summer camps suddenly changed to online at the last minute.

Earlier this spring, even with cases over 1000 per day, schools had shifted to having 2/3 of students at school while the other 1/3 would have online classes at home.

After the Chuseok holiday this September, cases spiked to an all-time high of 3200 per day, and currently, we are settled in with a consistent daily count of over 2000. Yet, even though cases are much higher than in previous months, South Korea has adopted a policy of "living with COVID-19" and a return to normal life will be implemented.

For my schools, this means that all classes are to be held in person at the school unless the severity level is raised to the highest level. Previously, online classes were required even for lower levels of COVID-19 in the community. Busan has relatively few cases so it is unlikely that we'll have online classes for any stretch of time for the remainder of the year unless there is a large outbreak in the city.

But that is policy, and conditions can change rapidly, as they did on Wednesday, just three days into the "Living with COVID-19" policy at my school. Apparently, a parent of a first-grader had tested positive for COVID-19. Just a few minutes before classes were to start for the day, the entire freshmen class was ushered out of the school and sent home. I wasn't sure what was happening at first because of the chaos in the faculty office, but eventually, this situation was explained to me. 

I don't teach first grade at that school, so none of my classes were cancelled and I had a fairly normal day. The freshmen class studied online for two days before they were permitted to come back to school. None of the students tested positive, thankfully.

Moving forward, we can expect all students to report to school each day. The lunch hour at my main school has been extended to 70 minutes so the students can eat in phases. This will hopefully avoid crowding in the cafeteria and minimize contact with students while they are eating with their masks off.

Living with COVID-19 is off to a rocky start. We can only hope that Busan remains relatively covid-free and everyone stays safe.

Chuseok

Chuseok is the Korean thanksgiving holiday and it provides a nice little break in the middle of September. I got three weekdays off. So with the weekend, it was five days free from work.

COVID-19 cases were elevated at the start of Chuseok but the government loosened social distancing restrictions during this holiday time to allow for more family gatherings and to relieve some of the financial pressure on businesses.

With about 80% of the COVID-19 cases centred in the Seoul area, residents of other parts of Korea requested that those from Seoul not travel for fear of spreading the virus around the country.

As for me, once again I decided to stay close to home and forgo any travel. Just about every day of the holiday, I walked to Dadaepo beach, enjoyed a latte in a cafe, and relished my free time. I prepared a few of my lessons for the coming weeks to get ahead of the work. After Chuseok, most of my classes will be in-person so I won't have as much time for lesson planning during the workday.

While visiting the beach, I spotted a heron in an adjacent wetland and spent a few minutes observing him pluck fish from the water. 

We had a few severe rainstorms during the holiday and got caught in a windstorm on my way home. My umbrella was blown inside-out.

The holiday flew by and before I knew it, I was back at work finishing off the week. I had only 3 classes on Thursday and Friday, so my return to work wasn't too painful.

Predictably, there was a spike in COVID-19 cases due to the movement around the country during Chuseok. We actually saw a record high for the daily COVID-19 count on Friday. Then, the new record was shattered the next day on Saturday with over 3000 cases for the first time in the pandemic. The previous record was 2200 in one day. 

Pfizer Vaccine #2

The day had finally arrived for my second covid-19 vaccination. Originally scheduled for three weeks after the initial shot, a two-week delay pushed my vaccination to September 11th. Once again, I received the Pfizer version.

I had plans to meet my Korean co-teacher and we would walk together to the clinic. The meeting time was 9:50am. At around that time, I get a text saying she'll be there at 9:55am. She had slept through her alarm. Our appointment is at 10am. Again, shortly after that, she sent another text saying that she forgot her identification card and that she was running home to get it. I was to meet her at the clinic instead, even though I wasn't exactly sure where it was located. I ended up walking past the building but found it after some backtracking.

At 10:15am, we were signed in, temperature checked, and seated in the waiting room, which was much more crowded than during our previous visit. My worries of having missed my chance at a vaccine because of my Korean coworker's tardiness were unwarranted.

I was helped to fill out the required forms, and our identifications cards were not requested. Eventually, we were called into the doctor's office for a brief interview before the vaccination. The doctor remembered me from last time. Although I didn't understand much of the interview, I believe the doctor asked about allergies, reactions to the previous injection, and other such questions.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the injection room. A nurse was shouting, calling for the doctor. Nurses and the doctor rushed into the room. I saw a woman go down and then laid flat on a bed. They applied an oxygen mask and raised her legs. The nosy people in the waiting room gathered around until the nurses pushed them back. A young woman in her 20s had apparently fainted.

The mood instantly changed in the waiting room. People were concerned, and quiet. My Korean co-worker, who was already nervous about the vaccine, had a look of extreme consternation. If she could've bolted, I'm sure she would have dashed for the door and not looked back.

When calm had been restored, we were called into the injection room. The woman who had fainted was still there, lying on the bed, her eyes closed. I received my injection without incident. We were required to wait in the room for 10 minutes before leaving. It was awkward sitting so close to this semi-conscious woman laying on the bed. There were several others in the room waiting for their 10 minutes to expire.

I was observing another woman who had received her injection just before me. Her back was turned, but she started to sway back and forth on her stool. Just as I expected her to faint, the nurse came by and spoke with the woman. She said she was having trouble breathing and then she went down. After reviving her, the nurse and doctors helped her to the bed. All this happened right in front of me. There were now two women, who were injected within moments of my shot, laying on beds recovering from their fainting spells. This certainly doesn't help with vaccine confidence, but I had seen plenty of people become faint after donating blood in Canada, so this was nothing new for me.

We left the clinic and my Korean co-teacher insisted that I buy some Tylenol in case I experienced any symptoms after the injection, even though I initially refused. The Tylenol cost 2500 won but I didn't use it. I was completely fine. I even felt better than after the first vaccine.

My Korean co-teacher on the other hand told me that she was feverish for three days after receiving the vaccine and her arm was in great pain and she struggled to move it. I had heard that other people had difficult symptoms, especially after the second vaccine, but I was lucky, I guess.

After about 2 more weeks, the vaccine should take full effect and I will be as protected as possible from COVID-19. It's a great relief because I have waited a very long time for these vaccinations. COVID-19 cases in Korea are up, but the city of Busan remains relatively unaffected with only 49 confirmed cases today.

This week in Korea

Monday:

Two seconds after I arrived at the boys' school in the morning, a cellphone is placed in my hands. It's a call from the first-grade teacher with whom I have five classes today. She took the covid-19 vaccine and her entire body is in pain. She won't be able to come to school today, and is it alright if I teach the classes alone? Five classes of middle school boys? Alone? Sure, why not? But I wouldn't be alone because this school, unlike my school last year, takes seriously the policy that foreign teachers must have a Korean co-teacher in the classroom. So, throughout the day, various English teachers and one non-English teacher give up their free period to join my class on Jack and the Beanstalk for the first graders. Having the Korean teacher in the classroom helps keep the students' behaviour in check, so while exhausted, I didn't have too much trouble teaching today. Several boys refused to read during the assigned reading time, but that is nothing new.

Tuesday:

I had received a month-long schedule from the boys' school indicating which classes were to be online and which were to be in-person. I was fully expecting my third-grade classes today to be online. When I was leaving school yesterday, I chatted with a student who casually said that he would see me tomorrow. I thought our class would be online tomorrow. 'No', he said, 'all students were to come to school from now on.' So, none of my teacher colleagues had bothered to tell me about the change. If I hadn't heard about it from the student, I would've shown up with an online lesson. Online classes and in-person classes are very different. For one, I need to have more material and more activities for in-person classes. If I hadn't spent my evening revising my lesson, I would've been short during my classes. It goes without saying that it is completely unacceptable not to tell me about this change in advance, but this is Korea, and this is how it goes.

The staff washroom is next to the faculty office. The men's room has two stalls and six urinals. When exiting the washroom, one must open the door, then visit the common sinks/mirrors in the hallway that are shared with the women's washroom. Just after the first period, as I was opening the door to the men's room, a student came out. He was carrying two hefty, overflowing handfuls of used toilet paper. He walked past me and deposited his waste in the garbage bin in the hallway beside the sinks. He did this, but not before he accidentally dropped some soiled toilet paper on the floor. He walked away without noticing the shitty wad of toilet paper he left in the hallway. I don't know what the hell was going on with that student. We can flush toilet paper down the toilet here. I was disgusted and taken aback, but at least he washed his hands in the sink, which is more than I can say for some of the teachers at the school.

Wednesday:

Today, I taught in-person classes at my main school for the first time since mid-July. I had a first-period class with grade three students. They were tired, sleepy, and sluggish. I was in front of the class, not getting a reaction. Students stared at me in silence. I felt my body get hot and sweaty. When there is no cooperation from the students, things are very awkward in the classroom. When I asked students directly to answer a question, they knew the answer, for the most part. But they chose to avoid participating unless I pressed them. Second-period was slightly better as the students started to wake up from their sleep-deprived stupor.

Well, maybe it wasn't a time-of-day thing. My sixth-period class of second-graders was not engaged in the lesson at all, either. The Korean co-teacher interrupted my lesson to chew out the class and try to get them to participate. I poured my energy into the class, and without getting anything in return, I am left depleted and sore. My day is finished.

Thursday:

Thursday was pretty uneventful, thankfully. I did have four classes spread evenly throughout the day, so I didn't get much work done for next week's lessons. Teaching is so exhausting that I just like to relax after a class, but unless I have a few free periods, I don't get much work done. Friday is usually a shorter day, so I should be able to finish up my lesson prep before the weekend. 

Thursday evening, I had a Zoom online call with friends from Japan. There were four of us on the call this week. We usually chat every Thursday and it's a nice opportunity to catch up, and for the Japanese folks to speak English. It works out well because we are in the same time zone, they in Japan and I in Korea.

Friday:

I taught three classes today. Again, the first-period class was challenging because the students were barely awake. The Korean co-teacher stopped the class to give a pep talk. The students weren't responding to my simple yes-no questions, like "Are you ready?" After the talk, they pepped up a little, but it was still awkward. My other classes were pretty good. My third-grade class on Friday has one student, a smallish boy who is very fluent in English and his good attitude is infectious. He actively participates and encourages the others to try as well. It's amazing the effect one student can have on the class. 

One of the teachers had a death in the family. When this happens to someone, they often provide a small edible gift for the teachers as thanks for the support they've received. I received this box of traditional Korean desserts on Friday, which were delicious and filling like a meal. 

"Usually it is illegal to go out during working hours"

This week, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, I am working at my main school. It's an unusual week because all of the students are studying online for these three days. Since May 2020, at least one of the three grades has come to school for in-person lessons, but not this week.

Many of the teachers at this school have their second COVID-19 vaccination appointment scheduled for Wednesday afternoon. Originally the second vaccination was set for two weeks prior but was delayed due to supply issues. It was decided that since teachers are being vaccinated on Wednesday and there are potential side effects from the vaccine, all lessons will be held online. Also, all teachers (except for me) can work from home this week.

About 5% of the faculty came to school on Wednesday. Naturally, without students and teachers, lunch was not served in the cafeteria. When this happened before, either because of holidays, inclement weather, or COVID-19 issues, staff were free to do what they like for lunch. Some teachers pack a lunch, while others go out to one of the nearby restaurants. I would typically go home and make my lunch there. It's only one minute away.

I received a text message from my co-teacher at 7:20am this morning explaining that lunch will not be provided for these three days and I should bring a lunch from home. She would bring milk, bread, eggs, and apples. She wrote, "usually it is illegal to go out during working hours." 

Of course, this was very surprising to me because I didn't know all those times I went home for lunch, and the faculty who had gone out for lunch, were doing something illegal. Not to mention that 7:20am before school was an unreasonable notice for something like this. I bought an egg sandwich and cookie at the convenience store on the way to work.

Come lunchtime, and just as my co-teacher was asking me what I brought for lunch, another teacher approached and asked if we wanted to go out for lunch together. I also saw several teachers grab their umbrellas and leave the faculty room. On a rainy day, it doesn't take a detective to conclude that they were going out for lunch. I guess going out for lunch was not so illegal after all.

While in a bad mood, I ate my cold sandwich alone at my desk, and then later walked throughout the school just to verify that teachers weren't eating together in the cafeteria or library. Some teachers had stayed at school while most others had gone out.

It was then I decided that I'm going home for lunch tomorrow, "illegal" or not.

I'm sure it was some kind of misunderstanding or more likely the natural neuroticism of my co-teacher, but I will not be stuck at the school while other teachers are allowed to go out to eat. Not going to happen. This is a hill I will die on.

After losing a night's sleep being angry and anticipating a confrontation the next day, I went to school and worked all morning. I did not pack a lunch.

I worked at my desk throughout the morning, waiting until lunch to assert by right to leave the school with the other teachers for lunch (when lunch is not served at school). About 30 minutes before lunch, my co-teacher left her desk beside me to work in the English room. As lunch approached, I supposed that I would have to have the confrontation after lunch if my co-teacher wasn't around when I left to eat.

Two minutes before lunch, I received a message from my co-teacher saying that she was in the English room. I was welcomed to eat with her there or I could eat at my desk. This is where I made my stand. In my return message I thanked her and said I was going home for lunch. 

Only a day ago, she wrote to me that going home was "illegal" and I had to stay at school during work hours. Yet, there was no confrontation. She merely said, "have a good lunch and be back by 1:20pm (when the lunch period ends)."

I suppose she realized that she was incorrect about the "illegality" of leaving school when many teachers left school grounds the day before. End of story, problem solved, victory for me.

I went to a restaurant beside my home for takeout. The restaurant was full, so I stood outside and waited for my food. In the fifteen minutes that I was waiting, I counted 12 teachers and staff leave the school for lunch. How in the world did she get the idea in her head that we weren't allowed to leave the school for lunch? 

She had previously given me other weird and wrong advice throughout the year, such as the bogus requirement to avoid showering after a vaccine, wrongly saying I couldn't join a gym, etc. I'm not sure, but I think she is so hyper-afraid of getting into trouble that she interprets anything and everything as a potential violation and tries to stay on the safe side of school policy. Naturally, she tries to prevent me from this imagined trouble, even if it is totally unnecessary and inconvenient for me. Never have I regretted disobeying or disregarding her wacky directives.