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.