Pain for Gain double take:

I have one of the highest pain thresholds of anyone I know. My earliest memory of pain: hand slashes broken glass. Shock ridden, I didn't start crying until several seconds after the fact. By then, the blood had begun trickling down the length of my arm. I had felt the pull of my skin when the glass tore through it, but I cried out because it was the first time I had seen my blood, so red, pour out of me. I was going to die. I ran like hell for my parents. 

Looking back, the pain was there, but I was forward-thinking, past the cut, at the blood pulsing out of my wound and splotching onto the concrete in perfect little circles. I was focused on watching what it meant, if the blood didn't stop. I never acknowledge pain face-to-face. That's how I got through two major reconstructive foot surgeries, twice re-learning how to walk, and the worst timing in the planet for appendicitis -- I flash forward to when it won't hurt anymore with ever so cool a head and, hey, might as well squeeze in a nap while I lie here and get a root canal. 

I've never broken a bone, gotten punched in the face, or been physically abused in any way. I've never had to know pain to be anything but an inevitable part of life. I am thankful for that. Whether it's been running into table corners, sore muscles from exercise, or my body doing its healing thing, my pain threshold has let me categorize pain into something greater than the pain itself. 

Nom is food

Today's lunch was amazinggggg. In order of appearance:

1. Yes yogurt drink

2. Let's do this hard boiled eggs

3. Get excited 만두 mandu (dumplings)

4. Kill me sweet potatoes rolled in 김 kim (seaweed), deep fried 

5. Talk to me 떡볶이 ddeokbokki that included little sausages and 오뎅 odeng (Korean "fish hot dogs")

6. The lovely 오뎅 odeng soup (오뎅국?) 

7. Starch me 밥 bap (rice) of course

The regular Korean teachers had a lunch meeting so I happily ate with the kids and the daycare teachers. I sat next to 진세훈, easily one of my favorite students -- I love hanging out with him. The atmosphere felt loose, the students taking more time than usual to eat. Watching little hands crack and peel hard boiled eggs is possibly the cutest egg-scenario out there.  

We teachers sipped on some after-lunch Japanese coffee, brewed in a big metal soup bowl and ladled out into the small paper coffee cups. They joked, we laughed, and I left the lunchroom with a plastic bag full off leftover hard boiled eggs, mandu, and fried kim rolls. Hello breakfast and dinner for the next few days :D 

"Do you feel the cold?"

NPR's "Pop Culture Happy Hour" podcast first perked my ears up to seeing Disney's animated film Frozen. By the time my sister posted the YouTube video of  "Let It Go" on my facebook timeline, I knew it was my destiny to see it. Desk-warming* in the middle of winter vacation in a foreign country, I quite literally related to the lyrics of the song. Kingdom of isolation, freezing cold, but I like the cold -- come on.

*Desk-warming: No classes and no students but required to come to school to "work" for eight hours a day, forty hours a week. It gets lonely and cold in the winter (the school turns off the heat).

So I was right there with my students when their excitement turned obsession turned adoration for the film - for the song "Let It Go" in particular - became part of every day conversation. I lost count of how many screen shots of Anna, Elsa, and Olaf I saw, how many renditions of "Let It Go" I heard in the hallways, and how many times the fifth grade boys imitated Elsa slamming her foot down, because I was lost in the fandom, too. I was just as ecstatic as my students when Moonee put the movie in for the last day of class. I still haven't seen the last half of the movie, but I have seen what it has done to Korea.

It's amazing to me what an impact it has had here. One of my favorite stories from the native English teacher group of "Frozen stories" is one that involves "Do you want to build a snowman?" being written in huge letters spanning across the board of the teacher's room. And "It doesn't have to be a snowman," written beneath it. It's a strange phenomenon, one I've talked plenty about with other teachers. The language is easy to say and the meaning straight forward. The conversation never quite hits the right note for me, however, and I've felt too much that my thoughts about it would be lost.

My thoughts: this song, "Let It Go," has done exactly what ideally my school wants me to do with the English language. It has made English fun. Sure, "let it go" might not be the most useful English phrase, but the students all know it and know what it means. They're expressing a feeling and a hope when they sing those words. They're imagining something when they hear, listen to, and sing along with the music. They are experiencing and relating to another language, a huge accomplishment they've done completely on their own.

That's why Korea hires native-speaking English teachers. Language is about communication but it is also about expression. There are intricacies in every language that captures the human spirit in ever so slightly a different way. Personally, I have my doubts about whether my presence or teaching can come close to touching that, but I do believe that, in its shiny Disney package, Frozen has brought a small part of that joy to Korea. 

That's why I haven't gotten "sick of" or "annoyed at" hearing the songs from Frozen. The premise is simply too delightful to me. Film is a powerful thing and people too often forget the role it can play. It's sometimes as simple as making pancakes for breakfast after watching America's favorite serial killer make them for his kids. Other times it causes people on opposite ends of the world to sing the same song, it seems, in perfect unison. 

"Do you feel the cold?" Moonee asked me one day. My boasting about Wisconsin winters seems to have given the Doam teachers an impression about me. I realize in talking with my parents that maybe that's not such a far-fetched question after all, because "cold" is relative. The fascination with Frozen in Korea is relative to what the filmmakers and animators perhaps wanted for this movie. It is relative to American and global reception. And isn't that the beauty. "Yes, I feel the cold," I told her.
  

--

I was cleaning up my classroom after a day of winter camp, jamming out to some Miley Cyrus Internet radio, when I heard the English door open. In comes a woman and her little daughter. The little girl was maybe two years old and she walks right up to me and asks,"How are you?" I was shocked. The mother clearly didn't know any English, but I knelt down and said, "I'm good, how are you?" She laughed, grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go together!" She starts walking towards the door, tugging me along. I say, "Oh I have to clean up." She looks at me and starts bounding around the classroom repeating, "Let's go together! Let's go together!" 

Soon they said goodbye and left. I felt flabbergasted; what exactly happened here? I was touched by the random visit in a way that made me laugh. She spoke English to me. She knew not only what she was saying but how to say it. She understood the etiquette. I sort of let my thoughts about how she learned it float up into the air, because it's obvious she wasn't hitting English language books, studying for hours on end. She was only maybe two years old. 

Morning Walking

I'm increasingly aware of the language barrier at school mostly because I now have things I want to say and ask beyond basic courtesies. I want to be able to talk to the teachers and staff I've been working with for the past five months or so. They seem like really interesting people and the broken conversations in English only get a person so far. 

One thing I'll take from this whole experience is the beauty of speaking the same language; the worry of knowing what to say versus the ability to say words the other person can actually understand -- Before all this, I internalized a lot of things. I still will, but I've realized being in a foreign country, surrounded by people who mostly don't speak English, that I like casual conversation. Today, Sin Hyeon Gyeong, my second co-teacher, came into school to use the computer. It took all but five minutes for me to tell her about the rash I have on my forearms. 

Another aspect of the language barrier that completely frustrates me is the lack of finesse. Today, I was very close to tears over my schedule for next semester, partly due to how the news was broken to me.

I was working in my classroom when the phone rang. I don't have a co-teacher right now, so I knew it must be for me. I pick up, I hear my name, and a bunch of Korean. I made the assumption that I should go down to the teacher's room. I slide the door open, and yep. The entire teaching staff, Principal, and Vice Principal are there: staff meeting. I am gestured to sit down and am handed paperwork, all in Korean. Looking at it and sounding out some of the words, I could see that it was the grade assignments and classroom layouts for the upcoming year. 

The meeting lasted about thirty minutes. I waited until everyone got up from their seats before I stood up. I stalled at the water cooler before I started to head back up to my classroom when the Head Teacher stopped me. Okay, I sort of expected this -- I don't usually get invited to staff meetings. 

The sixth grade teacher then quickly comes up to me and asks if I know my schedule for next year. I didn't and was glad to finally have some clue about the upcoming year. But then she said, "You will teach at Do-ji School." Wait, what? It took a few minutes to understand because I'm not used to hearing the sixth grade teacher's English, but apparently I'll be teaching at a new school two days a week next semester. I felt upset and just aggravated. 

I know that I'm at the bottom of the hierarchy. I know that they don't need to converse with me about schedules or let me know about anything, but geez it would've been nice to have that information prefaced with the smallest something. New school means a whole new teaching staff, new set of kids, and an additional dose of Korean school expectations and schedule. I'm still not happy about it. And it means that I'm going to be missing two days of teaching at Doam a week. I like working at Doam Elementary, and I was actually feeling pretty good about the new school year. I have solid lesson plans for them and now I'm going to be missing two days a week.

Image from one of my morning walks to school

Incidentally, I know where Do-ji Elementary School is. Sin Hyeon Gyeong went to Do-ji when she was a kid and we drove past it once. It's even more rural than Doam and there's no way I'll be able to walk there. Walking to school in the morning is one of my favorite things. To trade that in for an inevitably stressful bus ride makes me even more disappointed. 

I knew about this aspect of teaching and living in Korea. Maybe I'm just not as flexible as I thought or maybe it's because everything is so far away that the small things have a bigger impact on me. Maybe it's because lesson plans take me forever and it feels like I'll be moving back to square one my first day at a new school. Maybe having Moonee or Sin Hyeon Gyeong tell me about Do-ji would've made it easier to swallow. Maybe not. 

It honestly feels like they're clipping my wings, just as I was figuring out how to fly. I think that is what's bothering me the most about this whole situation; it's making it difficult for me to really dig my heels into teaching. I want to do a good job, and for me that takes a bit more support than Korea can give. Working in Korea is so much about duty. Watching all the hoops Moonee had to jump through -- things are expected, not discussed. A certain amount of that comes with every job, but in Korea, that is the job. I'm not saying this way is "wrong" or "impossible." Though, it does yield a different sort of working environment based on obligation and making the best of a situation. 

I just don't want to have to go back to the "first day" setting. But I will because that is what the school wants me to do. I'm sure it'll all be fine. I'm better equipped than I was when I started at Doam. And I'll still be able to walk to school three days a week. Reset and go. 

Catnaps in Korea

"Asian ability to sleep anywhere."

When I read this on one of my favorite travel blogs, I laughed out loud. Yeah, it's a pretty accurate description. Since living in an Asian country, I wonder just how this stereotype has been overlooked. There's some comedy gold where this goes.

It's not simply people sleeping on the soft grass in the park. It's not people napping on the lounge furniture at the spa. And it's not people snoring on buses or subway. It's the people zonked out on the tile floor of a busy cafeteria at the jjimjibang. The people asleep on a concrete wall in the middle of downtown Seoul. Those are the people that make sleeping anywhere an ability, a skill.

"Abby always falls asleep the
second we step onto the RER or metro"

I don't mean to brag, buuuut I've always been pretty amazing at sleeping. My bus ride home takes roughly 20 minutes, the perfect amount of time to be intellectually productive (read or listen to an educational podcast). Alas, how the story usually goes, I sleep. The bus makes an apparent left turn immediately before my stop. I've never missed it. Skill.

When I was about eight or nine, I was at a concert with my dad. I forget the particular piece that he was sure would "wake me up," but he did assure me it would. In the middle of the upbeat "crashing cymbals" and "banging drums" I closed my eyes and never looked back.

Fighting Bob Fest 2009. Freezing cold, rock hard bleachers. Squeezed in between my mom and dad, I had one of the best corn dogs and one of the best sleeps of my life.

These catnaps make life worth living. What is life without good, deep naps I ask you? Lesson learned and appreciated, Korea. Your move again.

Last Day of School FOOD & NANTA

I admit, I anticipated food. Last day, I figured. No way there wouldn't be food. I planned accordingly (a dangerous habit in Korea) by eating a lighter breakfast. And by golly, I'm getting good at living in Korea, because I was greeted in the hallway by one of my favorite fifth graders handing out homemade chocolates. After the graduation ceremony, I was given the usual bag of rice cakes plus a prettily wrapped, fancy rice cake topped with soybeans and other tasty savories.

Bag-of-rice-cakes (뜩 ddeok) is the norm here. I've received countless and still struggle to finish the contents. I like ddeok fine, but they're like the elvish waybread in the "Lord of the Rings" to me -- and I'm sadly not a hobbit in this scenario. They are incredibly dense and filling; Koreans pop them down like saltine crackers.

For lunch, we teachers headed to a restaurant that serves the Korean ground mudfish soup (추아탕 chuatang). The fourth grade teacher raved about the soup on the ride to the restaurant, but he was aware that American taste buds might not appreciate the flavor. No need to worry, it was a fantastic lunch -- I didn't think it tasted all that fishy; it just tasted good.

My relationship with soup has grown into a full-blown love affair. Thank you, Korea. Served boiling hot in an earthenware bowl, I added garlic, green onions, and permilla seeds to my taste. Noodles and/or rice were also added and the slurping and sniffling noses soon followed. Utter perfection with two different varieties of kimchi, raw onions soaked in sauce, and pork cutlet available in between spoonfuls of soup, I was told I am very pretty at eating. Why thanks!

Teacher outing number three, next we headed in our coach bus to Seoul for the "Cookin Nanta" show in Myeongdong. The coach buses are well decorated and the drivers always very professional. Olympic speed skating and a small cat nap later, we arrived at Myeongdong, shopping dreamland. We had some time to kill before the show, so I hit the shopping streets with a group of teachers. I'm not at all shopping compatible with Koreans. They shop like they eat school lunch: quickly. I like to take my time and to feel the different fabrics and materials. No, no. But I did manage to buy two shirts, which all the teachers were excited to know.

I went to Nanta with Steph and Alex when they visited and it was fun. But going with the Doam teachers was an absolute hoot. We had great seats - second row from the stage, which meant that a lot of the teachers were pulled up onto stage during the performance - SO FUNNY. And they just ate up the humor, making Nanta round two really awesome. I think part of it was the English. Nanta is a nonverbal comedy percussion act, but when they do use "real" words, it's English. At one point in the show, the nephew carries in a take box of chicken - "take-out" written in big letters on the box. The teacher sitting next to me, who doesn't ever speak to me, sounded the words out, out loud. The language aspect of the show was something I didn't factor in the first time; it's like me being thrilled I can say, "만두 주세요." I'm planning on writing a full-review of the Nanta show coming soon.

Another bag of rice cakes and little oranges on the bus ride home: FOOD.

Happy White Chocolate Robot

Hooray, Doam Graduation Day!

Today, the sixth graders graduate from Doam Elementary School -- I'm real excited for them, and Moonee tells me that they're excited, too. It's been pretty clear that their time has come, size-wise. I grapple at how ginormous they look when they stand in the lunch line next to the first graders or even up to the fourth graders for that matter (and equally at how tiny-independent the youngest grades are). Whenever I peek into the sixth grade classrooms, I chuckle a little because they are too big for the Doam Elementary desks. They're growing up, and it's time for them to move on.

Of course, I'm extremely sad to see them leave. Two of the sixth grade girls came into the English classroom early this morning to say goodbye. They explained that this was their last day at Doam and that they were sad but happy. They each then gave me a hug, which surprised me and made me feel very sentimental. I loved my sixth grade classes -- coming up with lesson plans and games was a challenge but teaching them always included a lot of laughs. They'll do great in middle school. But I miss them already.

The graduation ceremony took place in the Doam lunchroom-auditorium. Both the sixth and fifth grade classes carried their desk chairs down from their classrooms ("The fifth graders are here for the singing," Moonee explained to me), forming rows in front of the stage. The school orchestra played their favorite songs (i.e. the songs I've been hearing them practice for the past four-and-a-half months) to my honest delight. They're really good at those songs now. Parents, grandparents, siblings, and other family members crowded in behind the student rows, hands full of flowers, candy, and cameras that were snapping away.

The ceremony was pretty standard, lasting about an hour. I sort of wish I could understand what was being said, but the grandmas dozing in the back cued me in that the dialogue wasn't too gripping. I enjoyed seeing all the families (family resemblance gets me every time), and I liked seeing how the sixth graders graduated. They were called up to the front in groups of eight or so. They faced the audience before they faced one of their family members to recite a passage and hand their family member this frame I had seen them putting together earlier this week. Then, they were called up one by one to receive their diploma from the President. 

I peeked over the shoulder of one of the moms to see what the frame held -- a glowing (photoshopped) picture of her son and a bunch of written Hangugo, the Korean language. Really nice, wall-worthy stuff. There was a slide show, loud singing (thanks 5th grade!), and then it was over. Congrats, sixth grade -- don't ever change your enthusiastic goof-ball ways <3

It was a good last day of school. Short and sweet, never get in the way of Koreans leaving an event. I'm impressed at how quickly the playground cleared of cars. I like that I was able to see everything today; it was indeed a special day, a happy day. I wish all the time I could have a more active role but being able to observe/be slightly creepy with the picture taking/think about it all is enough for now. I'm very grateful. And I do like the bowing. Respect and acknowledgement feels much more genuine with a gesture. 

Doam Elementary and the New School Year

The last day of second semester is this Friday, February 14th. Spring Break is from February 17th until February 28th. March 3rd starts the new school year and brand new semester.

Yes, we just got back from Winter Break on February 3rd. I don't understand the scheduling but it seems that it's standard throughout the Korean school system. I'm actually pretty relieved because with vacation and everything, winter break just flew by. I'm happy for the extra two weeks to lesson plan. 

I'm optimistic for the new year -- I have a better grasp, however small, on what I need to do and how to do it. The past week with my former and first co-teacher has been absolutely terrific. I forgot how much I missed her; she has a system that I can better see now that I'm not brand new to Korea. As much as I'd love for her to stay, I'm rooting for her to get the job in Seoul because that's where she lives. With a four month old baby, a husband, and the new responsibilities of motherhood, Moonee is super hero, literally a super hero, for all the work and patience she's had at school. Having kids changes you, and she's exhausted and her mind has to be going a million miles a minute; yet, she still takes the time to discuss the lessons and what's going to happen for me teaching wise next year. She makes me feel like I'm doing a good job, which, honestly, I haven't always felt. 

Next year, I will be teaching 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th grade. There will be two classes of each grade; therefore, I won't be teaching 1st or 2nd grade because my contract allows for a maximum of 22 teaching hours. However, I got convinced into teaching 6 additional classes a week, to the horror of my friends. 

We were enjoying some Vietnamese food when we started talking about work, as does happen. I know that six extra classes a week is a lot. I've been in negotiations, through my co-teacher, with the school for the past week. Originally, I thought I would have these extra classes on top of teaching extra 1st and 2nd grade classes, which would have been too much. But what convinced me to agree to teaching the extra classes was the number of students I will have per class - an average of 7 students - and the extra money - 600,000 won (roughly 600.00 USD). 

The class size is pretty incredible, compared to my usual 30-40 students, and apparently the students I will have are the ones that want to learn more English. I'm just thinking, "Man, what I'll be able to do!" The month of March will be a trial run to see if this can work. I'm a little skeptical but also encouraged by the challenge. I've always worked better with an overloaded plate than one with not enough food. And why did I come to Korea? To travel, yes, to experience the culture, yes, and to teach. It may not be my forte, but do it with passion or not at all. The key for me has been my students. They are good kids, even the naughtiest of them. And I'm not making them better at English per se, but I'm exposing them to how English sounds and am an outlet for them to conjure up what English they do know to make a conversation and ask questions. It's fulfilling to be part of that. 

You may bear blogging witness to a complete train wreck. Mondays and Thursdays, I will teach seven classes. Gosh, that looks even worse in writing. But if that does happen, I'll lick my wounds with the extra money I'll earn on top of my salary for the month of March. That's a huge chunk of money that will get me closer to paying off my student loans. The extra work and time is doable with the two weeks of planning time I have during Spring Break. And the small class sizes has me thinking of incorporating some of the children's books I brought with me into some story lessons. 

I may have made a huge mistake. Only March will tell. 

Spa Day: Visiting Icheon's German-Style Spa + Jjimjibang

The cold winter Saturday was a great day to spend at the spa. I'm definitely adding spas and jjimjibangs to my list of favorite winter activities, right next to drinking hot cocoa.

The Termeden Spa and Resort in Icheon is pretty impressive. A newer facility, it was like walking into a really rich person's house. The price reflected that - it cost 36,000 won (about 36.00 USD) to get in, mind you on a Saturday. But being 15 minutes away via free shuttle bus from downtown Icheon and the quality of the services, I would easily spend another Saturday there to rejuvenate.

 The free shuttle bus from downtown Icheon, near the Icheon Bus Terminal, took some digging to find. My friend was the one who knew about it, but it took searching through several travel blogs/unofficial spa sites to find out exactly where it picked up and what time. See below for timetables and details!

I wasn't positive I had the right bus stop, but I was feeling adventurous and decided to wait and see. I was 45 minutes early, but I had my iPod and a willingness to wait. Plus, there was and odang and fish pastry stand right next to the bus stop. Odang is a Japanese snack; I've heard it best described as a fish hot dog. Yum. Odang soup is one of my favorite soups we have at school. In the end, my patience paid off as a well-marked Termeden shuttle bus pulled up right on time and drove us to the Termeden.

Truly a resort, the Termeden includes a Korean-style spa (jjimjibang), a German-style spa (swimsuits please), an indoor swimming pool that extends into an outside one (complete with fountains, small waterfalls, caves, and water slides), a Korean-style sauna, Dr. Fish foot treatments, and places to eat, buy snacks, and go shopping. It was a lovely day. One of my favorite parts was lying in a pomegranate hot bath, outside, with snowflakes falling on my face. 

The Dr. Fish foot treatment was really cool. It cost 5,000 won for 20 minutes of having two different varieties of fish eat the dead skin off my feet and lower legs. It felt... slightly electrifying. It was like having gentle shocks or something all up and down my skin -- little vibrations. It was completely awesome. I was sitting next to a guy reading a newspaper whose son was squealing with delight at the fish tickling his skin. 

The whole spa-jjimjibang culture in Korea is something I know I'm going to miss a lot when I go back home. It is a family affair that the Koreans are just so chill about. Grandmas, grandpas, moms, dads, kids, old friends, new friends - the spa and jjimjibang are a place to relax, talk, and "cleanse your body and mind." The atmosphere is so comfortable with itself. Fun times and Vietnamese food afterwards!

Directions to the Termeden

A: Icheon to the Termeden:

1. Free shuttle bus (15 minutes; free): picks up at the city bus stop (the one in front of SC First Bank, or SC Foreign Exchange Bank) located across the street from the Icheon Bus Terminal

---> Timetable (to the Termeden): 8:20 / 9:20 / 11:20 / 13:00 / 15:00

---> Timetable (back downtown): 13:30 / 15:30 / 17:30 / 18:30 / 19:30 

2. Taxi (15 minutes from downtown; about 12,000 won one way): taxis situated everywhere around the Icheon Bus Terminal

B: Seoul to the Termeden:

1. Basic express bus to Icheon (1 hour; 4,100 won per ticket), then use the free shuttle bus or taxi service (see above): 

--> Timetable (from the Dong Seoul Bus Terminal; Subway Line 2, Gangbyeon Station): first bus 6:10AM, last bus 10:00PM (bus departs every 30-40 minutes)

--> Timetable (from the Express Bus Terminal; Subway Line 3 & 7, Express Bus Terminal Station): first bus 6:10AM, last bus 10:00PM (bus departs every 30-40 minutes)

2. Non-stop bus from Seoul to the Termeden, from the Dong Seoul Bus Terminal in Seoul (75 minutes; 5,100 won per ticket): I believe the bus leaves from Gate 26 

--> Timetable (to the Termeden): 9:20AM / 10:40AM

--> Timetable (back to Dong Seoul Bus Terminal): 4:00PM / 5:10PM

Family Shields & Castle Points

Throwback to Winter Camp, here are the awesome 3rd and 4th Grade family or team shields:

 

I was so impressed with how well each team worked together - truly collaborated - on their team shield. I've actually never seen anything like it. Each team did, but Team Student in particular spent a good half an hour in the planning stage. They had several sketches and and kept testing out different swatches of colored paper. I'm not positive but I guessed that they were inspired by the shield shape to turn make their shield into a pencil. It is a very clever design. 

Team Eagle chose their best drawer and, boy, was he talented. A third grader, he spent a lot of time on the beak. Getting the shape right was very important. His fellow teammates watched every stroke and discussed ways to improve the drawing the whole way through. Perfection was their goal. 

Team Dragon also chose their best drawer. They decided to work off of a picture, two of the boys holding the Samsung phone in the optimal position. A flurry of conversation occurred throughout the drawing process. The six of them then colored it in at the same time. I dunno why, but seeing them all hunched over their shield, coloring it in, made me feel really happy. 

Team Hamburger took a little prompting. They got stuck up on their team name. So, I asked them, "What do you like?" "Hamburger, Teacher." So they divvied up the shield and made it into what I thought was a food themed team shield. The man with his head cut off throws me. "Knife, Teacher, knife!" Yeah, they were particularly proud about the blood, which is red. 

--

Finally, I wanted to talk about "Castle Points." Basically, a sticker was awarded for project completion and to the winners of the various games we played. This points system really helped them stay motivated and provided a  physical measure of all the work they did. And they really liked choosing the stickers to put on their team castles. The team with the most points would win a prize at the end of the week I promised. 

Of course, I stressed about what the prizes should be, because I just don't know what

kids like these days, especially Korean kids. Seriously, I did some looking online and ended up getting the following:

1. Small lego sets (1,500 won each)
2. Sticker sheets (1,500 won each)
3. Big eraser that had "MELON" written on it (1,400 won)
4. BIC wite-out pen (2,000 won)
5. Individually wrapped chocolate cakes

They went crazy for the legos and stationary stuff. I wasn't sure they'd like any of it, but they were all about the legos. There was a moment of hesitation for one student who couldn't decide between a lego set or the BIC whit-out pen, but he went with the legos. They opened the sets and put them together immediately. And the class was small enough that I allowed the other teams to choose the leftover prizes, which was fine by them. "Teacher, very very thank you!" Worth every penny, or won. The chocolate cakes were the only prize left untouched. //

Day of Food

Winter Break is officially over (nooooooo!) and as difficult as it was to come back from the long holiday weekend in Busan (more on this later <3), it was comforting to hear the students' shouts and noise as I walked into the school. Plus, we got eased into the last two weeks of the school year with no classes and lots of food. A day of food.

The President-Principal treated all of the teachers to lunch at this kal guk su 칼국수* restaurant down the highway from the school. 칼국수 is one of my favorite Korean meals; loosely translated into hand-cut noodle soup, I feel unstoppable whenever I eat it. The noodles are homemade, thick, and juicy all at the same time. The broth has a subtle chicken-noodle-soup-esque flavor from the mussels, clams, and vegetable. This version also included seaweed. I'm always amazed at the dinosaur-sized pot of soup set before us, but then I start eating and think, " I could do this all day. Sit here and eat 칼국수."

My first co-teacher Moonee is back from maternity leave for at least the rest of the year. She's hoping she can get a job closer to her home in Seoul for next year, and I hope she can, too! Her daughter Seung Ah 승아 is possibly the cutest baby I have ever seen, and she turns 100 days old today. In Korea, the family makes and gives out white rice cakes to celebrate. The white rice cake means that the baby is healthy and that she will live a long life. I felt so honored to receive one!

The Doam teachers love to travel. Combined we traveled to Japan, Turkey, Spain, and Europe this Winter Break. A key chain from Spain, sweets from Europe, and a Badger 5th Quarter tee from home, I was feeling the love today -- thank you all, lots of love from Icheon, South Korea ::

*Fun Fact: 칼국수 was one of the first Korean words I learned