The Wake Up Call

So I’m cleaning out the closet of my classroom, separating crap into two piles – one for my backpack, the other for the garbage bin. I’ve accumulated quite a bit over the past six months that I want to keep and I’m wondering how I’ll possible carry this home. Or more precisely, how far will I get before the straps on my bag break.

I have this strange sense of déjà vu, which shouldn’t be strange at all. I’ve done this so many times now. I paced around the room a few times. I took a last look out my window at the mountain. We just had a decent dump of rain. The sky was clear and Bukhan mountain has never looked so impressive. Alas, no camera.

When I went back to work on the closet, I stopped myself. This should’ve felt liberating and fair but it didn’t. The kids were giving me this look, too young to understand. They wanted my markers to draw pictures on the board.

This is the part of the day when Judy and Jenny come running in to show me what crazy toys they have in their bags today. Then Jimmy does something silly and we all have a huge laugh. It didn’t work today. But I did drop the bag and close the closet door.

Today was not the day to walk out. The kids hadn’t softened me up. It was more complicated than that.

I looked into Sandy teacher’s classroom. She was sweeping up a mess the parents had left behind for us. They use our rooms in the morning and are totally inconsiderate. Her face looked so heavy. She was a good-looking woman wearing a lot of stress. She didn’t ask what I was doing. She didn’t have to.

Running this program together, our jobs, in a sense, depend heavily on one another. And then they also depend on things we can’t control. She’s an awesome teacher who’s been going well beyond the call of duty to make this work. I was about to leave her in a world of hurt. But that didn’t soften me either.

I stayed because it was Friday. Never walk out on a Friday. Not in Korea anyway.

Today the kids were rehearsing their performance of the musical “The Sound of Music”. Lately, that’s how we finish the day. I walk to the subway with that song in my head – do, a deer, a female deer.

I sat back and watched the rehearsal and enjoyed it immensely. It was as though all their little screw ups just made it that much funnier – the priceless improv that should get written into the script. I watched on knowing that I probably won’t be there to see the real performance next month.

I wondered who would take the role of the butler. That was my part. Sandy sat at her desk wondering the same thing. We haven’t talked about this. But she had that look of women’s intuition in her eye – like she’d read my mind and processed the data before I could make sense of it myself.

Payday passed last week like any other, except we didn’t get paid. There are times when the check is late. Then there are times when the check isn’t coming. Part of being an English teacher is knowing one from the other – Knowing when to teach and when to walk.

Things go from bad to worse in a heartbeat. But there are always signs. When you’re unhappy, these signs are flashing neon. I guess when you’re enjoying the gig, and this was a good gig, and when you like the people, and these people are really nice, the temptation is there to ignore the obvious. I thought that in public school the money would always be there – the water in the well.

Contracts in Korea are infinitely more complicated than any I’ve ever encountered elsewhere. My boss doesn’t just employ me. He’s my sponsor in the country. He also signed the papers on my apartment and covers the rent.

The moment you quit a job, they immediately come for the keys to your apartment and kick you out. Your visa becomes void and your days in the country are suddenly numbered. This is the point when, if you can’t find good help, and that’s very likely, I imagine most teachers would just head to the airport and take the first flight out across the pond.

As long as I’m still going to work, I’ve got a home and a place to think until I figure out a solution to this predicament.

A Friend of Mine…

Now anyone who’s taught abroad is laughing at this title. There are so many tragic stories. They surround us. How could I possibly pick one? I’ll just talk about this week.

A friend of mine recently sent a letter of complaint to his school. He stated that he really wanted to stay there but that he was contracted to teach 6 classes per day and was given 11.

It was wearing him out, not to mention that doubling your workload on the first day, after you’ve arrived in the country and signed the contract is just plain unfair.

He was hoping they’d see his point of view and find a way to reduce his hours. That was reasonable.

The school waited until the thanksgiving holiday began – for a week just about everything in town is closed.

Their first move was to cut the telephone and internet line to his apartment. Then they sent a Saturday morning email informing him that he had until midnight to vacate the apartment and return the keys. The letter also recommended that he go to the airport and leave the country immediately. There’s nothing quite like Korean hospitality.

His agent was on vacation in Tibet, of all places and essentially useless. The school knew he was alone and the timing was perfect. I heard about this on Sunday. By Wednesday, he was on his way to America. He was probably the most qualified English teacher in the country.

What Now?

So this past week has left me feeling like there’s really no one who can be trusted. I’ve got a low down, negative attitude that’s going to be hard to turn around this time.

My boss is expecting me to take one for the team right now. But I don’t feel any sense of “team” whatsoever.

I found a bath house down the street that charges $7 per night. And I’ve got an agent who will show me to the next school. Everything beyond that is a cloud of smoke. At some point, the money I’ve saved will cheer me up again. Onward…

The shocker is that I’ve been doing this for nearly ten years now. I’m like the kid who pukes his guts out on the roller coaster and then jumps in line to ride it again.

I get the impression that a lot of people are here teaching as a “time out” from their lives. They’ll ride it out for a while and then return to their comfort zone. But I’m having a “this IS your life” moment. A friend of mine put it well – he called it “a life without context”, nothing solid to hold onto. There may be a lot of important elements missing, but there’s no shortage of drama.