Where Have All the Outlets Gone?

I think I've partially solved the mystery of my increased headaches (besides the two health issues):  it's the lack of outlets for my stress and emotions.  While I have always been a person who actually thrives, to an extent, on stress, here I have encountered a situation never previously dealt with:  my primary outlets for stress are completely gone.  Additionally, I have dealt with a considerable amount of emotion here, something I am not generally comfortable with or welcoming to (I generally completely avoid anger, and I have a similar response to sadness and grief).

My biggest outlet was always the presence of a pet, usually a dog.  In fact, I have only spent two years out of my entire life NOT having a dog (not including this almost-a-year in China).  I never realized just how much that meant to me until now.  I wondered recently how I coped with loneliness in Korea, since I was so isolated in Gyeongju.  The answer is Jasper.  That furry darling got me through a lot; I don't know that I would have made it through grad school without him and, later, Eowyn.  But here, I've had to give that up.  I dream at night about Jasper and Eowyn, and I often wake up feeling a sense of emptiness at their absence.  In the past, empty apartments never felt so empty as this one does now.  Some days I almost dread the apartment, knowing that no one furry is waiting with wagging tail to greet me.  During the difficult emotional times, such as now, the apartment almost feels like a prison at some moments.

I also have greatly missed my jewelry-making, though not nearly to the extent that I miss having a dog.  When I was packing for China, I wanted to bring my supplies, but since I had no idea what situation I would be entering, I was afraid to bring too many things that would have to be carted back to America if things didn't work out (clothes can easily be disposed of, but not all belongings are so easy to part with -- a lot of money went into my jewelry supplies!).  On the bright side, I'll at least have these things when my parents come to visit in two months.

My third missing outlet is a bike -- what a difference that made in Korea!  Riding past the tombs, the rice paddies, the temples . . . it was rejuvenating.  I have thought about buying a bike here, but being more in a city than ever before in my life, I am uncertain about the quality of rides that I would have.  Somehow I can't imagine gaining quite as much relaxation from back alley streets as I found pedaling past cornfields in Michigan, the river in Gyeongju, the flowering dogwoods and Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia.

I've made studying Chinese an outlet here, and it does honestly help, but I think I really need to find another outlet as well, one that perhaps uses my mind a bit less.  My writing, at present, just adds stress -- the more I read through and edit Sídhe Eyes, the more I grow to hate what I have written.  At present, I am thoroughly convinced that my novel is the most uninspired and nauseating piece of drivel ever written.  I'd love to step away from it, but I can't let down the rest of Lantern Hollow Press.  And honestly, I do want to publish the thing . . . I just kind of want to burn it first.  I keep hoping that it will turn out like my thesis -- I spent the whole time convinced I had written something completely bush-league and pathetic, but when I recently reread it, I was actually a bit impressed (I even, I will admit, briefly again entertained the thought of expanding it into a book -- delusions of grandeur, I know).

I guess I'll just have to keep searching until I find that perfect outlet for life in China.

Any suggestions?

The Great Camera Caper

For those who are regular readers, you already know the long, sad story of my battle with cameras since leaving the USA in July.  For the sake of newer readers, however, I'll go ahead and summary the whole story, rather than just starting with the conclusion.

So, here is the "bullet point" version of my long-lasting camera escapades:

• When packing to leave the USA, I had the hindrance of having to first move everything from Virginia to Michigan.  Because of that, some things got hopelessly lost.  Among those hopelessly lost items were both my universal camera battery charger and the cords to connect either of my digital cameras to my computer (in lieu of the charger, the cord would actually have sufficed for charging the cameras, so really I could have gotten by with just one cord).  So, no way to charge the cameras and no way to access the pictures on the cameras.  Hoping optimistically that I would be able to find a charger and cord in China for at least one of the cameras, I went ahead and packed both cameras.

• Once I arrived in China, I discovered that no, cords could not be found, nor could acceptable chargers.  So, I now had two completely useless digital cameras.

• I spent a ridiculous sum ordering the appropriate cord for my Cybershot off of Amazon.  It took a while for it to clear customs and make it to me, but once it finally did . . . I learned that it was for a later model than the one I have.  So, still two useless cameras.

• I attempted again at some different stores to see if I could find the necessary cord for at least one of the cameras in China -- no luck.  I felt saddened and a bit covetous every time a friend whipped out her camera to snap pictures of all of the beautiful and new things we were seeing and experiencing in those first months.

• I did considerable research into the best cameras for my purposes and went ahead and ordered a new camera off of Amazon.  I figured that it would prove to be worth the investment, since both the amount of megapixels and the zoom were so much higher than either of my cameras.  I awaited the arrival of my new camera in eager anticipation of the wonderful photos I would soon be able to take . . . 

• Chinese customs kidnapped my new camera.

• Weeks passed . . . 

• I filled out forms, sent copies of everything from the sales slip to a copy of my passport, and even had our school receptionist do a bit of begging and beseeching on my behalf. 

• More weeks passed . . .

• Finally after paying a ridiculous ransom (they called it a customs fee), I received my new camera.  The first days in China were long past, but at least I could finally catch up on photo-taking . . . or could I?

• The new camera, as it turned out, did not come with an SD card.  The internal memory could only store up to twelve photos.  

• I went to the electronics stores around town, only to learn that none of them carried the type of SD card that my new camera required.  I now had two completely useless cameras and one partially useless one.

• I felt like weeping as time after time, I had the privilege of traveling to various places throughout China (Hwangdao, Beijing, Weihai, Penglai, Weifang, Shenyang), only to be unable to capture any of it on film.  So many special moments had to go completely unrecorded.  I was able to get some photos from friends, but it just wasn't the same.

• Months passed . . . 

• The first semester of school ended . . .

• On my daytrip down to Gyeongju, I stopped at an electronics store that has a reputation for having everything.  I asked for an SD card, showed them the camera, they got out an SD card for me . . . and it was the wrong size.  The two salesmen informed me that I would have to get it online.

• Here in Seoul, I decided to put forth one last effort.  I went to an E-Mart, figuring that I would once again be disappointed.  Even when the salesman handed me the SD card and I payed for it, I was still convinced that it would turn out to be the wrong one and I would have to return it.  At a Starbucks, with considerable trepidation, I inserted the card into the camera . . . and it fit.  At last, I had a digital camera that I could use!  Overjoyed, I began to mentally plan out where I could go to start experimenting, at long last, with my wonderful new camera that finally was usable . . .

• The battery died.  

• I left the charger in China.

2011 in Review

2011 was . . . wow, even I am at a loss as to how to describe it.  I think this is the best I can do:  2011 was a bipolar teenage female year having a very rough, long menstrual cycle and occasionally getting drunk or taking mind-altering anti-psychotic medications in order to cope with it, and also battling numerous authority issues.  Yup, that about sums up 2011.

History students will one day study this year -- actually, my history students will study it for a little while when they return to school at the end of January!  It was the year of protests, revolutions, scandals, dead despots, and the world media's obsession with Pippa Middleton's rear end.  I don't have space for all of the events that took place, but here were just a few that captured my attention:

• The US finally got Bin Laden.  Now I am not a person who rejoices in death of anyone, but here I had to make an exception.  That man was evil.  I don't care that another will just rise up to take his place; Bin Laden had a special kind of dreadful hate about him, and I cheered when I read that he was gone from the world at last.  I still have nightmares sometimes about September 11 -- that day will likely haunt me for the rest of my life, and I didn't even lose anyone that day.  I cannot forget the horrible, wrenching fear that gripped us all that day and the days that followed.  My teenage journal records all the sleepless nights I spent as a high-schooler, convinced that we were headed for World War III.
• The Arab Spring.  It was like a game of Middle Eastern dominoes, with revolutions breaking out right and left and Twitter and Facebook suddenly playing a role that their creators never imagined.  I hope and pray that the new governments will do better by their people than the old, but . . . I am not holding my breath.
• The deaths of Qaddafi and Kim.  Two more evil men, both of whom had hands and hearts so blackened with blood and corruption that they almost ceased to be human. Others will take their places, sadly.  Especially in the case of North Korea, winter is far from over.
• A whole bunch of people throughout the US got really mad, had no common goals/aims/ideologies, and decided to riot and basically make lawless pests of themselves.  I'm sorry -- I just can't take the "Occupy" protesters seriously.  Change is not brought about by neglecting your responsibilities, shouting, waving signs (several of them with abominably bad spelling, by the way), and trying to goad the police into using gas.  What takes place when those protesters gather is nothing grander than small-scale anarchy -- it's like a bunch of overgrown toddlers throwing tantrums because Mommy won't let them breastfeed anymore.  Yes, change needs to happen, though I am certain I disagree with most of the protesters as to exactly what type of change is necessary.  There is certainly a better way to bring it about.

2011 was a big year in my personal life as well.  I really have no historical significance at all, although I do like to hope that I at least brighten whatever corner I happen to be in (I do try, anyway).  However, since this is MY blog, I'm going to indulge in mild narcissism and review some of the big events that happened to me this year:

• I brought in 2011 with no clear idea of what my future held, other than that I was pretty sure God was ignoring my wishes and calling me back to the classroom.  After the Manasses experience, I had sworn off ever teaching again.  Fortunately, God knows what's best for me and never listens to my feeble protests (to be fair, He does make the journey very pleasant once I stop kicking and screaming).  It was not until February that I became aware that I was likely headed back overseas in my future -- and even then, I confess that I had plenty of doubts.  I had two dogs, tons of furniture, and a car -- how could I possibly leave the USA?
• I fought the War of the Thesis.  It was bloody, exhausting, fraught with danger and difficulty, plus the CIA tried to reclassify a large portion of the documents that I needed.  At several points, both my thesis chair and I believed that the thing would never be written.  I had nightmares about showing up to my defense with nothing to defend.  I even wrote a short story about my thesis becoming self-aware, coming to life, and trying to kill me.  On April 23, just a few months after I started, I was able to write on this blog, "As of 10:00 am today, the horrible, monstrous, insidious, ill-formed offspring of my feeble mind, also known as my thesis, which has plagued me like a host of ten thousand camels tap-dancing on my shoulders in combat boots, is finally written."  On May 2, I defended the monster and passed with flying colors!  In the same vein, I graduated on May 13 with my Master of Arts degree in history, having completed it in a year and a half, and finishing with High Distinction (solid 4.0).  That's pretty much the biggest achievement in my 27 years of life.
• There was, of course, the car accident on May 6.  A distracted young driver hit me head-on on a mountain road.  She is now trying to push a claim against me.  Ah, irresponsible, greedy Americans -- how they warm the heart.
• I moved to China!  It was by far the biggest decision of my life, but once I made it, I never doubted that it was the right choice (even though my family thought I was nuts -- they usually do, so I lovingly ignored them).  Since leaving in late July, I have found a degree of happiness and contentment that I previously could never have imagined.  I teach at a fantastic school with the finest group of educators I have ever met, and my students are a brilliant and witty ensemble of pure awesomeness. I don't have a single student that I would like to lead to the guillotine!  I occasionally indulge in the mental image of bopping one or two of them, but on the whole, I love 'em all!  I also have had my heart completely stolen away by China -- who would ever have foreseen it?
• My mom got sick.  This was, for me, probably the most difficult thing to get through in 2011.  She's doing all right now, but for a while, she had me pretty terrified.  It's really tough to grapple with sick relatives and not be able to do anything for them because you're thousands of miles away.
• I wound up on this surprise extended journey in Korea, all because of an obstinate ankle that refuses to behave.

And so, I face 2012 with a lot less uncertainty than I faced 2011 (for one thing, I have THE BEST JOB EVER! and for another, I don't have to worry about whether or not I can actually write a thesis).  As I enter another year, I do have a few questions on my mind:

• Will I start the new year with an operation?
• When do I get to leave Korea and go back to China (not that Korea isn't a great country, but China is home)?
• Will Kim Jong-Un be as evil as his father?  What will happen here in Asia because of him?
• How will I ever get this bloodsucking reckless driver off my back?  Doesn't she realize that I'm as good as a pauper?!
• How soon is too soon to give my freshmen a pop quiz next semester?
• Being out of sight, is it only a matter of time before I'm out of mind for the people I left behind in the USA?  Has it already happened with some?
• How can I better brighten my corner?  Am I doing enough?

Farewell, 2011!  Welcome into the world, 2012!

And a happy New Year to everyone!

"No Unnecessary Walking"

The doctor said "no unnecessary walking".

I am not a good patient.  When a doctor tells me to rest and drink lots of fluids, I go to work instead (but I do increase my coffee intake -- hey, coffee is a fluid!).  Actually, I don't even go to the doctor for most illnesses.  I follow the example set by my mother and wait until it's bronchitis or plague.  I'm a Thompson -- we're tough!  (And stubborn, and accident-prone . . . ).  When I sprain my ankle, I often don't bother to ice it (but I do wrap and elevate . . . and then walk on it).  I never finish antibiotics -- I stop when the symptoms stop or when I just plain forget to take them.  Yes, thanks to that habit, I will probably be one of those people who die of antibiotic-resistant ear infection someday.  When I had my wisdom teeth removed, I pulled out my own stitches -- and the pain was a lot more bearable after I did so.  I don't read all the warnings on medication.  I don't measure out my cough syrup -- I just take a big gulp from the bottle when I feel like I need it.  I never stay on crutches as long as I'm supposed to.

Yes, I am a very, very bad patient.  A patient with no patience for being a patient, in fact.  Which, coupled with chronic badluckitus, is not a good combination.  Not at all.  I am very often a patient, and I seldom listen to all the directions.

I really am trying to be a good patient right now.  I'm trying not to walk . . . but not walking is BORING!  I watched a Chinese soap opera with Korean subtitles today (I understood about 10% of what was said and absolutely none of the subtitles).  I studied my Chinese characters.  I played Sparkle on my iPad.  I threw a rope for my friend's dog.  I did laundry.  I planned writing assignments for my sophomores and my freshmen (mwa ha ha).  I practiced my epitome-of-evil-supervillain-history-teacher laugh.  I tried not to think about how much I really wanted a long walk . . . even in freezing-beyond-belief, so-cold-that-your-eyeballs-turn-to-iceballs Seoul.  Occasionally, I cast hate-filled glances at my ankle and talked aloud of amputation (the ankle heard me.  I don't care if it doesn't have ears).

Four more days until I return to the hospital for more tests.  Four more days of being a good patient. . . . You know, I wouldn't mind taking a cross-country trip to Jinju again . . . maybe walk around that castle for a few hours?

Okay, fine.  I'll go find another Chinese soap opera with Korean subtitles.

Bad News, Bad News, and Good News

Okay, good news first:  According to the doctor whom I saw at the hospital today, I'm not just imagining things -- there actually is something wrong with me!  (Yes, this is good news.  Few things are as annoying as pain or other symptoms with a cause that a doctor cannot locate.)

The first bad news:  My ankle is worse off than I thought.  I thought that I just had a stretched ligament, from all of the sprains I've had over the past nine years.  Wrong!  Apparently, somewhere down the road, I managed to tear that ligament.  And, there is a problem with my leg that I never knew about (the muscle has had damage and weakening owing to the ankle problems, and it is in turn contributing to the ankle problems).  I wound up being at the hospital until about 3:00 today, and in addition to my two doctor appointments, also squeezed in a radiology visit.  Thank goodness I have really good insurance now!

The second bad news:  I have to stay in Korea a bit longer than planned, because I need to do more testing to determine what is to be done with me.  I definitely have to have physical therapy, both for the ankle and for the leg, but I also am probably going to wind up having surgery.  I'll find out for sure after some more testing and related mafan on the 4th of January.  Until then, the doctor warned me "No unnecessary walking."  Not sure what that means, in a country (continent, actually) where one walks just about everywhere, but I guess that means no more cross-country trips this week.  Good thing I did Gyeongju yesterday!

Stephanie Returns to Gyeongju

Yesterday, I stood in the exact same spot where I had stood three years ago.  Actually, I probably stood in a lot of the same spots where I was three years ago.  Sadly, a lot of things have changed since then.  I was hoping to prove Daphne du Maurier wrong for once, but she really was uncannily correct when she wrote, "We can never go back to Manderly."

I flew into Korea on the 27th, and since this voyage is mostly for the purpose of having my bad ankle finally tended to, I opted to go down to Gyeongju on the 28th, before any doctor had the chance to tell me to stay off my ankle.  They've gotten a high speed train down there since I was there, which means that it now takes just a little over two hours to go from the top of Korea to near the bottom (i.e. Seoul to Gyeongju).

I won't lie -- I was feeling pretty sappy and emotional about going back for a visit.  I had eager plans to surprise Cate, my wonderful former boss.  I thought there might be a chance of even running into former students, though they would have grown quite a bit since I saw them last.  That year that I spent there in Gyeongju was one of the most foundational years of my life -- it was the year that I went from being a pathetic, broken shell of a human being (2006 and 2007 were not kind to me), took back the reins, and grew into a person I could feel confident being.  I had a lot of spiritual growth during that year, too.

I anticipated that Gyeongju would not be exactly the same as I left it -- after all, Korea changes incredibly quickly.  I just didn't count on one very sad change . . .

English World is gone.  The small, successful hagwon (academy) where I worked for that lovely year has left without a trace.  Perhaps it failed during the economic hardships that have struck the world, or perhaps Cate just grew tired of the stress of running it.  I have no idea where she is now -- English World was the only link to finding her.  In its place is a completely different business now, and the building, though fundamentally the same, is also changed.

I walked all around the city, ignoring the protests from my ankle, marveling at what had changed and what had stayed the same.  Many of the stores I patronized are still there, even the dinky little Hello Kitty store where I used to buy stationary.  The coffee place that I loved most is now a different type of restaurant, though the outer decor of the building is the same.  I found the spot downtown where I fell and sprained my bad ankle during my first month in Korea, and avoided a repeat.  I chuckled when I crossed the street at the same crosswalk where the infamous pears-down-the-shirt incident took place.  I avoided slipping on the curb where I tumbled off my bike one morning, and I gave a friendly wave to the tomb that I used to pass each day on my way to English World.  I stopped at the "fish cookie lady's" stand to buy the treat that I used to love -- and she misunderstood my request for two cookies, made me buy a whole bag instead, and yelled at me.  A creepy guy tried to get me to share his sausage-on-a-stick.  He did not stir any sentimental memories for me.

In the end, between all of the cross-country travel, I only spent about 4 hours back in Gyeongju.  And, honestly, those four hours were a bit disappointing -- no joyous reunions, the "fish cookie lady" has turned mean and senile, and the foreign friends have all gone on to other places.  Nevertheless, I'm glad I had the chance to go back for a day.  The last time I was there, I really thought it was the last time.  It was nice to be wrong.

And to Cate, wherever she may be now:  Thanks for a wonderful year, and for being one of the best bosses I ever worked for.  I'll never forget all of your kindness to me.

Stephanie's Latest Addiction

As those close to me know, I have a habit of going through phases where I crave a certain food above all other things, sometimes to ridiculous extents.  There was, for example, the Great Grapefruit Binge of 2001, in which I went through the equivalent of an orchard in about two weeks' time.  In college I went through my Rice Phase and my Cheese and Crackers Fortnight.  There was the Frozen Mango Madness in Korea, which cropped up for weeks at a time throughout my year there, as well as the Jajang Myeon Period, in which I ate that same dish for lunch and dinner for about three weeks straight (and still wasn't sick of it).  Shortly after I arrived here in China, I experienced the Dragonfruit Bender of 2011, and subsequently learned that overabundance of dragonfruit in the diet has unpleasant side effects for the tummy.

I have recently become enamored with red dates.  I cannot get enough of them!  I was introduced to red date yogurt by my friend Kathryn several weeks ago, and have been eating it almost daily ever since.  I love it because it is not too sweet, and it has just the slightest edge to the flavor.  While in Weihai, Linda and her husband introduced me to the actual fruit, which I immediately took to.

I find that the flavor is best when the dates are in their mostly green phase of life.  They are called red dates because they turn red after being dried.  There are apparently two different types of them, and my kind friends had me sample both.  Those pictured above are the sort that I like best.

Some of the Chinese staff at school were explaining to me recently that red dates (also known as Chinese dates or jujubes) have a ton of health benefits, and when I researched the matter, I found that they were quite right.  Apparently, these have been used in Chinese medicine for over 1,000 years!  They are good for strengthening the blood, helping to cure anemia, and they are supposed to aid the spleen and several other organs.  Additionally (and for me, most importantly), they taste utterly delicious.

The texture is similar to that of an apple when the dates are fresh, and their size is comparable to that of a grape.  They are not too pricy of an indulgence: I bought about a pound of them from Lotus today and paid the equivalent of less than three dollars for them.  You'd pay more than that for chips or a lot of other snacks, and these are way better for you.  I prefer to just munch them as-is, but I have seen a ton of recipes for them, so I may experiment a bit later.

"Going Chinese"

One of the Chinese staff at school remarked to me the other day that I'm "becoming very Chinese".  I agreed and told her that I'm basically an "egg" -- I'm white on the outside but yellow on the inside (and no, that is not a racist comment; it's a joke made between friends of different races, and both of of us found it funny)!  The same thing happened to me in Korea; for me, Asia is just a really good fit and I find it comfortable to assimilate into the culture in various ways.

The particular form of cultural assimilation that inspired my friend's comment was that I went out last Friday for a massage with other coworkers and decided to try cupping while I was at it.  Cupping is an expensive trendy thing on the US West Coast; in China, it's pretty normal and very inexpensive (about $3 for ten minutes).  Several of our Chinese staff swear by the health benefits of it.  In fact, one of them, Shine, was talking just recently about how her mother-in-law does cupping on her entire family any time one of them starts to feel sick, and it apparently makes them much better.

Personally, I have very high respect for Asian medicine and Asian health ideas.  In Korea, I personally witnessed the way spicy food and kimchi cured colds in a fraction of the time, and I saw the way that acupuncture cured my boss, Cate, after she had spent a miserable week dealing with horrible indigestion (it was so bad that she could barely get up).  I have had Korean, Thai, and Chinese massages, and have personally experienced remarkable health benefits from each.  The holistic way that they view the body makes sense and has positive results.  So, when Chinese friends/coworkers were telling me that cupping worked, it seemed to me worth giving it a try, even if my American brain had no idea how it could possibly be any good.

For those who don't know what cupping is, here's a description of my experience:  Following my two-hour massage (at which point I was ready to melt onto the floor), the masseuse took a torch and lit it.  Then, holding it mere inches from my bared back (a bit intimidating, yes), he used it to burn the oxygen out of glasses, which he then stuck to my back.  The lack of oxygen created a vacuum, which sucked an impressive amount of my skin up into each of the glasses.  Although this process may sound painful, it actually only hurt on my lower back, and not badly at that.  When the guy pulled the glasses off of me, the "SPLOCKing" noise could be heard in the next room, much to the delight of my coworkers.

So how was my experience?  To be honest, I think there might be something to cupping.  I definitely had a spring in my step that hasn't been there in a while, I had a noticeable lack of muscle pain (yes, I know, the massage definitely helped with that, too), I slept better than ever the next two nights, and I really felt invigorated.  I've decided to try cupping once a month for the next six months, just to see if it makes a difference.

Below, see the results of cupping -- and no, those bruises really didn't hurt!  (The lighting and the webcam washed out some of the bruises -- I had a total of seventeen of them.)

Wishing I Could Hear Your Voice Again...

I've had "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again," from The Phantom of the Opera stuck in my head today, and it has been very appropriate, since I've had Korea on my mind again. One line in particular seems very apt: "Wishing I could hear your voice again, knowing that I never will." Getting back to life in the USA has been a lot harder on me than anyone else knows - mostly since I haven't let on to anyone how I feel. I dream about Korea several nights each week, and I still can't look at my photos without tearing up. I fell wholeheartedly in love with a country and an entire school full of children, and I get a stabbing pain in the heart every time I remember them.

It has always been far too easy for me to love, which means that wherever I am, I'm always missing someone. In the past, this was never a huge issue, since I can still phone, email, or visit those who are dear and far away. The situation with Korea, however, is like losing several loved ones to death - sure they're still alive, but I'll never see them again. There is a permanent separation here that does not exist in my usual relationships. It was so heavenly to have so many children to love (and an entire country) for a year, but now I'm left trying to adjust to life without them. I read my replacement teacher's blog today, and it made me cry because of all I had to leave behind. How much longer before I can look at pictures and videos from my year in Korea without giving in to tears?

When Good Vacations Go Bad

Here, for my curious readers, is a summary of what happened on my trip to Greece and Ireland, which I was still supposed to be on right now:

The first few days were great. I walked for about ten hours a day, hiked, photographed everything, gorged myself on history, and kept getting mistaken for a Greek by the Greeks! It was looking like the best trip ever. Which brings us to Saturday, April 4...

I woke up feeling a bit sick. I brushed it off as just blood sugar problems (I've gotten to where my sugar is never above 68 now, so feeling weak or sick in the morning is pretty normal). I took the bus to Kifissia, then caught the metro to Monastiriki...or so I thought. Turns out they were doing some major work on the metro suddenly, so it was only going a short ways. I got deposited in a bad part of Athens, with no idea which bus to take to get where I wanted to go. I didn't want to waste good money on a taxi, so I opted to walk in the direction of the Acropolis (I figured that I could use that to navigate, once I could finally see it). I wound up lost for about two hours, during which time I re-sprained my bad ankle (left), and hurt my bad knee (right).

I finally found where I needed to be, after several miles of walking. Since I wasn't about to be slowed down by a bum ankle, I went to several archaeological sites, hiked all around them, and of course, hurt my ankle worse. Then I started to feel a whole lot sicker. I thought it might be from all the time in the hot sun, so I got some gellato. I started feeling even worse, and then got a four-alarm migraine. At that point, I knew I had to go back to the hotel. I asked directions at the metro station, and was informed that I could take a different line partway, then catch a bus, then get back on the metro to get to Kifissia. As I was waiting for the metro, I collapsed from dizziness, which resulted in a crowd of concerned (and very sweet) Greeks around me. Finally, I made it back to Kifissia.

On the bus from Kifissia to Anixi (where my hotel was), I threw up all over myself and the floor of the bus. Since I was so humiliated and felt so bad for subjecting everyone else to that sight, I got off, planning to clean up a little and then catch another bus. When I was searching my bag for more kleenex, I discovered that I had been mugged at some point. My wallet had contained my credit card, driver's license, all my cash, and my travelers' checks. So, I was now sick, injured, and moneyless in Greece.

After walking the three or four miles back to the hotel (which was murder on my ankle), I called my parents for help. We were able to cancel my credit card easily, so the low-life thief won't get much fun out of that. Then I had my parents book me a flight back home, and help me cancel the rest of the vacation (there really wasn't any other option). On Monday morning I flew back home. It was definitely not the vacation I had imagined.

Still, it could have been a lot worse. God was looking out for me, even if He did let some bad things happen. I always carry my passport when I'm vacationing in other countries (just in case). On the fateful Saturday, however, I took my passport out of my bag for some reason and left it at the hotel. Also, I did get to have a couple of wonderful days before the "stuff" hit the fan. I got to see the things I wanted to see most of all, and I even got a few souvenirs. I could have been hurt a lot worse, I could have been injured physically by the mugger, I could have been raped and murdered when I was lost in the bad area. I could have been lost much longer. And let's not forget how wonderful the management at my hotel were. They let me stay an extra night, arranged for a cab to the airport and then let me charge it to my bill with them, and were very sympathetic listeners.

So, while it was definitely the worst vacation of my life, it could have been a lot worse. Now I just need to get over this awful "mystery-plague" that I'm sick with.

Apparently I'm a Terrorist

The journey home from Korea, as one might expect, was not an uneventful one. After all, this is me we're talking about. "Interesting" things always happen to me!

Of course, I kind of set myself up this time. Not only was I flying all the way from Korea to the USA, I also had a short layover in Japan. That meant three trips through customs! Three chances for mishaps, in other words. I also had the following additional complications:
1. I was traveling with my dog (he went cargo, not carry-on).
2. Owing to the DREADFUL exchange rate, I did not change any of my won that I had saved into dollars. So, I was carrying nine million won in ten thousand won bills. Yeah, you might as well start giggling now.
3. I was smuggling two bottles of soju in one of my checked suitcases, wrapped up in two of my sweatshirts.
4. One of my bags had had its mate destroyed on the journey to Korea, so I knew the airlines were salivating at another chance to demolish the set.

So, anyone want to make any predictions or bets before I tell you what "interesting" things happened on the long journey home? Okay, I'll give you a minute....ready? All right, read on:

Jasper actually caused very few troubles. I had a health form and a signed rabies certificate, as well as an airline-approved dog carrier. After what amounted to an interview with someone in an office with a very long, official-sounding name (it was in English, but I can't remember it), I filled out some paperwork, paid two different people, and then Jasper was whisked away on the same conveyer belt as my luggage. I could hear his tail thumping on the side on the carrier as he drifted away from me.

I would like to give quick kudos to Northwest Airlines for their Priority Pet program (since I'm going to complain about their airline in just a few paragraphs, I figure I should also mention what they did right). Before both of my flights took off, a flight attendant brought me a paper stating that my dog was safely on board. You cannot imagine how much easier my flights went when I didn't have to struggle with the fear that my dog had been abandoned in Japan (he doesn't speak the language). So for that part of the trip, I give my warmest thanks to Northwest Airlines.

I discovered when I got to Gimhae airport in Busan that security had apparently been stepped up a notch (maybe because they knew I was flying that day). Not only did they have the normal x-ray security check of carry-on bags; they had also decided to unpack each carry-on after it got through being screened. Since I had nine million won in cash, they were naturally a bit curious about me. I patiently explained about the exchange rate woes, they carefully examined my money, and all seemed to be well. Then, they discovered the horrifyingly dangerous weapon that I was trying to smuggle in my carry-on luggage...

Without giving the matter any thought, I had carelessly thrown a lavendar facial sheet into one of my carry-on bags. It was like a giant wet-wipe with eye-holes (in its original sealed package, with what it was proclaimed boldly in large type - in two different languages), so I figured that made it technically not a liquid, and I figured it would be just fine. I was, of course, wrong. Apparently, face masks are an extremely inhumane torture technique used by the likes of Hamas and Al Quaida. I could, after all, threaten the pilot with a facial if he didn't divert the plane. Clearly, I was in possession of something fearsome and dreadful. At least, that's the impression I got from the reactions to my facial sheet.

Immediately, I was suspiciously interrogated about what this horrendous thing was. I explained carefully, as two airport employees attempted to penetrate my soul with their piercing eyes. Then they discussed the matter amongst themselves. Finally, I was allowed to keep the facial sheet. I figured that with that troublesome search behind me, my troubles were over. Fat chance!

As I said before, security had been kicked up a notch when I was leaving Korea. So, they were unpacking each carry-on a second time at the gate. I had purchased a Gatorade after completing the first security check (not aware there would be a second), and the airport employee quickly confiscated that. Then she saw all the cash, and I had to trot out my explanation of that. Then, her eyes narrowed in horror as she saw...yep, the facial sheet again. I once again explained what it was (she could have just read the package, but I'm not sure that they bother teaching airport security employees top-level skills like reading anymore). Once again, a conference had to take place between two security people. Then, the decision was made. They confiscated the facial sheet. I have to say, I was relieved to see it go. I had no idea what a volatile substance lavender is.

(NOTE: Once, on a flight to Oregon, it was discovered upon landing that the couple behind me had smuggled a dog onboard. That's right: a LIVING, BREATHING Pomeranian made it through x-ray without notice. Yet a facial sheet almost landed me in an interrogation room. I've more than once seen hobbling old women, barely able to walk, deprived of their walkers so that those can be examined more thoroughly for drugs/weapons, yet I've also seen kids pull out giant scissors to work on craft projects on planes, and I've seen people get alcohol through and drink it once aboard the aircraft - after they started the idiotic all-liquids-in-a-one-quart-bag rule. Anyone else think airport security is a joke?)

When I arrived in Tokyo, I had to have my carry-ons unpacked and searched thoroughly as soon as I departed the plane (everyone had to go through this, which meant a very long wait before any of us could make it to customs). Even though I was connecting to another flight, I still had to go through Japanese customs. I'm guessing that they had probably kicked up their security in Japan for the same reason Korea had (I have no idea why). Since I no longer had the facial sheet, I only had the cash to explain, and I was getting to be a pro at that.

The flight from Japan was long and turbulant. We hit a storm system as we left Tokyo, and the plane was bounced around like it was stuck in an angry pinball machine. Poor Jasper must have been terrified! Even though I never get airsick, I started to feel a little nauseated. Then, coming into Detroit, we hit an even worse storm system and the plane got knocked around a second time.

Once I got into Detroit, I went straight over to the luggage carousel and waited for my bags to come. And waited. And waited. And started to stress out. And even started to tear up a little (it had been a stressful, emotional week, so don't think too harshly of me). The last two (literally) bags to come around the carousel were mine, and I let out an involuntary whoop of relief to see them. Then, of course, I started laughing hysterically. Why? Because Northwest Airlines managed to destroy the very suitcase I had assumed they would be gunning for. Destroyed is actually an understatement. The damage was so bad that my bag had been completely severed around the middle, and was now in two pieces. Some thoughtful individual had wrapped it in plastic and duct tape, so only a handful of my possessions inside the bag were lost or broken. Still, I think it'll be a while before I willingly fly on Northwest Airlines again. I don't blame them for the turbulance, but the handling of my luggage was unacceptable - what'd they do, play football with it?

Next I collected Jasper, who had decided to amuse himself on the plane by shredding his puddle pads into microscopic pieces. He whined to be let out, but I had so say no, since we still had to go through customs. Of course, the man was VERY curious about the money. After listening to my explanation, he demanded to know why I hadn't declared the money on my customs form. I reminded him that as long as cash is under ten thousand dollars, it does not have to be declared. And then, finally, I ran into the welcoming arms of my mother. The Korean chapter of my life was over, and the next chapter was waiting to be written.

By the way, customs never discovered the soju.

Au Revoir, Korea

In just a few short hours, I'll be leaving Korea to return home to the USA. It seems fitting to end on a song, so here's the song I'm dedicating to Korea and my wonderful year here:

Let's say goodbye with a smile, dear,
Just for a while, dear, we must part.
Don't let the parting upset you,
I'll not forget you, sweetheart.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when,
But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day.
Keep smiling through, just like you always do,
'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.

So will you please say hello to the folks that I know,
Tell them I won't be long.
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go,
I was singing this song.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when,
But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day.

("We'll Meet Again," music and lyrics by Ross Parker and Hughie Charles)

Courage Is...

Question: What is courage?
Answer: Courage is:
1. Taking your dog to a groomer in a country in which you do not speak the language, and using charades to explain that you would like his hair trimmed.
2. Going to a hair salon in a country in which you do not speak the language, and trusting once again in charades to explain that you would like a trim and a perm. Bonus points if you want layering and a specific type of perm.

Oh, you know this is building up to a good story!

I leave Korea in exactly one week from today, so I am positively dripping with things that need to be done. Fortunately, I have been uncharacteristically productive today. I finished all my packing, with the exception of the two carry-ons, which I will finish later tonight (after dinner). Two other important tasks also had to be dealt with today: Jasper and I both needed to get our hair taken care of. Jasper was beginning to resemble a hairy Sherman tank, and I needed another perm (they're way cheaper over here) and a bit of a trim. Even the simplest of tasks take on a challenging and amusing new dimension when a language barrier is inserted!

Jasper's turn came first, since I wanted to run a few errands while he was at the groomer. I had hoped that someone at the grooming shop might have picked up a smidgen of English from either their child's hagwon or The Simpsons (yes, it's popular over here, too). Naturally, I was completely wrong.

The three employees were very friendly, and happily chortled away to me in their delightful (but for me, largely indecipherable) native tongue. I, meanwhile, put on my best "completely clueless foreigner" face and decided to make with the gestures and hope for the best. I pointed to Jasper, then to my hair, and then made little scissor motions with my fingers. All three employees laughed and nodded (with loads more cheerful conversation in Korean, which I couldn't understand, although I pretended to) and then one of the women solicitously scooped up Jasper and headed for the back room. I pointed to the clock, asked how long it would take (I do know that phrase in Hangul at least), and was answered with three fingers, which I took to mean either three hours or three o'clock. I figured the latter sounded more likely.

After leaving my adorable and beloved companion in the care of complete strangers, in a country that still considers him edible (no, I wasn't worried about that, but it does make the story a little funnier), I walked off in the direction of downtown. I wasn't sure exactly how far it was from the pet store, but I figured it couldn't be too far, and at least I knew which direction to walk in. I was wrong about distance, but correct about direction. On the positive side, I'm sure the insanely long walk in shoes that clearly were designed by someone with a vendetta against humanity was, in some small way, character building.

A wave of dizziness reminded me that I had neglected to eat breakfast, and thus had low blood sugar. Since fainting has yet to make it on the list of my top one hundred favorite pastimes, I opted to eat lunch. This being my last weekend in Korea, I chose to return to CanMore, one of my favorite little restaurants. The bagel sandwich and dalgi bing soo, consumed whilst simultaneously devouring one of Bill Bryson's books, left a lovely imprint on my subconscious. Thus fortified against a blood sugar crash, I continued with my errands.

I needed a new bag to use as a carry-on, since the duffel that I used for a second carry-on on my trip out here has become stained (and was thoroughly loathsome to haul with me the first time around). I found a perfect one for a better price than I expected, and celebrated this victory by nearly getting mowed down by a taxi driven by a man whom, I can only assume, is a paid assassin on a mission to rid Gyeongju of excess people. I almost lost a shoe jumping out of the way, and in retrospect, I should have let him have it. Both of them. Not ten minutes later I almost broke my neck tripping in those cursed shoes, and upon arrival at home this evening, I learned that the vengeful creatures blistered my feet ruthlessly.

After stops at two other stores for a few things, I noticed that it was nearly three o'clock. Ignoring the pain and protests of my feet, I walked the entire way back to the grooming shop, congratulating myself on saving the two thousand won (about $1.30) in cab fare. Yes, the current economic recession/depression (depending on which news source you read) in my country has made me CHEAP!

They were not finished grooming Jasper yet (apparently three fingers meant three hours, not three o'clock), so I entertained myself by perusing the small shop, looking for a carrier that would meet the airline standards (with no luck). A very affectionate Yorkie attempted to assist me (that is seriously one of the cutest breeds). I noted, with a small amount of concern, the rather naked poodle gazing mournfully from an enclosure near the back room. Surely they understood that I wanted Jasper's hair cut, not removed...

Nope. When the lady brought out Jasper to me, I was placed in that emotional limbo that exists between laughing hysterically and sobbing. If Jasper has been entertaining any secret desires of joining the marines, he now has the hair for it. I would never have thought it possible, but apparently, a Shih Tzu can in fact be made to look exactly like a Chihuahua. I even pondered (with great hope) the possibility that I may have been handed the wrong dog. Once I looked into the very, very sad (even he knows he looks stupid) eyes of my poor, naked Jasper, I knew with shivering certainly that I had the right dog. I am so glad that one of my errands involved buying a few clothes for Jasper - they do help to cover up a bit of the disaster that is now my dog.

Now after an experience like that, I think most people would hesitate before going about the even more difficult operation of having their own hair styled (and in a style that goes beyond basic). I figured that as long as I have Jasper with me, I can't possibly be the stupidest looking creature in the room, so I dropped my boy off at home, changed shoes, and walked another long distance over to the hair salon.

It would take too long to relate all the many creative gestures I employed to make my wishes known. A team of four Korean hair stylists circled me, listening attentively, asking questions that had no hope of being answered, and eventually, smiling and nodding (that sent a twinge of worry through me, but I swallowed hard and rallied my courage). I reminded myself that hair can always be cut, and it does always grow back.

During this second Korean perm experience (my first being a few months ago), I found myself feeling a lot like an Indy-500 car. The four stylists apparently decided to share the madly-gesturing foreigner, leading me to compare them to a pit crew. One washed my hair, another dried it, another poked it, and after having me sit for awhile, the fourth one came to trim it (I was relieved to see scissors rather than an electric razor in her hand). Next, person number one came back and painted a smelly chemical on my hair and left me to marinate for about fifteen minutes (at which point I was mentally reviewing whether they might have confused my desire for a perm with a desire to change the color of my hair). Finally, I was apparently ready. Two people inserted the curlers, and the third person came back to hook me up to a machine that reminds me of a black squid hanging from a pole.

The "squid" cooked my head for a while, until the timer informed us that I was "well done." Then there was more painting with smelly chemicals, more cooking time, a little more basting, and finally, another wash. I was scared to open my eyes, for fear of what creature might be looking back at me in the mirror. Jasper's fiasco had really unnerved me!

Finally, the crucial moment could be put off no longer, and I had to look into the mirror. Half expecting to see the next winner of a Phyllis Diller lookalike contest, I let out an audible gasp at my reflection. The hairstyle is.....exactly what I wanted! Either I'm the next charades world champion, or those hairstylists were just really clever (maybe both). Either way, it's a relief that only one creature in this apartment looks like a shrunken rat tonight.

Jasper's Coming, Too!

I actually found this out for certain the other day, but I've been a bit too busy with departure preparations to post about it.

Yes, Jasper will definitely be able to accompany me to the USA. He's traveling with the luggage, as I was worried that he would cry too much during the flight to go carry-on (plus, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't fit under the seat anymore). Tomorrow I'm taking him to the pet store to get his hair cut, and then to the vet to get his final immunization and his health certificate (to prove that he has had his rabies vaccine, without which he would be denied admittance into the USA). I also need to track down an approved style of carrier for him, and a bone large enough to keep him occupied and distracted on the long flight.

I can't believe we leave Korea in only eight days!

The Excitement that Awaits...

I am going to be so busy when I get home that I may have to schedule time just to breathe! In addition to getting to know my new car, laptop, and phone, I also have to buy a new wardrobe because I lost weight (wahoo!) in Korea. I have to get a physical for grad school. Then, there's all this other stuff...

March 31 - April 15: I take my long-anticipated solo trip to Ireland, Switzerland (just Zurich, but it still counts), and Greece. I realized yesterday that I have neglected to plan my itinerary while I'm there. Yikes! Well, add another thing to the "do immediately upon arrival in the USA" list!

Later in April: My parents are accompanying me on a one-week fact-finding mission to Virginia to choose my apartment for grad school (still no idea if I'm to be offered a TA-ship, but I've decided to commit to it anyway - I'll scrub toilets if that's what it takes to get my MA). Since that should only take a few days, we're also planning a bit of a vacation.

May 23 - May 31: My much-beloved roommate from my first two years of college is coming up to visit me. I haven't seen her since the wedding of two mutual friends, which was over a year and a half ago.

July 4: My cousin and his very sweet fiancee are getting married finally.

Mid July: My dad and I will be traveling down to Virginia to get me moved into my new lodgings for grad school.

Late July - early August: I convinced my parents (it really didn't take much persuasion) to take a trip with me to South Dakota and Montana. Which is another itinerary that I need to start planning.

August 12: I make the twelve-hour drive down to Virginia in my very cute yellow 2009 Aveo5 (can you tell I'm just a little bit excited about my new car?).

August 13: Graduate school orientation at Liberty University! I can't wait - even though I looked at my book list yesterday and almost lost all circulation in my body (what kind of sick, twisted professor requires THIRTEEN books for ONE class?!?!).

And for the rest of 2009: I will buried up to my neck (and possibly higher) in lectures, research, reading, and papers. Heaven.

I Have a Date!

Yes, at last I have a confirmed departure date! Not that I don't love Korea, but I really am eager to see my family again and to get started on all of the excitement that awaits me at home. I have a fantastic itinerary this time around; Cate let me book it myself, so I picked exactly what I wanted (and I made sure that it was still one of the cheapest flights available).

Instead of the 23-hour or more epic journey that I was dreading, I have a nice, easy 15-hour trip. Instead of hectic Chicago O'Hare, I get convenient Detroit with their fascinating new-age tunnel of strange lights and music that goes under one of the runways. Instead of a crowded aisle seat for thirteen hours, I get a lovely window seat for eleven hours. I even have a very short layover in Tokyo, so I can finally say I've been to Japan! Yessir, I am one happy traveler. And I leave in only twelve days. Yikes!

I can't believe how fast one year has gone. I knew it would pass quickly; in fact, I recall offering that same reassurance to a few friends who didn't want me to leave last year. Yet even I had no idea just how rapidly the days would melt into a year. Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of my arrival in Korea, and on March 7, I leave this enchanting land behind. I'll be saying au revoir, though, and not goodbye. I definitely plan to revisit this country again someday, hopefully with my children.

Tomorrow is my last day with my kindergartners. On Wednesday, the little cuties graduate, and move on to afternoon classes, or perhaps different academies. In honor of our last day together, I have planned a large, fun craft for each class, and will be bringing in some cookies tomorrow. They've worked me harder than all of my other classes put together, and I'll admit, sometimes I've wanted to strangle the little darlings, but I really am going to miss them. They were my hardest classes to teach, but they were also loads of fun. And no kids can give better hugs than kindergartners.

What Do a Car, a Phone, and Stephanie Have in Common?

Congratulations are in order: Yesterday, I bought a new car. I am now the very proud owner of the world's cutest yellow Aveo5. I was intending to buy a car when I got back to the States, but Dad found a deal that couldn't be passed up on the exact car that I wanted. I was hoping for something small that looked good, got great mileage, and could make room for me to haul things. The Aveo5 fits the bill, and the price suits me, too.

Since I also have to purchase a new cell phone and plan when I get back, I suggested to my parents a few months ago that we get a family plan together, figuring it would come out better for all three of us. Once again, my awesome father found a good deal, and he even found the perfect phone for me: a purple Samsung Rant. I'm telling you, this guy is really on a roll lately! I think a certain father is due for a big batch of my homemade diabetic oatmeal raisin cookies (which he's going to get just as soon as I recover from the jet lag when I get home).

Yesterday, I was proudly looking up facts about my new car online when I learned something very interesting: The 2009 Chevy Aveo5 was designed and built by a Chevy subsidiary in South Korea. In other words, my new car and I were both in South Korea at the same time! And, guess where Samsung (the maker of my phone) is from...that's right, South Korea! So, my phone, my car, and I have all spent time in South Korea. Maybe I'm just weird, but I found it pretty amusing.

In other acquisition news, I have also purchased the replacement for my Dell laptop. This laptop has been a thorn in my side for the past several months with its persistent crashing and freezing, and I finally decided that I am through with PCs. I did about six months worth of research (its the history major in me) and decided to switch to a Mac. So, yesterday I ordered my extremely cool new Macbook, which I am mentally drooling over (yeah, there's a bit of techno-geek in me - I admit it).

Dragon Stores and Women

I let the kindergartners play picture bingo yesterday, because they behaved so well for their lesson. Sam reminded me of the Muppet character "Animal" when he shouted out (as I was handing out the boards, which have pictures and words on them), "Woman! Woman! I want a woman!" (He wanted a board that had the word 'woman' on it - could we have a future playboy in our midst?)

Earlier in the lesson, we were practicing the sentence "I went to the ________." I pointed to the picture of the drugstore and asked Eddy, "Eddy, where did you go yesterday?" Eddy replied, "I went to the dragon store!"

From Heart Surgeon to Pop Singer in One Day

Last Friday (the day before Valentine's Day) was such a fun day. In the morning, we did a special Valentine's Day craft with the kindergartners: we had them color, cut, and glue the words "Be My Valentine" to a large cardboard heart, and then "sew" two cardboard hearts together with ribbon. When the kids finished "sewing," Cate and I stuffed the hearts with candy and then tied the ribbons into big bows. The craft was fun, but of course with kindergartners, there were a few mistakes that I needed to fix (thus, my brief stint as a "heart surgeon"). At one point during the craft, I noticed Jay looked sad.

"What's wrong, Jay?" I asked.
"Teacher, my heart is broken," he informed me, holding up his ripped heart. I managed not to laugh as I taped it up for him.

For the afternoon classes, I had some special things prepared. I found a really cute picture online of two ducks sharing a milkshake in a 1950's style diner, so I put the words "Happy Valentine's" on it and made it into a coloring page for the younger classes. I also made two word searches with Valentine's-themed words (aka hearts, flowers, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc.) - an easy one for the younger classes, and a harder one for the older classes. Ever since I introduced word searches to the younger kids, they have become word search addicts! They absolutely love them.

I also found two funny Valentine poems online and printed out copies for the older classes. I gave the easier poem out to the youngest advanced classes, and the harder poem to the older, and had the kids read and discuss it. Then, in my last two classes, I created a special Valentine's Day mad lib - a love letter. The results were so hilarious that I actually had tears streaming down my face (as did two of the kids).

After school, Cate took all the teachers out for dinner at a really delicious sam-gip-sal (pork) restaurant. After dinner and drinks, Cate learned that I had never been to a norebang (singing room) and insisted that we all go.

Korean singing rooms are a really neat idea. Since most Koreans love to sing, they have private rooms that you can rent for an hour or longer. In the room, there is comfortable seating, fun lighting, and a big screen TV. They bring you snacks and drinks, and then you can flip through the book and choose which songs you would like to karaoke to. While you sing, the lights do a pretty nifty lights show, and the TV plays an accompanying music video (and, of course, tells you the words to the songs). After you finish, your performance is rated on the TV! They have songs in both Korean and English (and even a few Ricky Martin songs). I did an absolutely terrible rendition of "You Can't Hurry Love," which the Supremes did much better! The highlight of the evening (and, in fact, my entire year in Korea) was hearing my dear boss Cate sing "I'm a Barbie Girl." I almost split my insides apart from laughing when she sang the words, "I'm a blond bimbo!"

Apparently, I'm a Girl

I learned something new today. Apparently, I wear jeans a lot more than I realized. And, apparently, I am indeed female (this should come as quite a relief to my mother). I wore a skirt with tights and boots to school today, and the kids' reactions were hilarious! I had no idea that they paid such close attention to my daily wardrobe. Some of my favorite comments from the day included:

"Step-anie-Teacher, you are a girl today!" (Courtesy of Sue, the most energetic girl in my E3-D class.)

"Teacher, today is skirt beautiful, boots beautiful, tights beautiful, earrings beautiful, and hair is little beautiful. Face is very beautiful." (This assessment came from Amber, one of the older kindergartners.)

"Ste-panie, we are the same today. You are big me and I am little me!" (Charming words from Anne, one of my most enchanting students. We had on similar outfits today.)

"Teacher, wow! Today is skirt-day!" (Dear Mindy, from E4-B)

"Teacher, Teacher. You have no pants today!" (Cleo, the smallest and cutest girl in E4-B - and believe me, it's hard to pick a cutest girl in that class!)

"Teacher, do you have a date after school today?" "You look very stylish today, Teacher." (Input from Rachel and Victoria, the girls in my absolutely awesome middle school class.)

As Saturday is Valentine's Day, the chocolate offerings from my students are already beginning to pile up. From my kids in E3-C (one of the most generous classes when it comes to giving me food), I got enough chocolates to make me love the entire world! I was so delighted with all the chocolate that I happily announced, "No homework today!" to the delighted shouts of the entire class (for the record, I hadn't planned to give them homework in the first place).

Although I haven't been quite myself this week (I've been fighting off exhaustion and crankiness all week for some reason), it looks like the week is ending well. I have a replacement coming soon who sounds terrific (and, interestingly enough, is also a Michigander, which means she must be great!), I've got some fun things planned for a few of my classes tomorrow, and my middle school class has spent the entire week once again proving to me that they are five of the neatest kids around. I love having an advanced class that behaves well, always does their homework, and enjoys discussions.

A common problem here is that many girls over the age of about ten suddenly seem to lose their ability to speak, which makes them quite a challenge to teach in an English class. I have four of these silent students in another class, and they drive me nuts (I once threatened to check their pulses if they didn't start speaking)! Fortunately, this is not the case with my two middle school girls. Victoria and Rachel are sweet, fun, and interesting to talk to. Yesterday I had a really good discussion going in their class about the differences between American and Korean middle schools. I learned quite a bit from them. About a month or so ago, when we were studying an article about famous places in Asia, I discovered that each student in the class had been to one Asian country that the others had not visited (Chris had been to China, Luke had been to Japan, Rachel had been to Cambodia, Jacob had been to Thailand, and Victoria and I had both been to the Philippines). We had a fantastic round-table discussion in which each student had unique insights to offer - I think it was possibly my favorite class period of my entire year in Korea.

One of my other advanced classes was quite amusing today, albeit not intentionally so. I have been assigning them quite a bit of homework this week, since they are working on a more difficult unit (it's all about Canada, so at least it's interesting). Yesterday's fill-in-the-blank homework generated some very "creative" responses. Here are a few that made me chuckle:

"There was a lawyer of dust covering the table."

"India was once a prairie of England."

"India was once a community of England."