It was Mrs. Yoon. I could barely hear her voice over the phone, due to some sort of connection problem (my phone had been doing this occasionally). I had to press the receiver into my ear and cover up my other ear to just barely make out what she was saying. She asked if I'd just called her. I asked her how she was doing and what the plan was for the day. She told me that she was not doing well at all. She said that she was very sad because she'd lost her brother over the weekend. His death was very sudden and unexpected. She told me that his funeral was later that day and that that was why she'd forgotten to call me. I had no idea what to say. There is little that one can say in English to console someone who has lost someone close to them, but it is even harder when there was a serious language barrier. I couldn't say that I was sorry, because if you were to say that to a Korean who'd lost a family member, they would think that the death was somehow partially your fault. You only apologize for things that you have control over. I finally told her that I was very sad for her and told her that I would take the bus to school that day. She seemed to object to that idea, but I told her that I could do it and that it would be for the best. I was hoping to get there a little early anyway to have some extra time to plan my lessons for the day. She finally consented and said that she would see me at school. I said goodbye and hung up, stunned at the news that I'd just heard. I had hardly began to even absorb it when the phone rang again. It was Mrs. Yoon again. She wanted to make sure that I knew what buses to get on, where to transfer, and to make sure that I knew what I was doing. She proceeded to give me instructions on what buses to take and where to get off, none of which I was able to hear because of the bad connection. We said goodbye, hung up, and once again I was stunned. I got dressed, checked Google Maps for bus routes, then ran down to the bus stop.
It took hardly any time for my bus to arrive. However, boarding the bus was a completely different story. Because it was still during the morning rush hour, the bus was jam-packed full of Koreans. I paid my 1,300 won, and was able to move about five rows down the aisle before I had to stop because of people already standing in the aisle. I grabbed onto one of the handles for people standing in the aisle and held on for dear life as the bus lurched forward.
I'd taken the same bus line into Seongnam the previous day and the experience had been quite different. Where we'd hardly pulled over at any stops the day before, it seemed like we pulled over at EVERY stop on this trip. An elderly man got on the bus at the second stop and the guy that I was hovering over offered up his seat to the man. We were able to get the old man seated after the three of us moved around like pieces of a Rubix Cube for about five minutes. There were people up front standing in the stairwell, but we still kept making stops and somehow kept squeezing more people into the bus. I kept getting pressed back against this grandmother who was carrying a baby in a harness. She said something angrily to me in Korean but there was nothing I could do. Every now and then, someone would get off the bus. I was happy when another old lady offered her seat to the grandmother with the baby. I felt bad about being squeezed up next to them.
Finally the bus arrived at Moran Station, the stop where I was to get off. Everyone else seemed to have the same idea and Koreans poured from the back door like water from a bottle. I walked down to what I thought was my bus stop, looked around, and immediately saw my bus that I was supposed to get on. I ran over to it and waited for the driver to open the door. He finally did and I started to step on, but he started speaking loudly to me in Korean and motioned for me to get off. I got off and ran back over to the stop. The bus drove off. Confused, I looked over at the bus routes for any lines that ran to Namhansanseong Station. I knew that they would at least take me in the direction of the school and could get me significantly closer, possibly even to the stop that I was supposed to get off at. I hopped on the first bus that I saw and sat down in a single seat. This bus didn't have one of the little screens that announced the stops, so I had to resort to watching for the right place. Luckily, the bus ran all the way to the stop that I was supposed to get off at and I didn't have to resort to hailing a taxi or walking a long distance.
I walked to the school from the stop and walked into the teacher's room. Jenny and Justine were already there (Justine is the name of the older teacher who told me that I'd be great friends with her daughter). Jenny and I worked together on planning our lessons (we were both teaching the same classes, just different parts of it). I found out that Sue had quit over the break because of some disagreement that could not be worked out. (It turns out that Jenny was her replacement). I was sad to hear the news about Sue, but happy that she'd been replaced by someone cool.
As requested by some of my blog followers, I took some pictures of the school before anyone arrived.
The school starts on the second floor of a building. This is the entrance. You can see the little area in the floor where you leave your shoes, (I'm pretty sure the ones in the picture are Jenny's) as well as indoor shoes that you put on when you come in.
This is the little hallway with the classrooms. There are only 6. I love it. Notice the flowers in the glass displays on the wall.
The School Banner. I like it.
Flowers in the display case.
The computer lab, where kids come to practice their speaking. Almost every class has a listening lesson on the computer before they go to the classroom.
This is Jenny sitting at my desk in the Teacher's Room. She wasn't very happy with me for taking this picture.
She was allowed to pose for this one.
I finished planning my lessons for my classes, only then to find out that I was scheduled to teach a class that was starting at about five minutes from that time. I raced to grab some materials so that I could throw a lesson together on the spot. I ran into the classroom, got one of the kids to turn the air conditioner on, greeted the kids and asked them about their weekend. They were still hesitant to speak, but not as much as they had been the week before. I started them off on a lesson and managed to keep them going for the next 40 minutes. At that point, I gave them a break to go to the bathroom, get some water, or just hang out in the classroom. I got the kids who chose to hang out to teach me some more Korean words. They really enjoyed this, and were as strict with my pronunciation of words as I was with theirs. They liked seeing me struggle with their language as much as they struggled with mine. I did, however, impress them when I placed a book on top of the laptop in the classroom and then said to them "The book is on top of the laptop" in Korean. (They actually went "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!")
Mrs. Yoon was scheduled to teach the next 40 minutes of class, but I wasn't sure when she would get in from the funeral so I started them off on the next part of the lesson. We were about 2 minutes into the lesson before there was a knock at the door. It was Mrs. Yoon. She told me that she would take over from there and that they could have a short break. I walked out into the hallway, took one look at her, and could see that she was very physically drained. I asked her how she was doing and she told me that she was very sad. I asked her if I could please teach the rest of the class for her. She asked me if I had the energy to do it (I wasn't looking great myself after not getting much sleep). I told her that I did and gave her a big, reassuring smile. She said that she would like that and thanked me. I ran back into the classroom to the surprise of the kids. They were happy that I was back, but there happiness turned to disdain when I made them pull out a list of words for a pronunciation drill. (They really hate doing these) Their pronunciation of words had improved greatly since their last day at school. They were nailing most of the consonants and adjusting very well to the vowels. I was very proud of them.
After the class was over, I went back to the office. Mrs. Yoon was in there, sitting at one of the desks. She told me that it had been a very rough weekend. She said that she hadn't eaten or slept much in the past three days and felt very distant from the world. She told me that both of her parents had died in their 80s, and so they all thought that her brother (who was 67) had several more years left in him. She also told me about how he'd tried to call her a few times in the past month, but how she'd been too busy to answer the phone. She vowed that she would not put business before her family ever again. As she put it, "Life's too short." (Couldn't have said it better myself) She then told me about Korean traditions with funerals. I'd read some about this, but did not know how much of it had changed in the past few years.
First of all, most Koreans want their deaths to take place in their home. When they die, their family keeps the body of the deceased in the house for three days. (From what I've read, the body is usually placed in a room behind a screen so that it can't really be seen) During that time period, family and friends of the deceased come to the home to pay their respects and to say goodbye. The family of the deceased act as hosts and they feed and take care of all visitors. Visitors usually give the family some amount of money to help with the costs of caring for others, and for the cost of the funeral. She said that the funeral ceremony is usually very elaborate and expensive, and is expected to be so. (She said that many families went into serious debt because of the costs of some of these funerals. It is especially bad for families who lose more than one person in a year. The money that is contributed helps pay for all of this). She said that it was tradition to bury their dead, but due to the fact that Korea is such a small country, there was really not much room left for burials, so people today are cremated. Instead, of a gravestone, they now have a memorial somewhere. She said it is tradition for the family to come visit the grave or memorial annually on the date of the person's death.
I really felt bad for Mrs. Yoon and I told her that if I could help her in any way that I would be more than willing to do it. She told me that I was very kind and that she appreciated it. It was about time to go back to teaching, so Jenny and I found classrooms for the kids, got the children into the room, and started teaching. The day went well for both of us, as we were now each teaching four 40 minute classes instead of two 80 minute classes. The kids were good and I felt like they'd learned the material well, and enjoyed the process!
After we finished, Jenny and I decided to get some food. Mrs. Yoon asked where we were going, gave Jake some money, and off we went. We wound up getting tobokki, gimbap, and soon dey (that's the name of the Korean sausage that I can't ever remember). We brought it all back to the school and took it to one of the classrooms. Justine, Jenny, Jane, Mrs. Yoon, Jake, and I all sat there eating and talking. It was nice to be able to spend good quality time with my fellow teachers and to share stories.
At the end of the day, Mrs. Yoon told me that she could take me home and seemed to really want to so I accepted her offer. She asked why I'd taken the bus, and I told her it was because of the funeral and because I wanted to know that I could do it in case I ever had to. She seemed to understand that.
They dropped me off at my apartment, and I run upstairs, changed clothes, and took off for E-Mart. I got some snacks and food there, and then walked down to the park. For some reason I now was filled with energy...good energy. I spent the next hour or so walking. I walked down into the park, down the track, and under the big bridge. The path went on for a long ways but I had no wish to stop. I felt safe, happy, and full of energy. I kept walking, even after the path stopped being paved and turned into rocks that ran alongside the river. I didn't turn back until I was waist deep in river grass and had reached a point where the path had finally disappeared in the brush. I felt like I could walk all night. The words of Mrs. Yoon rang in my ears: "Life's too short." I was happy that I was in Korea, living one of my dreams of moving to a foreign country and experiencing the people and culture of that country. I had a great little apartment for sleeping, and a foothold for exploring a completely new part of the world. That night I decided that whatever happened to me, I would not spend my single years sitting idly by while those dreams slipped further away from my grasp. I was going to savor every second of this sweet and precious thing called life...because life is, indeed, too short.
I walked home, arms still full from E-Mart, with a smile on my face while I continued to count my blessings. I had no trouble sleeping that night and was eager to wake up again to start another day in Korea.
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