He's Back

We had an unusual warm winter Saturday. I went out to play some ball on my own, but the courts are usually a setting for some kind of adventure. Sure enough, I found a game. Three Korean men were shooting around with me. They didn't speak English and I was too hungover to try and speak Korean. (That happens sometimes, it's hard work). One of the guys was pretty good and after he took me to the whole twice in a row, I had to turn on my game. I went to work, dissected their fundamental games and got the W. Then they asked me to pose for a group picture. Of course. Then one pic turned into 5. We said our goodbyes and I started shooting by myself again. I had that feeling of being watched and I saw them taking pictures of me playing from across the park. So I started to put on a show, make it worth their memory space. They came back to the court and set up all around me for close-ups of my playing. Then one guy starts directing me in Korean about where to pose and what shot to do. This was hilarious. It was a real photo-shoot. Man that's a strange feeling, and I didn't even get paid for it. I did some 360s, a few under the leg layups, and some reverses and sent them home happy. I'm thinking these shots may wind up on some Korean basketball magazine ssomewhere. Headline: White Alien Can Play

One More Time

I write, the bearer of good or bad news depending on what you demand from your friends. Earlier this week, I re-signed at Swaton. I was provoked by a raise, a 3 week vacation, a gym membership and the desire to see how these children can improve in 2 years. I looked for a better opportunity; a school with more vacation time. Nothing out-weighted Swaton and my now comfortable life. At least they don't have a show called, "Dancing with the Stars," here in Korea. The most difficult part of the negotiations was getting suitable time off to return home. It took a year, but the longings for home have got me feeling overly nostalgic. I am now one of those people who talk about themselves too much, finding a way to piece past into seemingly irrelevant conversations. When I'm stuck thinking about the things I want to do in America, I'm usually brought back to the present by my students, my children. I've shared one of their most formidable years. 12 months ago, I taught them how to sit up straight and hold a pencil and now I'm busy preparing them for a play where they will discuss, in a second language, what to do with ailments like a stomach ache, an itch and dizziness. Plus, I know how quickly this year went by and how soon it will be summer and I'll be coming home to remember why I miss a place that has a TV program called, "Skating with the Stars." America, are you serious?

Where do we go now?

As some of you may know, my contract ends in about a month. I've been thinking a lot lately about what moves to make next. I've decided I need to stay in Korea and keep the ball moving. Teaching is the ideal profession, the money is nice, I've made a good group of friends and I'm comfortable in this country. But I still don't know where I'll be working next year. I applied for a position at Pusan National University, one of Korea's finest universities and I was real close to getting the job. I had an interview and I did well, but my lack of teaching experience was too much to overcome. Over here, my degree in English puts me in the upper-level of teachers here, but it's not quite enough to land a prime university job. I was disappointed when I read the email saying I didn't get the job, but there are still endless doors open to me here. With the uncertanty of other jobs, I'm leaning towrads resigning at my school where the schedule is comfortable and the school is respectable. The only problem with my hagwan is the lack of time to go home. I miss it all and I need to come home for longer than the week I have off in summer. I will try to negotiate some decent time off wherever I go. This is going to be a big week for me. By the end of this week, I will have the next year planned.

Life as a beach Bum..

I've put off writing about this vacation because I know I can't describe the feeling Boracay gave me. Within a few hours there, I wasn't myself. I had this all-encompassing feeling of content and ease. No worries, like the Californians say. But it's more than a phrase, it's the truth. It didn't matter what or when we eat, drank, slept- it's all OK. I left my brain on the plane. Arriving in Manilla, the capital of Philippines, we were greeted by a man holding up a sign with my name on it. There's another life goal I've acheived over here. I thought you had to be much older and more distinguished to have your name on a waiting sign. Manilla was scary. Poverty like I've never seen before, crowds of people not appearing to be going anywhere. The airport had a 'Firearms drop-off box.' This was the first of many we'd see. Children running around with guns, shots ringing through sultry December nights, sand in your every cavity (some still remains lost in my scalp), stars painted right above me in the sky just for our island eyes (I drank out of the big dipper) and through all these unfamiliar sights and sounds of paradise, people were simply floating. Ok, so the poverty was alarming at first, but that was hidden once we got to Boracay. First, we had to fly on a 14 person jet where the pilot actually came back and gave us our safety instructions. Then we were driven on a two-wheeler taxi to the little ferry that took us to the island. Approaching the ferry, a small Filipino asked if he could carry something, I said sure and gave him my shoes and socks. He then gave them back to me and picked up a 6'4 Korean behind me on his shoulders and carried him onto the boat. No Worries! For the first time in my life, I was rich. There was always the divide between us and the Filipinos we met. We were alike in our passions, language, tastes but Darryl and I had more money in our pockets than they make in a month. That we could never overcome, just ignore and pay for everything. We spent every Peso we had but we wished we had more just to give to the kind bracelet/jersey/watch/sunglasses venders on the island. They were constantly selling us, but I never felt hassled. I stood on 4 islands, played basketball with little children on rubble courts, fell asleep on white sand and drank for seven days without the slightest hint of a hangover. And they had all the food I'd been missing here. Steak, and ribs, and tacos mmmmmmmm.......Ok, it's time for dinner, maybe I'll do more of this later. I'm back in the teaching groove, but I've been getting over a fever/food poisoning. The Philippines gloated about it being a "Bird Flu Free Zone." I might just be heartsick, longing for that week of no cares.