When weekends were weekends

To all those I miss,
Today is Monday and we had off work for Korean Memorial Day. Three day weekends are always a blessing, but nowadays they are hardly a means for relaxation. An extra day just means more I can pack into my free time. Ah, we'll rest when we die, right? As you can see from the pictures I scaled a picturesque mountain. The mohawk is now gone; my co-workers were trying to persuade me to bring the 'hawk' to Swaton and they were all confident it would go over well. Still, I'm confident as a teacher these days, but not that much. The weather calls for a shaved head and it feels good, but I really hate looking like a soldier. Anyways, the weekend was physically demanding but, even more, it was mentally exhausting. Last Saturday, I was embarrassed in my Korean class because the teacher presented us with new material and, without the time to prepare, I just can't keep up with the others. They all understand this and don't expect me to, but it's still frustrating. All the others in my class go twice a week while I cannot because of my teaching schedule. Also, they are all women married to Korean men and have been living here for numerous years. I'm at a major disadvantage, but I try not to use that as an excuse. But, fearing that I might again slow down the class, I decided to gather up some of the Korean teachers Friday night spend an evening speaking only Korean. I was able to hold my own and communicate the necessities. It was nice because, whenever I speak to a Korean, they are constantly praising my ability and shocked at how quickly I'm learning. I need these affirmations because, in class, I'm noticeably the worst. During our discussions Friday night, my Korean friends were telling me how Koreans use titles to refer to one another. I'd noticed how, at school, instead of saying individual names, we are all called "sun sang niem" (teacher). Rosa, one of only two Swaton employees younger than me, told me that, because I'm older than her, it's proper for her to refer to me as "opa" (older brother). I couldn't get enough of that. I began to sing, "I love it when you call me big Opa." I'm so used to being young here that being called an older brother is a strange, but welcomed change. In return, I must call the older Korean teachers "nuna" (older sister). I believe the "No English Night" did me well, perhaps just because I attacked class with more confidence than normal, but I kept pace. The Hongul didn't stop there. Yesterday, on the climb, we once again implemented a No English rule. Ryan, the other forienger in the pictures, is probably the only foreigner in Korea who speaks better Korean than me so it was nice to hear his progress. He's the one who set me up with the classes and he's a level ahead of me, but, listening to him, I know what is possible. After the climb, we went out drinking and again tried to limit the English as much as possible. Today I went to play basketball and two guys wanted to play me. As usual, I mopped up the court with them, but this time, I was able to talk a little Hongul trash. Hahahah. I never envisioned schooling a couple Asians at basketball and talking trash in their language, but it sure is fun. All this and tonight, I realized my brain is automatically thinking in Hongul. So much that I think my English is suffering. Because my Hongul is limited, I try to say things in the most simple manner and that's exactly what I'm trying to get away from in English conversation. I need to find a balance, but it's difficult when what I teach is "father is in the house" and "I go to school by bus." Actually, I've noticed that the phrases I'm teaching are many times the exact same things I'm learning in my Hongul class. Another confidence booster that, as basic as this stuff is, I'm at pace with children who have been studying English for years. I need to have an all English dream and wake up thinking in my native language. Hongul ma orio ni ka, nay morree apoyo. (Korean is a difficult language and my head hurts).