Friday 31 December 2004

Christmas

It's New Years Eve now, and various plans are afoot, but let's pull time back a week to Christmas Eve, when the magic of the festive period neared the climax of its sublime spell.

I'd a great Christmas, one of my best actually. My Christmasses have usually been pretty good, and all my childhood ones have blurred into one giant Christmas whereby I'd wake with great excitement at 2am and be unable to sleep again as I anticipated the clock changing to 6/7am (can't quite remember now). The very second that time arrived, a simultaneous stampede of myself, my brother and my sister would blaze a trail into the living room, where a roomful of gift-wrapped boxes lay clustered around three fireplace stockings. An empty glass of whisky and a saucer with a few crumbs of cake sat there also.

With great restraint we waited the extra minute it took our tired parents to get down the stairs, and then we could begin the manic frenzy of tearing paper and opening gifts to shrieks of amazed delight that Santa/mum+dad (whoever was believed in at the time) has got just what we wanted, even though for three months preceding the day our demands had been made most explicity clear.

That's the blur of childhood Christmasses, and I'm quite sure it's been partly fictionalised in my aging mind, possibly contaminated by idealist television images. However, there's no doubt that these were good Christmasses, with everyone in good spirits, kind of good health (i.e. not dead or lost their minds), and the excitement of Christmas still fresh in my youthful innocence, before the dark hand of maturity cast its icy shadow over my naive joy.

Teenage and early 20 Christmasses seemed to involve eating chocolate until I felt sick, this feeling often encouraged by alcohol. Not as magical, but still cosy and festive feeling. I'm sure there were at least a couple of white Christmasses, one of which fell overnight. During this time, however, my poor grandfather did manage to vomit on the Christmas lunch two years running.

Two years ago was one of my best Christmasses, when I was living in the castle. Mum and Morag stayed for a couple of days, and for these days in the very very remote coastal countryside surroundings of the castle, with just the three of us, we had absolute peace and serenity. With beautiful cliffs and sea stretching out panoramically from our atmospheric accommodation and no outside influences to disturb us, it really was the epitomy of tranquil. We ate and drank a little, opened gifts round a miniature Christmas tree, watched TV by the coal fire, and even made a daring expedition to a nearby abandoned house to gather more coal from an old, wet pile nestled by its side. It was the first Christmas I'd not spent at the family home, and it was a big success.

Last Christmas was pretty dreadful though. A total non-event. I'd only been in Korea a few weeks, and chose on Christmas Eve to go out and drink heavily. So heavily, in fact, that I have virtually no memory of that night, except for there being loads and loads of people, and being photographed with a fat girl. I woke up the next day (alone, mercifully) at about 2pm, feeling like a ghastly version of hell, and spent most of the day slumping around my shabby, tiny room, as traffic zoomed by noisily outside. In the evening I met up with Matt and some others, whom I didn't know too well, and drank a little in a bar, then went back to someone's apartment and played a boring game of charades (a game I have no fond memories of from any point in my existence). It was certainly my crappest Christmas.

But this Christmas was great, one of my best in fact.

I was working on Christmas Eve, and after another 43 class week was feeling quite burnt out and jaded by the time I finished, at 7pm. I had no big intentions for the night, but was quite sure I would not be drinking heavily, and thus tarnishing another Christmas day. Instead, my plan was to meet Matt downtown, not to drink, but to go to a DVD Bang, and watch "Love, Actually" together for the third time. "Love, Actually" is our film, as we first saw it in Seoul a year ago, during a mayhem-filled weekend that we have never quite recovered from. Matt has gone as far to have bought the soundtrack, which he listens to - and enjoys - regularly. We have our own song together too, which I think I've said before, not from the soundtrack but by 15 year old Russian lesbians T.A.T.U.

Anyway, it seemed particularly festive and fitting to see this film, making for a gentle Christmas Eve, and setting us up for a more busy, if not ever frantic, Christmas Day.

Christmas Day came in two parts. "Part 1: Lunch" was saving orphans. "Part 2: Dinner" involved spending extravagant amounts of money in an expensive hotel.

For lunch, a guy called Brian involved with the orphanage and working at the K2 airbase had arranged for all the Haean orphans to get into the airbase for a free, US-style, Christmas lunch. Accompanying the starving orphans were well-fed Western volunteers such as myself and Matt, who quite fancied a large free lunch.

In fact, I've put in some good time at the orphanage, so feel my free lunch was earned. I patted some orphans on the head too, so I'm sure they felt loved on this special day. Matt, however, has only been to the orphanage once before, so was just being a freeloader.

It was good fun, not just the lunch but the whole experience. The security round the US military base wasn't too high, as myself and Matt simply sat in a car and were driven in, after a short wait, without ever showing ID. We found this quite surprising, given the usual US paranoia. Possibly the coloured alert had been downgraded to "blue - only medium threat of explosions".

We were treated to a generous lunch of various meats, including turkey of course, and I sat with three orphans and watched them tuck into their only meal of the month not salvaged from the bins. Actually, these orphans are fed perfectly well so don't worry. They're all pretty normal children, not the shaven headed shaking Romanian infants popularised by the media.

This was followed a venture outside, where Santa appeared in a large tank-like military vehicle - far more efficent than reindeers - and led into the base's bar/entertainment centre. The kids gathered round a stage where Santa, accompanied by translator, handed out gifts to each and every orphan. It felt very Christmassy.

After this, me and Matt and to shoot off to Busan, where we were to meet with Noel and Sue at the 4 star Westin Chosun hotel situated by the beach. Noel and Sue are friends of Matt's whom I'd only met briefly, but we'd always got on well. Noel is a tall, laid back Irish guy with unkempt hair and infrequent shaving habits, and Sue is a very glamourous Korean girl, her glamour at first quite intimidating and almost harsh until you speak to her and find a thoroughly pleasant a gentle girl. Noel and Sue are married, in fact, quite recently. Just a legal ceremony, although they are planning the proper ceremony at some approppriate time in the future.

We checked in and relaxed in our calming room for a while, and felt hunger rise in our greedy bellies. Noel and Sue, who had booked more expensive rooms, had been accessing the free buffet and bar forbidden to commoners like me and Matt, but met us (somewhat tipsy) after 8pm and joined us for dinner.

The main restaurant was all booked out, but this didn't matter as the bar restaurant was still very swanky and we were given a seat overlooking the beach. The food was sufficiently expensive and I splashed out on some wine too. After the meal, my body felt soothed and warm, as though stroked all over by a pretty woman.

We moved onto the proper section of the bar then, where drinkers were hard drinking and Bulgarian singers were singing Western pop hits onstage. I bought the most expensive beer of my entire life, a pint of Sapporo, costing me the equivalent of over £8. Although alarmed by the steepness of the cost, I remained entirely calm and unphased, as befits a patron of an expensive hotel.

I did stick to the cheap, local, beer after that though.

We drank, and chatted, and made merry, and later took a brisk walk along the beach. Our day ended sometime between 2 and 3am, with everyone thoroughly satisfied by a thoroughly interesting and enjoyable Christmas.

Boxing Day - or St. Stephen's Day as I discovered the Irish call it - was fine. We ate very well at an Indian restaurant, and I arrived back in Daegu by about 8pm.

And that was Christmas 2004. In the next few days I hope to catch up with the rest of the week, which have involved finishing work, moving house, and being a charming young man.

Wednesday 29 December 2004

Finished

I finished my job yesterday and have now moved in with Matt, and will be replacing him at his job next month. I'm already feeling much fresher and more relaxed, and have no excuse not to write more fully from now on, although I'll endeavour to find some.

I had a great Christmas too, spent saving orphans and spending loads of money in luxury hotels.

Much more later. I've got to go and have dinner with a beautiful Korean girl now.

Tuesday 21 December 2004

Jason And A New Job

I've got a new job then, starting at the very end of February. More on that later, but for my job I have to give thanks to Jason.

I possibly mentioned him at the very start of my diary but you won't have heard of him since. "Jason" is the English name of my recruiter, and has actually been quite a large influence of my life in Korea. Not in my daily life, but it was him who got me my current job, him who got me my next job and, perhaps even more crucially, him who introduced me to Matt.

Matt these days is pretty much my only male friend. Not through design, but I seem to have aligned myself with quite a lot of attractive girls, Korean or otherwise. Matt is my bastion of maleness and was also the very first person I met in Korea, just over a year ago, when Jason (his recruiter too) got him to meet me from the bus stop. Myself and Matt spend many an hour musing as to how our lives would have progressed had we not met each other, and we usually conclude that it doesn't bear thinking about. We even have our own song - "Not Gonna Stop Us" by the 15 year old Russian lesbians TATU.

So Jason is responsible, in part, for where I am and who I know, but until last week he was just a forgotten part of last year. But knowing my contract here was almost up, he phoned me last Tuesday wondering about my plans. Not out of concern for my wellbeing of course (recruiters are notoriously unconcerned about teacher well-being; we're just a commodity) but to see if he could get me a new job, and thus net himself about a million won (£500) of very easy recruiting fee from the school.

I met him on Saturday then, after my YMCA class. It was the final YMCA lesson of the year and of the current course, concluding with a test and then pizza. The test was very easy, not just my own arrogant opinion, but it really was far too easy. The class has got much better in the last few weeks though, because the class numbers have dropped to about six regulars, and thus all the dregs have been shaken out of the class. It meant we had a pleasant group of good students left, many of whom are giving me a run for my money.

The Japanese single mother [later note - not true, she simply had a beloved pet dog], Yuka, is probably better than me now. She's got really good. Then there's Canadian Sherry and NZ Dave who are both almost as good. Sherry is quite pretty but could benefit from wearing some make-up in my opinion, and being Canadian I'm not able to get on with her due to my prejudice against Canadians. She does study very hard though. She wears dungarees too, something that suits only lesbians. Dave is a thoroughly nice guy, and myself and Maebh (who also attends the class) want to befriend him. Dave has a Korean fiance whose father has cut her off completely because she is engaged to a Westerner, even though he's never met Dave.

There's another Japanese girl too - Kaori - who is often too shy to show how good her Korean might be, and there's an Australian too, Luigi, with an accent that does extremely odd things to the Korean language. Then there's Maebh too, as I said.

After the very easy test all the four YMCA classes got together for a party. As it was noon at a Christian organisation you might correctly guess that this party was not a depraved orgy of debauchery with dancing girls and oiled up maniacs squeezing out their juices, but a civilised affair with pizza and cola.

Still, although civilised, I did my best to be charming and gentlemanly. I was called a gentleman by Hyo-Ju (the primary gin girl) on Sunday actually. She said that British men are all gentlemen and, understandably surprised, I asked how many she knew and she said "you." This is what happens, I suppose, when you know a girl for over six months and don't attempt to sexually molest her. You live and learn.

The two lucky recipients of my charms - both of whom are probably still scrubbing themselves in the shower today - were my old Korean teacher when I was a mere beginner, and a girl from Uzbekistan. My old Korean teacher is a tall and delightfully innocent-seeming girl with clunky glasses that won many admiring glances from myself and Tim "back in the day" of the first Korean class. It's been many months since I'd seen her and I think she's had sex in the interim, because she was looking far more "dangerous". Wearing glasses and dressed in black, with her hair combed back, her eyes looked less wide and innocent to the world. Her excuse for her prolonged absence was just that she'd been busy, however. She'll be my teacher for the next two months.

The Uzbekistan girl was lovely. Although I harbour great dreams of penetrating her, I actually want to use her Russian speaking ability. I still want to go to Russia after Korea and so want to know some Russian, and so I intend to ask her to help tutor me. Apparently, as Maebh told me later, she is only 19 years old and so is also just ripe for corruption.

Anyway all this was a prelude to meeting Jason at 1.30pm outside the YMCA. He arrived only a little late, running and calling my name.

Jason, there is no other way about it, is a seedy, selfish, single-minded, cheating, lying, two-faced little man. He was looking shorter than I remember, fatter too, and more ragged, and with thinning hair. Despite all this, I nonetheless like him. He's motivated and very gregarious, and exists in his very own focussed world of making money and womanising, and is absolutely foreign to the concept of thinking of others. It simply doesn't cross his mind.

Matt knows him much better than me. Matt knows about his unsuspecting (possibly uncaring) wife, Matt knows about his penchant for callgirls, Matt knows that his desire for money above all is actually a desire for more callgirls/"girlfriends" above all. Matt knows that there is no reasoning with Jason about anything, you either accept him or not and then prepare yourself to be caught up in his whirlwind.

He took me to a Burger King, where Matt soon joined. I'd been speaking to Matt the few days before, and so we knew what Jason proposed deal was. It is this:

Matt finishes his job mid-January. Then he goes travelling round Europe for a month, seeing perpetually unofficial girlfriend Rebecca in Ireland in the process, before returning to a new job in Korea. This job looks to be at Jason's school in the countryside, where Matt's cousin Nicky used to work. This would be great, as it would mean access to country dwellings during the summer.

And with Matt's old job vacant, I quite simply step into his shoes. This is a good thing as Matt's job is really quite easy. Matt wouldn't be leaving it, if not for him needing to take a month away.

The hours are 3.30-9.30pm. My current hours are 10am-7pm.
It is only 5 classes a day, 25 a week. My current is 8/9 a day, 43 a week.
Matt's apartment is much nicer than mine. Bigger and more peaceful. It's also near a university which means a good variety of bars and restaurants.

Jason seemed most pleased that everything was working out so easily, and the pieces of the jigsaw fitted just as well for myself and Matt. Jason's excitement grew as he proposed, nay demanded, that in celebration we would all, in January, visit his favourite room salon.

After a year in Korea, I have no idea what the term "room salon" used to mean to me, but here the meaning isn't too ambiguous. Prostitution in Korea is illegal but, most bizarrely, if another product is being sold then sex is allowed to be sold on the side. Thus there's quite an industry of coffee-girls, pretty young things than zip about on mopeds to home deliver coffee plus a few extra perks. And room salons are no more than glorified bar-cum-brothels, or so I hear. Slightly plusher perhaps, and more respectable for the middle aged Korean businessman to visit (which they do with incredible frequency).

Jason was bouncing with excitement as he declared this wonderful idea, which is to take place in January. Although Jason's intentions are most clear, Matt assures me that it is quite acceptable to just have a few drinks at these venues and not have to worry about being mounted by hordes of these pretty young things.

From prospective brothel visits to a visit to the orphanage, as that was what followed the meeting with Jason. With more volunteers and more organisation, it's all much easier now and once again I felt as though I achieve some teaching.

Next Saturday, which is Christmas day, I will be spending lunch time with the orphans. Now, don't be getting any ideas that this is a kind, self-sacrificing and selfless thing to do, it's because the meal is at the US Army Base and is free. The US Army, not known for understatements, will apparently have a colossal spread of Christmas food that I can tuck into like a barbarian. I'll try and avoid to speaking to the orphans as much as I can and concentrate on cramming my greedy pig face with free food. After that, me and Matt are planning to spend the night in Busan, at an expensive hotel which apparently has an all you can eat and all you can drink buffet. Thus it is quite clear that if by Sunday morning I haven't evacuated the largest chunk of faecal matter you have ever seen, then I'll likely be dead.

That was my Saturday then. Sunday was a little more serene. I met with Suk-jeong in the afternoon, that's the pretty Korean ex-teacher with body and breasts that make me dribble in her presence. I'd not seen her for about a month, since my braindead showing at the Geoje-do trip with her friends. But on Friday night, the Castle School teachers all got together and drank, ate and made merry, and she joined us. We went to a norae-bang, where I was forced to sing a couple of Korean songs, and also "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana, which I did remarkably well. Or so I lead myself to believe.

It was nice to see her again, but I stress "see", as there's more personality and life to the ants - and now cockroaches - that patrol my crappy apartment. Actually, that's rather harsh, she's a very pleasant girl and at least she doesn't crawl into my food and die.

The evening was a bowling trip with the Gin Girls, plus Maebh, plus Jama and three Korean friends of hers. These Korean friends were very loud and boisterous and scared the poor, quiet, conservative Gin Girls a little. The bowling trip had been something planned for quite some time but only finally arranged after ridiculous amounts of "you know, it would be great to go bowling sometime". Unfortunately, there was no bar at the bowling venue and thus my bowling suffered. It was also hampered severely by the Gin Girls and Maebh laughing every time I bowled, due to my apparent "bowling waddle".

I went for dinner with the Gin Girls afterwards, and if I've been sounding a little pervy earlier in this entry then you can be assured I always redeem myself in their presence with my exemplary behaviour - indeed, it was over dinner that Hyo-Ju complimented my gentlemanliness.

On the way back home with Hyo-Ju, after taking the bus back to Bangchon (our area), she happened to notice her mother in a small restaurant, and so we joined them. With two other women - one the owner - they were drinking crap wine, and may be have been slightly sozzled. They were most enamoured with my presence and my few paltry words of Korean. And for about half an hour, we sat and chatted, drank wine and laughed, and it was perhaps the highlight of my whole Sunday. Nay weekend. All that time with nubile young ladies, but together with three sozzled middle-aged women - ajummas as they're notoriously known in Korean - was the highlight. I was most charming with them. It seems an unfortunate reality in my life that my charms are most effective with middle-aged to elderly women.

It's Tuesday now, and the countdown to my last day (which began a long time ago) is nearing the climax. Six more working days to go, and then I'm away. I told some of my classes, and they responded in quite a touching manner. Mostly, at least. Some kids seemed relieved, but one class reacted as though I'd booted them all in the stomach, and cried out "No" and seemed quite distressed. You have to wonder why, as the highlight of any lesson for me is getting a kid to cry, and I try to avoid playing games at all costs.

Ok, I must go now as all the lights in my school are out, I'm the only person here, I just had to converse in very broken Korean with a mother who appeared with gifts, and I'm very hungry. Have a good Christmas and New Year, and at the rate I update these days I may extend that to Christmas and New Year 2005 too.

Sunday 12 December 2004

Brief Plans

Hmm. There are all sorts of little anecdotes and stories I'd like to share, if I could be bothered. But I'll restrict myself to the important stuff.

I finish my contract in two weeks and then go to Japan for a few days, the return flight paid for by my school for reasons that aren't entirely clear. I'll stay at Matt's for January and likely will go with him to Taiwan for a couple of weeks. In February my brother visits for a month. I may or may not have a job then - I intend to stay in Daegu.

My life recently has been quite pleasant - I'm much better after my week's holiday, before which I was rather burned out. I've become much more social too, and have caught up with many friends.

I've also realised that I've only got one male friend in all of Daegu - Matt. Not by design, but all my other friends are ladies, and mostly quite attractive ones. I'm not too upset about this lack of male companionship however. Matt and I agree that we are the only male friends a man could ever need.

I finish at my school in a couple of weeks then, just after Christmas. I will do my very best to avoid wearing the Santa costume this year, having paid my dues last year. Worse, though, is the carol singing the teacher have got to do on Christmas Eve, after school, on the other side of the city, in the freezing cold. Apparently a Santa costume is being readied for that. I will certainly not be wearing it.

Monday 6 December 2004

I Am Married

I think some congratulations are in order. To myself, on my marriage.

Yes, it seems that I am now married, so so an apparent rumour back in Aberdeen would have it. The first I heard of it was a few weeks ago, getting an email (which I haven't replied to yet) expressing surprise at my marriage. Then on the phone yesterday, my brother said he'd been asked about it too, and it seems that a few months ago, when exceptionally drunk, my brother had started telling people I'd got married to a Taiwanese girl.

So, although I've been dreadful with updating this diary and writing emails, it seems that I've got a great excuse, as I settle down with my delightful, if fictional bride.

Wednesday 24 November 2004

Making My Mark

After 11 months and 2 weeks in Korea, I have finally made my mark.

Last night I managed to get the 14th highest score on Tetris at the downtown arcades, and my name is thus etched there for the foreseeable future.

Tuesday 23 November 2004

Being A Spastic

I'm feeling good today.

I've been feeling good for the last few days, but each day has got better. This is in stark contrast to the last few weeks where I've been feeling anything but good. In fact, last week was possibly my worst week in Korea to date.

It was burn out. I'm on holiday and am feeling supremely relaxed and back to the Nev we know and love. I'm recharging after a period of being completely drained. Not just physically tired, which I can take, but completely drained and devoid of thought or inspiration. Don't worry, it was never a big problem because I knew I just needed a holiday, but up until my holiday started I'd become like an automaton, like a shell. I wasn't looking forward to anything, and was poor company forced to go out socially.

It peaked the weekend before last. That was when I went to Geoje-do (a pretty island off the south coast) with Suk-jeong and her friends. There were about 12 friends in all, but none spoke anything but patchy English. On the Saturday night we stayed at a large hotel, the 12 of us renting out one large room to share. That night was quite fun, as we sat round, ate food, drank soju, and laughed and chatted. I wasn't on great form and my Korean was dreadful, but after some drinks it didn't really matter.

But the Sunday was hell. It started with waking on the floor, nauseus and with a pounding headache. Bodies were all around me. I struggled to my feet and found a seat as the bodies awoke. The nausea and headache subsided a little, but left behind a spastic of a man. For that day (and hopefully that day only), I was a complete spastic.

I had nothing. Nothing in me at all. Not a word to say, in English or Korean. I felt mentally dead, and all I wanted to do for the entire day was to go home. But I was with three carloads of Koreans, all very lovely people, and an alternative day was planned.

We started with a drive to a rocky beach. This drive took us along scenic roads that twisted and turned, and had there been any life in me I would have revelled in the marvellous view of sea and mountains. But the only thing in me was my breakfast, and not for much longer. As nausea crept up inside me, and my stomach slowly climbed to my mouth, my thoughts became focussed only on not spraying the car with my morning's digestions. This I mercifully managed, but only just. The car came to a halt, and I managed to fight my way ou of the car before vomitting in front of my Korean friends.

I felt better after that, physically. But mentally I was as spastic as ever. It was horrible actually, really horrible. Not only had I forgotten all the Korean I knew, but I'd forgotten how to make any conversation anyway.

So the day took us to some lovely scenes, a couple of rocky beaches, and an interesting POW camp/museum but it all washed through me. We got back to Daegu at 11pm and I collapsed at home a pathetic wreck. All last week at work I was a shell, just going through the motions.

I'd just been overdoing it. Monday to Friday is dominated by work, and slowly has been draining me. Plus, I'm studying Korean hard each morning for a couple of hours. My apartment is next to a very busy, loud road so I never get any peace. And it all caught up with me. The last few weekend I was perpetually tired and never particularly keen to meet people socially as it just drained me more.

But the solution was my holiday, which I was eagerly looking forward to and which I'm very much enjoying. On Saturday I locked myself in my room and spent the entire day cleaning, naked. My room is now spotless. I think it is the first time in my life I've spent a full 24 hours naked.

On Sunday I met with the Gin Girls, then met with Matt and Rebecca and went to Busan. We stayed in a love motel, which are always rather luxurious, if slightly seedy. This one had a vending machine with vibrators. As always, the rooms come with complementary condoms and tissues by the bedside. But they always have massive widescreen TVs, a DVD player and a computer with internet, and are spacious and comfortable. We went out to eat at an Indian restaurant, which was divine. Indian food, Western style, which I've not tasted in over a year. Expensive but none of us cared.

Yesterday I returned to Daegu and had coffee in the afternoon, relaxed, then met Maebh and Eileen in the evening. I've not seen them in a while. We ate shabu-shabu (or something) which was delicious. I was back to good form too, and we regaled one another with amusing stories and interesting chat.

Today I've been feeling especially relaxed. I had a leisurely morning before going downtown to drink coffee. Later I'm meeting Jamaleh for a meal. She's the attractive American, but ethnically Korean an adopted at birth, who is also Bahai (a religion). She doesn't drink however, so I suppose I'll have to drop the Rohypnol in her tea.

The next few days will continue leisurely, then on Friday is my birthday. It's back to work on Monday but I've only a month left after that before finishing my contract.

It's good to feel human again.

Monday 8 November 2004

Weary, Tired Weekend

It was a bit of a sub-par weekend, and I'm still feeling pretty sub-par now. By no means dying, but just feeling generally run-down and with a slightly sore ulcer on my tongue making it a little sore to speak loudly.

The whole weekend I was tired, and I've not yet shaken it off today. I definitely need my holiday, just a couple of weeks away.

Anyway, Friday was the best day of the weekend. I met with Matt, Rebecca and some American girl called Leila. This girl was very pleasant, but a little loud and very analytical and perpetually trying to take the conversation down serious paths. Me and Matt had none of this, so whenever she tried to discuss art, politics, emotions, or any issue, we'd immediately start talking about dwarfs, transexuals, how many fish we thought we could carry, and Matt's claim that his mother was black. This girl seemed a little taken aback by some of our banter, although she enjoyed our continual references to the deep love we share for each other, but by the end of the evening I think she just reckoned I was mental.

Anyway, although I only had a few drinks that night, on Saturday I was ruined the whole day. I don't think it was being hungover, just knackered in general. I made it to my Korean class but had a nagging headache and heavy eyes. Then, after, I met with Suk-jeong so I could stare at her breasts and lips while pretending to make conversation. This actually went quite well, even though I felt dreadful, and we sat at a coffeeshop for a few hours. Next week is the island of Geoje-do, where I intend to ruin her honour.

That evening I met with Matt and Rebecca - who are my staple friends - and saw a film/movie with them at a DVD Bang. Matt was feeling as shattered as me so we needed something very undemanding, and we chose "Steve Irwin: Crocodile Hunter". This was absolute nonsense but very enjoyable indeed.

Yesterday I had a generally bad day. It was one of these days where everybody seemed to be getting in my way, and kids would say "hello!" in a cheeky way behind my back which hardly ever happens these days. One early teenage boy, in a group, swore at me in English behind my back too. I marooned myself in my apartment in the afternoon, after doing some shopping, felt generally lacklustre. In the evening I met Matt and Rebecca again and was very irritable. We saw another film, Resident Evil 2. It is a very deep and complex film.

I'm on better form today, although Monday is my worst day for teaching. It has my two worst classes at the end of the day: M6 and M7. I can deal with them, but because they are my 8th and 9th classes respectively, I'm usually pretty tired and find it very wearing. Today also, M7 start a story featuring a black kid which I know they will make silly comments about. Korea isn't very enlightened racially. Not neo-Nazi hatred, but sometimes a little insular and ignorant. I expect a battle with M7 today.

I am very much looking forward to my week's holiday.

Thursday 4 November 2004

Open House Finishes

Well the last "Open House" class finished today and went very well. It was Cosmos, always rambunctious and enthusiastic, which translated very well to the rehearsed Open House class with their mothers watching (one father today too).

Even better was yesterday gym lesson with Forest, the class I'd most dreaded. With their mothers present and with the change in routine they were much more subdued. David had to teach them first and said they were dead. But by the time I got them for gym, they had relaxed a little and so were suitably lively while still easily kept in order. I ran a specially disciplined gym lesson and it went without a hitch.

So, all four Open House classes went almost perfectly. The small bit of pressure beforehand was worth it, because now in the afterglow I feel as though I passed a test.

Also going well is my Korean. This last week it has taken a definite upswing. I go through phases but I'm finding conversation easier and easier. Oh, it's still very limited, but more and more I can say roughly what I want, and faster. Korean word order is making sense now and is beginning to allow me to more easily incorporate the fairly good vocabulary I have. Although I don't expect to leave Korea being fluent, I think in a year's time I can hopefully classify myself as competent.

I had a meal with the Gin Girls last night too. They've certainly been a key factor to my learning, as they are always more happy to let me talk away in Korean than in English. We went to a typically Korean restuarant (i.e. low tables, sit on the floor, cook your own food at the table, loads of free side dishes) across the road from the school, and little Benny from Cosmos class appeared with his family. He took a while to notice the only white man in the building, but when he did he cooed with exictement and ran over. I asked him, in English, "How are you?" and he dutifully replied "I'm fine!" and scampered off as the Gin Girls cooed in wonder. They were quite taken with them as he scampered about the restaurant with some other little friends that appeared.

Yeah, Korea is far more relaxed with children in this respect. Benny and a few friends were free to roam the restaurant, having fun, and nobody minded in the slightest. In fact, everybody liked it. He was able to speak to myself and the Gin Girls and the parents weren't even remotely concerned he was speaking to strangers. Although Korea is not relaxing for kids with regard to the severe education system they are hauled through, it's far more relaxed and less paranoid than Western countries.

So, still five more classes to teach today, but Thursday is one of my easier days. Later, I think I'm going to Matt's (well, Matt and Rebecca's right now, as she's living there for the next month for so before going home) and watching a film, or "movie" as I've started to call it. I'm really sorry, but slowly Americanisms are beginning to infiltrate my British sensibilities.

Talking of our US cousins, I would like also to take this opportunity to congratulate Mr Bush (or Boo-shee, as Korean renders his name) for his re-election. And at the same time comisserate with America for the four years of increasing paranoia and unpopularity that will follow.

Tuesday 2 November 2004

Public Speaking

Something I have always hated is public speaking. Not even in front of a large crowd, but anything falling under the classification of "speech" used to reduce me to a twitchy paraplegic. In school, my speeches would be garbled and rushed recitations of a pre-prepared script. This barely improved for university, which mercifully only gave me a handful of speeches to present, although as these were always about something completely incoherent like beta-endocrine systems and the Krebs citric cycle they would just be nervy and hurried affairs that fortunately no-one listened to anyway. At no point would I ever improvise, for that could only bring about total collapse.

This lack of speech-making ability continued after university. Last year I hosted a dinner party for friends at my castle, about thirty in all. Before the meal (and subsequent ghoulish debauchery) commenced, I was asked to make a short speech, impromptu. The moment I stood up, all English vanished from my head and all I could manage was something along the lines of "Thanks for coming, enjoy the meal." Even in front of friends, I froze. No matter the size or nature of the audience, it seemed, all public speaking reduced me to an imbecile.

Which was one of my concerns before I started teaching. Although teaching a class is somewhat different from standing up and delivering a formal speech, some key components remained. That is, all attention is on me, I am in charge of proceedings and thus am doing a lot of speaking. Given my previous track record at public speaking I had a twinge of anxiety that I might freeze.

Fortunately, that didn't happen, and I have just about exactly zero nerves in a class. Initially there were a few classes that I would worry "How will I drag out a 40 minute lesson with them," but by now I'm so into my stride that I'm pretty confident I could walk into most classes of non-English speaking children below 12 without any teaching material and spin out a 40 minute lesson without breaking sweat. Public speaking and teaching are, the reality quickly became clear, very different beasts. It's pretty difficult to get nervous in a class of eight 4 year olds. Tired, bored, weary, annoyed, exasperated, hoarse, violent, desperate yes, but never nervous.

As a result of this, I now think that should I ever have to do public speaking, I would probably be a lot better. I can't imagine my speeches ever winning me a seat in government, but I think I'd be a little more relaxed and coherent. Hence, today, yesterday and the next couple of days have been interesting, with regard to the Open House lessons, whereby the parents (all mothers so far) can sit in through the classes.

You see, teaching kids I don't give a damn what the kids think. I want them to be quiet, listen, and answer when asked, but as they as they do those three things they can think I'm the biggest tosser on Earth for all I care. Really, these kids opinions mean very little to me. They are just children and, of course, I don't want them to be murdered or have limbs severed in industrial accidents, but at that age a kid's opinion is just a mish-mash of parroted parental opinions, pure gut emotion and whatever cartoon they've watched that day.

However, with an army of mothers sitting in through a class, there is a little more pressure. These are the women who influence the men who pay for my students to go to this school. They want to see my (specially rehearsed) lesson as a professional one, both educational but entertaining for their small joys. "Edutainment" is the wonderful thing I am meant to provide. I hope that every member of the committee (for it could only have been a committee) that thought of the word "edutainment" have since been murdered, or at least lost a few limbs in industrial accidents.

So, before each Open House class - two so far at one a day - I've had a little pre-stage nerves. Not quivering like a wretched vomitting baby, but just a little on edge. Like public speaking, I'm again expected to present before judgement adults, I'm on show to more than just brainless children. A child has no idea if I'm teaching well or not, but the parents are very much hoping and expecting that I am.

But it's all gone well so far. Certainly, in each class with over twenty adult eyes on me I've not been as "loose" as I might often be. I feel more rigid and less the very relaxed teacher I usually am. The kids are far more rigid than normal - far better behaved too. If the parents sat in through every class these kids would learn twice as fast. But nonetheless, my rehearsed lessons have gone to plan, they've been received pretty well, the kids have done as I've asked them and, to these watching parents, I think I've made a good job of appearing like a real teacher.

Tomorrow, though, is the dreaded Forest class, and their gym lesson. I am not looking forward to this, as a bundle of chaotic children way too young to understand anything systemically fail to do anything I want them to. Let's just hope the parents appreciate some very ultimate means of discipline because after 20 minutes with these dwarf idiots I will not be fully responsible for any potential murders or, indeed, limbs lost in some form of industrial accident re-enaction.

Monday 1 November 2004

Open House kicks off

Usually the computer room where I spend my precious little free time at school is fairly peaceful, but occasionally a class of children descend upon it. Hence, right now I have Cosmos class with me. Each of them is playing the same English game, spread across 9 different computers creating a surreal cacophany of repeated English words blasting at different times from the computers. It's a little like the nightmare you might have if you went to sleep in a room with nine jumping record players.

Today, so far, had my first Open House class, with Ocean class, and it went pretty well. After the director's criticisms, I managed to liven the kids up a little and although much more subdued than usual, hence much easier to teach, I think they still had some of the youthful enthusiasm the director was wanting.

I'm feeling quite healthy today, in contrast to the end of last week where I was very tired, although didn't realise it so much at the time. It was only Saturday morning I realised that I needed aome proper rest. As well as my usually exhausting teaching schedule, my countless early mornings to study Korean had crept up on me and I was well in need to some time to do nothing.

I didn't do that on Friday night, unfortunately. I went out with Matt, Rebecca and some friend of theirs called Cheryl from South Africa who was about to leave Korea. It was a quiet night and I only had a few beers, but my general lack of health conspired to make Saturday morning hell.

I still made my Korean class, but had a thumping headache, a stomach in knots and nausea waving through me. It was then I realised that this undeserved hangover was exacerbated by my general state of tiredness and that it was time to fully rest. So my Saturday afternoon was spent asleep in my bathroom.

This isn't because my bathroom has any magical qualities of regeneration, but because it's pleasant and cool in there. I have no control over the heating in my apartment, which is a pain in the fat hole, and means the underfloor heating makes going to bed like sleeping on a hotplate sometimes. But my bathroom is free of underfloor heating, and I got some very good rest there and woke with my pains all gone and feeling like a brand new Nev.

Which was good, because I was meeting the Gin Girls in the evening for a few drinks downtown, and wanted to be in good health. I also wanted my Korean to be on good form, as it seems to go through cycles right now. Sometimes it's all there and I find I can say most of what I want to, albeit slowly and patchily, but sometimes I'm absolutely uninspired and can't think of a word.

Fortunately, on Saturday, the former was the case and it turned out to be a very enjoyable evening. My Korean was on terrific form and we all got on well. The Gin Girls really are very lovely girls, so lovely in fact that I no longer want to destroy them with gin and brutalise them. I know, I don't know what's wrong with me, but they are just so pleasant and innocent.

Anyway, I have tired of writing already. I will detail the rest of my weekend in bullet points:

- Maebh & Eileen joined us at AU.
- As did a magician
- Later saw Hellboy with Matt and Rebecca at a DVD Bang but walked out before the end. It is very dull.
- Sunday was spent relaxing.
- Went for dinner with Jessy/Suk-jeong and her sister in the evening.

Friday 29 October 2004

Open House Rehearsals

Next week is "Open House" week, whereby the school throws its door open for the parents to sit in through classes. Well, it's not quite as open an invitation as that, but from Tuesday to Friday next week the parents of the kindergarten students are invited to sit through an especially staged, phoney and rehearsed lesson.

The rehearsals have been this week. It's just 20 minutes with each class, half the usual time, and the director wants it all to be smooth, professional and seamless, which is something teaching can never be. Therefore, she has sat in each class and provided her constructive criticism after. Actually, wipe constructive from that last sentence.

Today's fake lesson was Ocean Class, eight very pleasant but usually happily disorganised children with no attention span. Half my lesson is spent just making sure they are all sitting down and paying even a little attention.

But today, they were on immaculate behaviour. Sat at their desks neatly, politely responding to my questions, speaking in chorus when required. Once or twice, a head would slowly begin to sink into hands or eager writing in their book would begin prematurely, but the director immediately snapped them into line with a series of furious barks in Korean. I tell you, the director scares me so she can only be the stuff of the most dreadful nightmares for these poor children. When she gets angry, which is often, she looks like a bullfrog injected with testosterone.

And so, with her sitting at the back, there was no way these poor little kids were going to make even the slightest move towards insuborbination. It was one of the easiest lessons I've had with them, as they sat and listened and remained calm and quiet.

The director's constructive criticism? That the kids weren't active enough. That they weren't seeming to enjoy the lesson as much as they might. That I should try and make it a little more fun and maybe include a game. I think it went beyond her comprehension that her barked tirades were affecting the usual behaviour of the students.

At least it went better than yesterday's class, a damned gym lesson for Forest Class, the tiniest class of all. I cannot stand this class, or this age group rather. They are all just a bunch of mini-spastics at that age, and so they proved to be when I tried to structure a gym lesson for them. They were all over the place, much less ordered than usual due to the director and another teacher standing next to them. Not barking angrily this time, but the change from the routine was enough to confuse the kids. The criticism after this class wasn't, oddly, that there was no apparent order or sense to the lesson and that the kids weren't paying any attention, but that I needed to use more English. Like get the kids to say "I will catch the ball", "I can jump" and "I enjoy learning English in Castle School and find each lesson well prepared and stimulating, and feel it could only be positive for my development for my parents to continue paying for me to go here."

Tuesday's lesson was with Rainbow class, and went perfectly, so no remarks were received after that one, which I take as positive.

I've only got another eight weeks at this school now, and I'm quite relishing leaving. The kids are great, I get free reign in my classes (mostly) but the hours are too long and I'm just starting to get fed up with the place, and always feeling tired. So, in January, a nice long holiday and then I'll be looking for a new job.

The Director Isn't Always Evil

I'm feeling much better after my grumpiness over the last few days. And I'm feeling much mellower towards my director too, who has been a little less demonic since I wrote yesterday.

Yeah, at yesterday's final class, a time when the school is at its quiestest as only six students are there for Thursday's final classes, I saw from my window the teachers gathered round the table in the staffroom, eating away. I rubbed my stomach, letting them know I was hungry, joking. And a few minutes later, a knock on the door and it was my director with some hot pastry-type foods she'd bought from outside for me to have and share in my class. So that was nice.

And today was another rehearsal for next week's "Open House" and I nailed it. It was Cosmos Class, and they were perfect, both well-behaved but suitably excited enough for the director. At the end, she even said "Good job" to me.

It's been quite a hard week overall though, "Open House" just a small factor, the main factor is that I can now see the end. Two months exactly will be my final day. I had wanted to extend my contract my a couple of months, but as I'd be leaving at the same time as David, this wasn't possible. And so, with the end nigh I've been quite restless this week, thinking too much of future plans than on what I'm doing right now.

Future plans were orginally to travel through Russia with Matt, but this has been delayed by a year due to financial reasons, mainly ones connected with expensive renovations to my flats in Aberdeen. Hence, come January I'll be taking a holiday and then looking for another job, probably in Daegu again. I've got plenty of time to scope out a job I like, with shorter and less tiring hours than my current one. I would like to retain a job that allows a degree of flexibility in my teaching however, as I know some teachers are set like clocks to rigid cirriculums.

On other news, it's almost Halloween and to celebrate this, David has painted his face green to look like a monster, and stuck half a ping pong ball over his right eye to further monsterify himself. Little Tom, a space cadet in Forest class, was apparently in terrifed tears over this alarming sight.If I was four years old again, I think I would be too, and that's with David even without the monster make-up.

Wednesday 27 October 2004

Angry

I'm feeling irrationally angry today.

Tuesday 26 October 2004

Saturday Night's Suspected Date

One of my favourite things about Korea are the dancing girls. I don't think I've talked about the dancing girls before, but they cannot fail to cheer my heart whenever I see them.

Invariably, when a new shop opens in Korea (which is often), the dancing girls are dragged out to perform. In front of the main door an archway made from balloons is placed, and to the side of this archway two podiums sit. And on these podiums two pretty young girls, clad in plastic with dinky skirts, dance to utterly ludicrous techno. These poor girls can be seen in both the height of summer and the depths of winter, bopping for hour upon hour.

This weekend had some dancing girls of a different variety, that of girls not clad in plastic skirts and dancing outside shops, but within a nightclub though to equally mental music.

On Saturday evening I met with Jessy, real name "Suk-jeong" the glam-girl ex-teacher from my school. After last week's suspected date, I was to meet her friends and go drinking. We met and had a meal first, at a busy and bright restaurant with a man dressed as Spiderman outside. This man was leaping about enthusiastically, and this ploy appeared to successfully draw in an unending stream of customers. Later, he began waiting on the tables, which was an odd sight.

Suk-jeong's friends, Min-jeong joined us. Suk-jeong, being highly attractive, meant that her friend was likewise very attractive, and this is the great advantage of knowing attractive people. Min-jeong couldn't speak much English but was a lively girl and my Korean was good enough to have patches of chat with her.

We soon moved from this bright, Spiderman-filled restaurant to a bar, which was darker, cosier, and quieter, and with a good atmosphere, and out came the soju.

At this point I became a little nervous, I admit. Yes, nervous. I haven't felt nervous about drinking with a lady for a long time. But I think it was because it was quite clear that what I was on was some kind of date, and I've never been on a date before. I mean, dating has always been a totally alien concept to me. And this was a date with an exceptionally attractive girl too.

Thankfully, a few shots of soju calmed the nerves, and helped my Korean to flow, which was in fairly good form on Saturday night. It goes in waves, from being able to speak quite well (relatively) to forgetting even the basics, but it was in a healthy state that night. Suk-jeong's English is far better than my Korean anyway, so most actual conversing was done in English, but with frequent little bursts of Korean.

A friend of theirs then joined us, this time a guy, with only fragmentory English but a naturally entertaining manner. I got on with him quite well, he relaxed the proceedings a little and I think he paid for all the food and drinks too. Koreans often like to do this - pay for everything - and he did it so stealthily I wasn't aware it happened. I suspect too that he paid for all the drinks in the nightclub we then went to, as I certainly didn't and never had even the vaguest opportunity to do so.

So we moved to a nightclub then, but a Korean one and so only a distant relation of what the term nightclub meant to me back in Scotland. It's got music and alcohol I suppose, but everything else has a different twist. Crazy pop-techno that doesn't belong in any era, distinctly homo-erotic Korean male dancers onstage, vast numbers of seats with a dancing podium plunked in the middle with about enough space for 15 people to dance, and hundreds of waiters, possibly equalling the numbers of customers. This is a phenomenon not restricted to nightclubs but to supermarkets too, and makes me wonder how on earth these venues can make profit when there are legions of employees swarming but doing very little of actual use.

In the nightclub we were joined by Min-jeong's sister and a few other attractive female friends. Beers appeared on our table, along with the obligatory tray of fruit apparently essential to all nightclub proceedings, and the night blurred along enjoyably. There was some dancing, some munching of fruit, some drinking, and some talking in broken English and Korean. One girl gave me her monkey. This isn't a euphimism, she actually gave me her monkey teddy and insisted I wear it round my neck.

It was a good night then, finishing at about 4am. Whether a date or not I still don't know, but I do know that I've been invited to Geoje-do with Suk-jeong and some others I think. Geoje-do is a small but very attractive island on the south coast, and the plan is to go there in a few weeks for the weekend.

Sunday was quite rough and I didn't do much. I wasn't too drunk on Saturday night, but soju is a nasty substance sometimes and hence I took a gentle Sunday of relaxing, drinking juice, and eventually studying Korean. A good weekend though, overall.

Monday 25 October 2004

Fly

I notice some of the younger boys, after having been to the toilet, get a teacher to zip them back up. But whenever I try this, I get a slap.

Friday 22 October 2004

Upcoming Open Day

Apparently next week is an open day for the school. This means that the parents of the children (just kindergarten I think) are allowed to sit in on the classes.

This is worryingly me deeply, as it means I'll have to change my teaching policy of the last nine months, which is "no clothes below the waist".

What it does mean, actually, is that the kids will probably be hyper well-behaved. Any time in the past when I've had someone else in the class, the kids miraculously sit quietly and listen.

Here are some other things I probably won't do when the parents are in the room:
- crack noisy kids hard on the skull with my marker pen
- get quickly restless in a quiet room of working children and start making silly noises or humming songs
- picking children up from their chairs and whirling them about, for no good reason
- demand absolute silence then pace about for a couple of minutes doing nothing but enjoying the peace
- messing about with my cassette recorder, making it do silly noises that the kids quickly tire of, but oddly I never do
- Simon Says "fight"

I may play my inordinately popular "Quiet" game. I like this game a lot, and so do the easily-manipulated children. The aim of the game is to remain quiet, and those who make a noise lose the game. Playing this game guarantees a good five minutes of determined silence.

I've only got about another 9 working weeks until finishing at my school forever. I've decided to join the British Army afterwards. Wait, that's not true, I'm probably going to take a leasurely holiday and find a new job,

Tomorrow, I'm meant to be going out with ex-teacher glam girl Jessy. She's really very attractive, so I'm going to be very pleasant and charming, and then ply her full of spirits till she's comprehensively plastered and send her into a whole new world of pain and regret.

Wednesday 20 October 2004

Naturally Mournful Children

In the kindergarten, of course, most children are stupendously happy in that mindless way only young children can manage. They never walk, only run, and delight overcomes them numerous times on a daily basis, so much so that their only means of expression is to yell and scream. Their numerous petty squabbles and bad tempers have vanished from their memories almost as soon as they have occurred. In their youth they cannot appreciate how precious their innocence will one day seem, as the future holds for them many revelations of a dark, brutal, cynical cold world full of fermenting evil and diabolical ruinations.

This applies to the majority of the kindergarten anyway, who spend their days in happiness. However, there are a couple of young tots who already show signs of a predeliction for gloom. With naturally doom-ridden faces, their happiness is tempered by early sparks of self-absorbed introspection and over-sensitive pessimism.

These two children are Samuel and Alex.

Samuel is in Rainbow class. He is quite sweet, and his mother evidently takes great care in styling his hair, as he ranges from a mini-Elvis to the slicked back style of the yuppy 80s. He speaks in a quiet and croaky voice, and is prone to bursts of irrational excitement. Just as quick though, bursts of devasted misery are prone to overwhelm him, and he has a face moulded perfectly for this. His face seems to droop, just like the Warner Brothers cartoon dog, and his eyes sag from the pressures of his young life. A simple question answered wrong can trigger a world of torment for this poor little chap, as his lips tremble in sadness and he is unable to prevent the tears welling in his eyes before becoming a flood of tears, which he buries in his arms with his face. His dark eyes stare hauntingly at you, as if a puppy dog being boxed up and sent to its fate downriver.

Alex is a year or two younger, in Forest class. He isn't prone to crying, but nor is he ever prone to great displays of happiness. Already at this young age, he is a ghost, a faint shadow in the classroom. His face is pulled down, long and empty of emotion. He is always pale. His greatest excitement seems to be when questioned about a letter of the alphabet, which he invariably identifies as "K". Gym class holds few thrills, as while the others run around gaily, he frequently slinks in a corner unwilling to participate. He's neither bright or popular, and is ignored more than he is pushed around. This is not to mean he is without his spells of impish pleasure, but too often when running about in excitement, his is actually just trailing behind the other members of his class, unsure exactly what the source of joy is but just instinctively feeling he should be part of it.

As the traditional Korean society based on Confucianism decays under the overwhelming force of Westernisation, capitalism and globalisation, the community spirit is one of the first things to be shattered. The suicide rate in Korea is climbing, as a sense of isolation cripples those who feel they have no place in this new, impersonal society. Without a community to be embraced and controlled by - for better and for worse - there is no system of support for the lonely. Thus, annually, the suicide rate in Korea climbs.

Samuel and Alex are but young children, with an unknown future ahead of them. But even in these days of youthful reckless hedonism, demons haunt their joy. Let's pray for these sweet little angels and for the years ahead of them, and hope they always find an embracing community to shelter them from the torments of depression.

Tuesday 19 October 2004

Short Lesson in Korean

Korean is a very difficult language to learn. Here are a handful of the words that I've struggled to deal with.

I've written the Korean version phonetically.

Banana - ba-na-na
Juice - joo-suh
Internet - in-tuh-net-tuh
Shopping - shyo-peeng
Card - cad-uh
Building - beeld-eeng
Computer - com-pyoo-tah
Stress - suh-tuh-res-suh (say it fast)

I'll leave you hanging as to meanings of the following words: tel-leh-bi-syon, ra-dee-o, ah-ees-kuh-reem.

Monday 18 October 2004

Noble Korean Motivations

Every Saturday I have my Korean class at the YMCA downtown. I enjoy my Korean class a lot, in large part because I enjoy learning Korean. However, the reason I'm really enjoying it these days is because I'm the best in the class.

My motivation for wanting to learn Korean is a little uncertain. Of course, it should be to open up a culture and educate me to the land I'm living in. I suppose that may be a minor reason lurking somewhere within me. But what really drives me to learn Korean is just two things: the women and the chance to be smug every week at my YMCA class.

There are about 10 people in the class, all supposedly at the same level, but ranging from poor to, well, me. The reason I'm so good isn't because I'm gifted with unnatural intelligence, it's simply because I've been studying very hard for longer than some of these people. Regardless though, I have to suppress my smug smile when I hear them struggling with coursework than I covered ages ago and understand fully.

Yes, I am a complete prick.

Most of the class are simply about average for their level, but there are a couple of competitors for my self-proclaimed position as best of the class. There is Sherry, a Canadian, who was in my previous class too and I think puts in a lot of work. Her vocabulary and understanding is very good. I suspect she has some Korean friends too who help her.

Then there's a Japanese girl, called Yuzuki, or something mental like that. The Japanese have got a headstart because their language resembles Korean structurally. Yuzuki doesn't make the class every week, but she appears to have a very grasp of the language, and often knows words which I don't, something which always causes alarm.

There's also some guy called David, who appears to have a grip on things. His (probably Canadian) accent is still too strongly heard when he speaks Korean though.

Actually, all my childlike competitive smugness aside, I think I am a fairly constructive part of the class, as our teacher can sometimes rattle on in Korean to the bewilderment of many, but because I've studied it before I can explain some of the unclear points.

So, being a cocky prick in Korean class is one motivating factor that drives me to learn. Another one, of course, is the ladies.

Last night I went for dinner with "Jessy", the glam-girl ex-teacher of my school. We met last week for the first time, to practice Korean and English and it went well, and so this time we met downtown and went for a meal.

Again, very pleasant, and afterwards we saw a film (Collatororoeoal with Tom Cruise, which was great except the silly ending) and have agreed to meet again next Saturday for a meal and drinks and meet some of her friends. And it was during this I thought, "hang on, is this a lesson or a date?"

You see, it was structured very much like a date, and felt like one, although as I've never been on a date I don't really know. Dating has always seemed a strange American phenomenon, whereas in Scotland dating is replaced usually by "drink, bang, regret".

Whatever it was, I don't mind as it's all very helpful to my noble pursuit of learning Korean. Although Jessy may not be the best teacher because I can't help but fixate on her breasts every time she's around. Her breasts get in the way not just of my Korean speaking, but of my English speaking too.

Other stuff that happened this weekend was getting quite drunk on Saturday night, for the first time in a while. A mostly fun night, and I was in especially charming form once again. Until I had one drink too many and ended up in a noraebang, whereby I turned into a complete spastic, unable to function. Hence on Sunday I was more or less crippled by pain. I ended up going to a lake and watching Matt waterskiing, along with Rebecca and two others - Owen (the guy who looks like a giant baby) and his girlfriend Fiona.

I'm a little tired now, so I'm going to stop writing, and charge myself up for the 6 classes that still remain today.

Monday 11 October 2004

Weekend Report

I hope everyone had a pleasant weekend. Mine was enjoyable, but possibly more inclined towards amiable than adrenalin-packed excitement.

Friday night was my evening drinking with the Gin Girls. You can trust me that I had some marvellously dark designs on the night, but the reality was actually a far more civilised event. We just had a couple of cocktails at a bar downtown. My dreams of plying the girls with gin still remains an unrealised ambition because when the girls were choosing their cocktail I had no idea which would contain gin. If anybody knows, please let me know.

Anyway, over time I'm realising that the girls are a little conservative. I mean that in a complimentary way too. They're fun and good company but I think lead a quieter life than I. Daegu is the most conservative city in Korea and I see this reflected. Hence, they were not desperate to throw themselves into a world of beer, vomitting and falling downstairs so I suppose I'll have to retain some of my old friends for that. They are, however, delightfully and charmingly polite. Maybe they are even a good influence on me. Good Lord.

Saturday was my Korean class, followed by lunch at my new favourite restaurant, a small Japanese place. I'm enjoying my Korean class, if only because I'm way ahead of most others. I feel very smug and self-satisfied. My bubble of invincibility from last week has burst though, as I've come back down to earth and realised that although progressing in Korean well, I still have a long, long way to go. I'm not going to be entering any Korean debating contests anytime soon.

The rest of the day was uneventful. I rested at my place then in the evening saw a film with Matt called "The Girl Next Door" which was diverting. A drink and then home.

Yesterday's main event was a new student of mine, that is a new Korean/English lesson. It was with Jessy, the school glamour girl who left last week. She needs to practice her English and as she's very attractive I was happy to help. She's able to explain why my mistakes in Korean are wrong too, which the Gin Girls were unable to do. However, as her English is reasonable it's a little easy to revert to it when I'm tryng to say something difficult.

Anyway, it was the first lesson and it went really well. It lasted 3 and a half hours, which is crazy time, and just flew by. Time flies when you're having fun, I suppose, and although probably of minimal use to my Korean, I was quite engrossed with staring at her breasts to be honest.

She's invited me to a wedding too. It's in December, some friends of her. Korean weddings are supposed to be very tacky affairs, conducted like a gaudy business reception, and seems to take about 20 minutes, so it sounds interesting.

Sunday evening, I met with Maebh, who took me out for a meal of "Shabu-shabu" which involves dipping thin slices of meat into hot water and cooking them, then eating with little balls of rice, and is very tasty indeed. I taught Maebh some Korean grammar then, as she is keen to learn but hasn't worked much on the grammatical side, which is my strength.

And now today, which is always my hardest day at work, but went ok. Especially because I killed the final class, not literally, but killed the spirits of the annoying children. It was very satisfying.

I'm hungry now. I hope you all have a truly wonderful day, full of joys that can only be expressed in shining displays of love. I'm going to go home and masturbate myself dry now. Christ, I can't say that, my mother reads this. I'm going to watch TV and rest.

Thursday 7 October 2004

Haircut

About four weeks ago I cut my hair, which may seem a trival incident to bring up now, but I regret not writing it about it at the time.

You see, my hair was becoming really quite long and unkempt, and made me look like some sort of wild tramp. Also, the length at the back made me appear, from certain angles, to have a mullet in an early stage of formation. While a mightily admirable hairstyle, it perhaps wasn't right for me at this stage in my life, so finally it had to go.

I wanted to get rid of all this excess hair a long time before, but couldn't. Even through the sticky heat of summer, I allowed the hair on my head to keep growing. Not through choice, but to win an important bet I'd made with Matt in February. Simply, we bet each not to cut our hair until September 11th, and the winner would get 20,000 Won (about £10). Matt gave in after just a few weeks, quite pathetically, but I endeavoured on and when it got to the point - about July - where my hair was becoming silly, I'd gone too far to chop it all off.

Anyway, I won my bet and could do my head a mercy and remove the hair. I didn't cut it too short, just a neat going-over with the clippers. I look quite, quite different.

It was the reaction the next day in school that made this all so memorable. I definitely looked better, but to children who have been used to Nev-teacher with lots of hair, any change from the status quo seems odd, and they were not reticent in showing this.

I tell you, it's a sobering experience to walk into 9 classes of 12 children in the course of a day, and to have each class literally screaming with laughter. Not just laughing, but shouting and yelling with delerium. As if it was the craziest, strangest, most peculiar thing they had ever seen, not to mention perpetrated by this white monkey of a teacher.

The laughter abated after a couple of days, although the whispers of "Nebu mori" (Nev-hair) took a lot longer. The kids have got used to my new, improved look and I am certainly much happier. Apart from being a hell of a lot easier to deal with, it looks far more civilised and I wouldn't say it unlikely for the upturn in my charms.

It shouldn't have to be said, however, that no such drastic action will be done to my beard, claimed sometimes to be magical. I would rather lose a finger than my beard. Although probably I wouldn't go as far to lose an entire limb. But sometimes you just don't know how you'd choose until forced with the decision. Let's pray I never have to make that choice.

Wednesday 6 October 2004

My Magical Beard

I received this email from my sister today:

hey, just read your travel diary- you man-whore! How many women do you
meet in one week that want to have your babies?! I find this quite
astonishing- do you hyponise them with your beard? I know it's a novelty
over there, but surely yours must have some magical power!


Yes, I do indeed have a magical, hyptonising beard. But I do take issue with the term "man-whore". Since my transformation into a well-groomed, well-dressed gentleman, my intentions are unequivocably honourable, and my charms are pure and good.

Tuesday 5 October 2004

Good Korean Progress

I've had a revelatory few days regarding my ongoing pursuit of learning Korean. Although progressing steadily anyway, something must have clicked because the language has suddenly snapped into focus and months of fragments have pieced together to create a clear, and rather wonderful, picture.

Ok, so don't assume anything near decently conversational yet, but last night with the Gin Girls was perhaps by best evening of Korean speaking yet. Learning Korean is like climbing a gigantic mountain, perpetually shrouded in heavy fog so that you never really know how far up you are, only that it's very steep. But sometimes you reach a certain peak and the mist clears from below, and you get a fabulous view of what you have already climbed. The last few days have seen me climbing particularly fast as I've gone into 5th gear with my studies and the view is great.

It was the first time I'd seen the Gin Girls in a couple of weeks, due to the Chuseok break. I met them after work, so I was pretty fatigued, but somehow sensed that I'd gained a lot of understanding in that time. And it turned out to be the best lesson we'd had.

It wasn't even a lesson, actually. Usually we'll have a fragmented chat on what we've been doing before having to use the book we study from. But yesterday the chat just kept going and, aside from taking a few notes on new words, it was more just like we were talking. It was mostly all done in Korean, but for one of the first time, I was able to say just about everything I wanted to. It was a very good feeling - perhaps like hauling myself up a vertical surface to find a pleasant gentle downwards slope to stroll along.

Even better is this coming Friday. The Gin Girls, perhaps subconsciously aware of their name, have invited me out for drinks. This is at a bar called AU, downtown, a new, spacious and well-atmosphered bar that I've been to a number of occasions. This must be my prime opportunity to lather them with alcohol (namely gin cocktails) before sending them into a world of sin.

Despite my dreadfully ignoble intentions, the Gin Girls have been very productive for my Korean. I can still remember out first few meetings, about three months ago, in which my Korean was sparse and proceedings were conducted in English. Now it's majority Korean.

I have a long way to go before being any good at Korean, but I have some very solid foundations under me now. Learning Korean is perhaps the best thing I've done in Korea and I don't think it an exaggeration to describe it as one of most satisfying experiences of my life. Whereas once, taxi drivers (for example) would ask me a simple question and I would have to respond with an apologetic noise, now I understand and can begin a usually very amusing and patchy conversation. I think I'm beginning to reach the stage where a lot of my learning will be done, not just by self-study, but by interaction. And that, it is certain, is the whole purpose of learing a language: to interact.

So today I am in a good mood. Not just from the prospect of corrupting two sweet Korean girls, but from the sense of achievement of having really learned something.

And now the bell has gone and it is time for me to pass that sense of achievement into the hearts and minds of some very restless 4-year-olds.

Sunday 3 October 2004

Charming Nev

I got back from holiday on Thursday. Not a big holiday, just Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off, but it was a very restful few days. The holiday was due to Chuseok, a big thanksgiving type holiday whereby half of Korea travels across the country on the same day to spend a few days at the grandmother's home (I think, or something like that).

Originally I'd planned to visit Busan for a couple of days, with Rebecca and a few other ladies, but this plan was somewhat scuppered by my failing to wake up on time. Inexplicably, on Monday morning, I only woke at 9.50am, which was the exact time I was supposed to meet everyone at the train station. Usually, I'll be awake by 8am at the latest. And as I didn't have anybody's phone number, or those I did had recently lost their phone, I couldn't catch up with them later.

So my only plan for the holiday was abandoned, but I was quite glad as I don't think Busan would have been anything special. Instead it gave me a perfect opportunity to savour a few days of peace and tranquility, studying Korean and relaxing.

And it also gave me the unintended opportunity to charm the ladies.

I've been very charming with the ladies recently. And when I say that, I don't mean that my dirty little man downstairs has been sleazing around and spraying his grubby muck willy-nilly, no I mean I've been charming and pleasant and entirely unlike the true sordid character that lurks within. My now feeble but just capable grasp of Korean is beginning to reap dividends. Last Saturday I was out with Tim, as he has moved to Seoul for a new job. With Tim were a few Korean friends that don't speak any English, or speak very little. So the entire night had to be conducted in Korean.

Now, for not one second do I pretend our conversation was anything but numbingly bad. Stuff like "What do you study?", "When do you graduate?" and "Do you like beer?" were the highlights, although I did make a joke in very fragmented Korean about if "I sing then ears are sick". Fortunately Koreans are usually very accommodating with our dreadful stabs at their language, and because both me and Tim are eager learners and good company then they happily tolerated us.

There were three Koreans with us that night. One was a girl I've met a few times, a very funny girl and full of life, although quite frankly looks like a dog that's been hit by a shovel. I know that may sound cruel but it's simply descriptive, you must trust me. Her boyfriend (I think) was there too, a gentle, laid back guy who didn't resemble any kind of animal, hit by a shovel or not. The third was a girl, a very cute girl studying Beauty Therapy or some nonsense like that in university/college.

After a few beers, my Korean started to flow and it really was much easier to speak it. We moved onto a very busy club where conversation became secondary to limited dancing in a very small space, but whether it be by the power of words or simply the thrust of my dancing, I seemed to get on quite well with this "Beauty Therapist". I hasten to add, once more, that I was Charming Nev and not Sleazy Nev, and so at the end of the night I got her phonenumber without once trying to haul her off to my apartment for some fast pumping. I suppose I'll have to phone her, but I can't for the life of me remember her name and my Korean over the phone is many times worse than it is in person. She was very, very cute though, and being a Beauty Therapist I'm sure her level of intelligence is about on a par with my child-like grasp of Korean.

That was my Saturday night of being charming then. The previous week I procured another phonenumber, from an ethnically Korean but American adopted girl. She's fully American, culturally, but was born in Korea and adopted overseas. She's a friend of Rebecca's, a new teacher in the school, and for the first month I wrote her off as attractive but boring, but in a head to head fight between the two, attractive always overcomes boring. Anyway, the Saturday before last we met after a Korean class and went to some workshop type thing dealing with traditional Korean culture. This is all the usual stuff like making rice cakes, wearing silly clothes and elaborate bowing, although was quite interesting. That night, a large group of was out on a combined leavning night (of Nicky, Pam and maybe someone else) and this girl - Jamaleh is her name - became quite interesting, She doesn't drink, which at first appalled me, but this is because of her religion. She was brought up as Bahai, which is a small religion started about 150 years ago. I've heard of it because their main temple is in Haifa in Israel, which I visited three years ago. It's a large temple on a hill with a line on amazingly symmetrical gardens running both up and down the hill from it.

Anyway, once again I was on exemplary behaviour, although that is probably only because the night rumbled on till about 9am and by this stage I was simply too exhausted to be sleazy, and was far too conscious of the fact that she was completely sober, which is something I can't handle when I'm drunk.

I have been doing many things besides being charming, I should mention. Studying Korean primarily, which I continue to enjoy, and general socialising. I was very glad of my holiday this week though, which was what I was meaning to write about here, as teaching 43 classes a week for the last two months gets pretty damn tiring, and hence when I missed my train to Busan it was a perfect opportunity to completely relax and recharge some energy. Which I very successfully did.

I did little on Monday except stay at home, study Korean, and rewrite some of last year's photo diary. I had a small opportunity to be charming however, when I ventured onto my rooftop to enjoy the sunshine. Alas, my powers of charm were only allowed to be used upon a lady of perhaps 90 years of age, although a very friendly one. She was small, thin and wiry and the pressures of 90 years of living - through Japanese occupation, WW2 and the Korean War - had evidently been a big burden upon her as she couldn't stand straight and instead shuffled around like a hunched, dying crone. She tried speaking to me but I couldn't make out much of what she was saying, although it seemed like she was maybe saying she had no family to be with over Chuseok. In which case would be quite sad. That could be a complete misinterpretation however. I know she lived in the area as I was able to ask her that. She was arranging fruit on the rooftop to dry, and while doing this stared at me the entire time. Not a hostile stare, just an ongoing friendly, curious look. She gave me some small fruit which I politely ate. They were hard and disgusting.

Tuesday my luck with the ladies continued, but improved as I managed to cut 70 years off the age, get an English speaker and someone who could stand up straight too.

It was all very unexpected. I'd expected my Tuesday to be much like the Monday, except I took a trip downtown to see what was happening. Not much. Tuesday was the main day of Chuseok and so most shops were closed, and it was probably surprising that any were open at all. Quite a few people were about, although not half as many as you'd expect usually. The bookstore wasn't open so I was unable to buy anything, so just went to a coffeeshop to drink coffee and rewrite some photo diary. Just innocently minding my own business.

Until I caught the eye of some young lady.

Although I'm quite happy to be approached, it doesn't often happen because either I walk around too fast or when I'm stationary I pay little attention to my surroundings and never look anyone in the eye. I probably appear a shifty character to some. This day, in the coffeeshop, I certainly had no idea who was around me, and noticed only the blur of Korean conversation. Until some yellow appeared before me, and a voice asked if it could join me.

This has never happened to me in a coffeeshop before, and I doubt it does happen much except in episodes of Friends. So what luck it was that when it did happen, it wasn't some freaky 55 year old Australian with unwashed hair, a desperately lonely man from Hull, or some fat Canadian, but a very attractive Korean girl.

Well, of course, I said, please join me, and we started talking. Her English was absolutely fluent, flawless and better than many native speakers, and I had to ascertain that she wasn't American at first. She explained that she wasn't at home with her family - as is usual during the main day of Chuseok - because of an argument with her mother about her being lazy and not helping with the traditional female duties of cleaning up the dishes. She'd phoned a friend to meet her for a coffee but had got a phonecall from the friend shortly after saying that her young child had fallen down the stairs and had to be taken to hospital. When she laughed as she told me this, I knew I liked this girl.

We sat and drank coffee together and chatted away about anything. At first the usual ice-breaker of where I'm from and cultural differences and such. But this progressed onto other tangents and I learnt quite a lot of interesting things. Such as, she claimed, 2 out of every 10 young women in Korea have had plastic surgery. This seems quite incredible but she's not the first person I've heard say such a thing, indeed, Korea is reputed to be the plastic surgery capital of the world. She explained that being a plastic surgeon in Korea is a very well considered job, and that the most popular operation was to get some eyelid removed to make the eyes appear wider and, as Koreans perceive it, more attractive.

What really kicked the conversation off was the revelation that I was learning Korean. Although my Korean is little more developed than a toddler's, she was enchanted by it. And I've found that when I'm speaking Korean I say a lot of things I'd never consider saying in English, Just because it's too brazen. So I explained to her in Korean about how long I'd been learning it, where and how I was studying, and who with. In Korean I told her that my teachers always had to be attractive because I could never learn from an ugly teacher. She asked me if she was pretty enough and how she compared to the Gin Girls, and I told her of course, and that she was my prettiest teacher. All of which sounds dreadfully pathetic in English but I imagine said from the voice of broken childish Korean may have sounded oddly appealing.

She helped me out with my Korean, although I'd had four coffees by now so was too pumped full of caffeine to be terribly effective. She's been an English teacher for a year, after having graduated in English in university, but I was her first Korean student and I think she enjoyed the novelty.

Suddenly we realised it was dark outside, and that we were both very hungry and we'd been in the coffeeshop for 5 hours. We went for a meal at a small Japanese restaurant that I like going to, and although she ordered the same thing as me (a big social faux pas in my book), by this stage I had noticed that she had a really quite excellent ass, and so I didn't mind. She gave me all her best Korean lines too; as well as complementing my awful grasp of Korean, she also admired my skilfull use of chopsticks. Many Korean do this, as if the thought of a Westerner using chopsticks is something quite incredible. However, I've come to learn that what can sometimes be perceived as patronising or rude is usually anything but - it's just cultural differences. That's why Koreans sometimes laugh at my Korean - it's never because they're laughing at me, it's usually just surprise because it's so unusual, and equally, their gasps of astonishment that I can say more than three words is meant to be encouraging, even if it can seem like the equivalent of patting a retard on the head for tying his shoelaces.

We went for a film after that - The Village by M. Night Shyalalaman, which was decent enough, hardly spectacular, although was partially ruined by the fact I really wanted to break wind for quite some time, but had to hold it in for the sake of etiquitte.

Our goodbyes were made after that, as we'd been together for the day and it was time to go. Se-jin lives and works in Seoul and was just visiting her family in Daegu for the holiday, but we agreed to keep in contact and I'll see her when I next visit. Besides the fact she had a very good ass, a good body and was very pretty, I believe she may have had a good personality too.

Wednesday was spent just studying a little more, and in the evening having dinner with Matt (returned from a jaunt to Singapore and Malaysia, on the way back from a wedding in New Zealand) and Rebecca. I broke the news to Matt that because of financial problems regarding having to find a lot of money to pay for renovations of a flat I own in Aberdeen, I can't travel to Russia next year and will have to spend an additional year in Korea. I may outline this in greater detail in a future entry. Matt wasn't too bothered, I think we both quite like the idea of another year in Korea.

Back at teaching then, and it's been fine as usual. I'm enjoying my teaching, I think I'm quite good, and I can certainly control my classes well. I like quiet, calm classes but also enjoy punishing children with humiliation or hitting them on the head with a marker pen, so my students have learned to conform to these ideals.

I continued my run of charming form on Friday. After work, the staff (minus anti-social David, who prefers to watch TV) got together and had a few drinks. All Korean, except me, therefore the conversation often was well beyond my grasp. The entire night Daniel was being glaringly obvious by trying to set me up with Cathy, an attractive but shy young thing. I'm quite I couldn't understand of what he was saying. However, I think - on a far more wholesome note - she wants to practice her fairly faltering English but has been too shy to ask me, so I might broker a deal for equal Korean-English lessons. As I said before, I can only learn from attractive teachers, and she definitely qualifies.

And that night too, while walking home with Jessie - the glamour girl of the school who is leaving next week to study English before beginning a career as a flight attendant - she dropped a big hint about needing someone to practice her English with. She does a little practice with David but he is an excessively ugly man and so needs a gentleman with a little more pride in his appearance (she didn't say that, that's just speculation). So I've agreed to meet up for lessons with her after she leaves the school. Which means I'll now have four young ladies under my wing for private lessons.

Anyway, today is a bright and clear day, free of the oppressive heat of summer as Autumn has finally arrived with graceful serenity. I'm enjoying the feeling of being cold once again. And so, I'm going to finish up now and do some shopping, and eat some chocolate cookies and drink some juice, and study Korean and listen to music and then meet up with Maebh (Irish girl who I'm back in contact with after a summer of hardly seeing her) to help her with her Korean, then meet up with Matt for a movie. So it looks to be a very delightful day.

And apologies for any overtones of lechery or sleaziness in this email, regarding women as mere chunks of meat. I can assure you that after studying a foreign language for many months and greatly cutting down on my drinking, my brain has got into gear and I have become a character that my mother can once more take pride in, after putting up with years of shame.

Wednesday 22 September 2004

Computer Suicide And Unsuitable Supervision

My mother just sent me an email suggesting my lack of updating here must be due to the unlimited access to porn I now have. Alas, how I wish that was true, and I was able to whip myself up into the masturbatory frenzy I would so relish. The truth is less salacious. My computer, upon getting the internet, has committed suicide and is now just an ugly mechanical object that dominates my room with its uselessness. It stubbornly refuses to do anything.

Hence, my excuse of this week for not emailing of writing.

Hopefully I'll get a chance to write before the weekend though. It's Chuseok next week, a kind of ancestor worship/thanksgiving/Christmas all rolled into one, and is the biggest holiday and celebration of the Korean year. It's a family thing though, meaning I will be trapped alone, dwelling on my family many millions of miles away. Actually, I've a few plans to meet with people and maybe go to Busan, and I'll take the opportunity to get my apartment cleaned and sorted.

On Friday, with the kindergarten, a special morning of joy is planned too. This involves me being allocated a room, and puts me in charge of two events. First of all is the bowing. Perhaps unwisely, I am in charge of teaching boys and girls the traditional respectful bow for their elders. Some would say that getting a Western male to teach a Korean girl her traditional bow may result in a few inaccuracies. Luckily, last Saturday I went to a kind of workshop thing which was about Chuseok and the traditions, so I do have a little experience of it. I may add a few Kung Fu moves for good measure.

More disturbing is that they've put me in charge of the Korean wrestling. I have to supervise small Korean children wrestling. It is no exaggeration when I say that I am anticipating this as being one of the highlights of my life.

Well, I'm impressed. Maybe I should start writing more again, as this only took about 5 minutes and was quite enjoyable. Maybe I'll try and write about my weekend later, and enthuse a lot about my ongoing learning of the Korean language. And the excitement that the Gin Girls have suggested going out drinking sometime soon, which is the ideal opportunity for me to abuse and confuse them with gin. But I'll tell all about that when I write later. Maybe.

Thursday 16 September 2004

The Internet Is Here

Finally, I have internet in my apartment. This means I have no excuse for catching up with a massive backlog of emails, and getting up to date with this damn diary. At work, I'm usually too busy tired to write much of substance, but at home, with a cold beer on my left and relaxing music gurgling to my right, the environment is set perfectly for some worthwhile writing.

Unfortunately, it also means I have unlimited pornography at my disposal, 24 hours a day, so you may never hear from me again.

Friday 10 September 2004

My Life Progress

I'm not sure what this says about my development as either a teacher or as a person, but I now actively enjoy when a child cries.

Thursday 26 August 2004

New Gym Game

When 4 out of 5 five-year-olds are in tears, the new gym game may be a little too energetic.

Sunday 22 August 2004

Wander

After my months of good behaviour, it looks like I'm changing back into the old beast. Again, I nurse a hangover that is far more mild than I deserve after drinking until daylight. And after months of the selfless saving of orphans, I've not been there in five weeks.

Mum, don't worry, you have full permission to continue telling my older relatives that I'm the good child that I briefly was.

Actually, I've just struck a healthy balance. Just before my holiday in Laos, I recognised that my lifestyle was becoming far too hermitic. The only person I ever spoke to outside of work was Matt, just about. So I'm allowing myself to re-enter the social world a little. Not immerse myself, but just dip into my old pool of friends, and enjoy a few social drinks occasionally. My Korean studying has been very good this week and the teaching is hard work, so I feel I can partake in the occasional waster session.

As for the orphanage, I just felt it wasn't worth it. It was a lot of effort for ultimately little reward, for me or the orphans. If my purpose of going there was just to play games I wouldn't have minded, but any attempts at English teaching were futile. The lack of organisation made it impossible, so everyone's time was wasted. And being Saturday afternoon wasn't the best timing for me.

Anyway, my weekend has been a good one. On Friday night, straight after work, I went round to Hyo-Ju's (Gin Girl no. 1) house, for dinner with her and In-a. We ate it seated on the floor, round a small table in her bedroom. To my surprise, once in the bedroom, both shed their clothes and begged for deflowerment.

Wait, that last sentence isn't entirely accurate. No, we ate a civilised meal and then did some studying. I really enjoy these meetings; they too. They're very beneficial for my spoken and listening Korean, but the girls are also good fun. It's much easier to learn (and teach) when the teachers are both attractive girls in their early 20s. I think I'd have a harder job if they were pigs. But then I'm very superficial.

Of course, the girls are lucky too. Not just because they have Handsome Nev as their teacher, but because they've caught me in my well dressed phase. If they'd caught me at the start of the year, I was a scabby, shabby, shuffling wreck of a man.

That was my Friday night then, a meal and some enjoyable studying. It was an early night, thus a fairly early start to Saturday morning, which I spent reading about oppression of women in Iran. In the early afternoon Matt called by the apartment, as we had a plan for the day to walk north.

From my apartment rooftop, I have a great view of bouncy green mountains immediately to the north. Every time I see them, I think "I should walk to them one day" but I never get round to it. But after the near-storm of mid-week, I realised that the weather was going to be fairly cool and clear for a days, as opposed to the usual crushing humidity. This would be a perfect opportunity to explore these hills.

Matt agreed to join me, so we set off on our jaunt. We chose a small road that appeared to go in the right direction, and I think we chose well for it led to many interesting things.

The first was a passenger aeroplane, almost within touching distance flying over our heads. The airport is quite near my house and the incoming planes fly nearby. With the traffic noise, I rarely hear them, and just occasionally see them. However, upon turning a corner and hearing a noise that sounded like a lorry engine, we were both startled when a full sized aeroplane appeared suddenly, not more than a few seconds from landing on the nearby runway.

Anyway... I'm tired of writing now because I want to pick up some photos and drink some juice. Briefly, we found the oldest house in the Daegu area in a tiny village nestled between mountain, and then some kind of shaman shrine, appearing like a mirage in the middle of a forested area. Then we went downtown and ate some food and went out and drank and socialised and were very pleasant company for those around us.

Thursday 19 August 2004

No Storm and New Kid

I'm very upset. In fact, I'd go as far to say that I feel like my soul has been raped. Because that storm I was looking forward to took a southern lurch and the best part bypassed Daegu. Therefore, while we got a lot of black cloud and a few intensely heavy showers of rain, when I woke up this morning it was merely a little windy with light rain. Now, in the afternoon, I can actually see blue sky. No tropical storm after all, which grieves me.

On a different note, Ocean class has a new student. I don't know his name yet, maybe Alfred, but I don't like him. He's bigger than the other kids and isn't as tamed as they are. However, in gym today I managed to make him cry. We have a game where they run round a circle trying to catch each other. I joined in and chased after him, and he got so excited that his little legs couldn't keep up with the speeds he was attempting, and he smashed into the wall and burst into tears.

That will teach that small child to mess with me.