"Little Ones to Him behold..."

      There may be a misconception that I am not actually teaching! It seems that I have talked a lot about my life in regards to my leisure activities, when in all actuality, my leisure time is only about a third of the my time in Korea. I am, first and foremost a teacher. In March I was reminded that as teachers we have the opportunity to "learn all of the little personalities of the students." This comment struck a note with me, and I have been focusing on it daily every since.
      Monday through Friday I spend operating within a set schedule. I teach two to three classes before lunch, eat lunch, finish my kindy classes and transition into elementary. This routine is off-set at the end of the week by Friday Activity Day. The Activity Days vary in length and magnitude of events. Two of our activities in March were Easter (celebrated a month early) and a field trip to the Air Force Academy. Both of these events allowed me to play with my kids and have a little fun.
      To begin Easter was a day where we were able to introduce the concept of spring, egg dying, Easter Bunnies, and egg hunts. We spent the whole day doing Easter crafts and running around Wonderland. The highlight of the day was an Easter egg hunt, during which the students just ran around looking for "eggs" in the form of paper. They were elated (they had never experienced an "egg" hunt before).
      Secondly, the field trip to the Air Force Academy was a full blown field trip. I don't recall if I have previously mentioned that field trips often consist of shuttling the kids to a location, rushing through an exhibit, taking photos and leaving. This field trip however, was the exact opposite! We left early and arrived in a large field for snack time. The students sat in the grass, ate snack and ran around. We moved and ran around some more. We returned to the bus, went inside the military base and just kept running from plane, to helicopter seeing the sights. It was a glorious day where I was able to watch the kids over heat from the sun, struggle with unstructured free time, and enjoy being outside of Wonderland.
      Outside of teaching, I also have chosen to volunteer at an orphanage once a month with church. Volunteering has turned out to be some of the most life giving moments I have yet to encounter in Korea. During my first trip to the orphanage I was befriend by an eight year old child, Ho Yun. Him and I spent the first afternoon playing with clay, petting dogs, eating a snack, running, and sharing physical space. When I returned a month later I wasn't able to fully emerge from the van before I felt a little hand in mine. I looked down to discover Ho Yun ready to pull me inside.
      The second afternoon with Ho Yun I learned that we shared a special bond, one of friendship and support. We spent the second day similar to that before, working with clay, learning new, nonverbal games (verbal communication is a barrier), running, and playing with tadpole larve. Although it resembled the first afternoon in activity, our relationship had changed. I was now a mentor, a touch of love. Pleasantly tired following an afternoon of play, we sadly had to say good-bye. Our hands were cold from a snow ball fight and we were trying to make one another cringe by tricking the other into letting us touch their face or hands. I went for Ho Yun's face one last time, but  he forgot that my hands were cold. Rather, he nestled into my hands and took a deep breath before he remembered to pull away. It was a touching moment. One where I wished more than anything that I could give him more.
      These moments with Ho Yun reminded me of the difficult place I am in, temporary living in a country where my time is drawing to an end. I am excited for the future, however functioning within transitions puts an interesting dynamic into my relationships. I yearn to not be another person in Ho Yun's life that just leaves. In addition, I am working to stay present with my students and friends, strengthen our bonds. I hope that once I leave, seeing I will not be returning, that Korea will not be a memory, something I did that it is now over, but a moment in my life where I built a community that continues into the future. I have been blessed with these experiences in the past and have faith that this will be no different.

Therapy 101: Blogging

      Sitting down to write my blog this past weekend reminded me how much I truly enjoy keeping a blog. There is something special about documenting my time in order to share with others. As I sift through my thoughts to compile something pertinent to share I find myself desiring to share everything. I view the days following a post through the voice of my blogging. What would be captivating to share with those around me? Thus, waiting weeks between posts creates a sense of despair where I can't possibly give justice to all of the moments I experience.
      There is a yearning inside of me to capture the now familiar sights, sounds, smells, and faces to help people at home step into my experience. Early on in my stay I recall saying to Natalie, "I don't feel like I have had that, "I am abroad, lonely and discovering a lot about myself" moment I hear everyone speak of as they return from their travels." Although I have not had this exact experience, over the past few weeks I have noticed that my ability to engage in a larger society and function within a working world has, indeed, been transformed. Every week I face a new, steep learning curve. The lessons I learn range from a wide variety of areas including: teaching methodology, personal space, time management, spiritual fulfillment, and community involvement. These revelations are usually revealed to me in the early mornings as I greet the day with a "jaunt" in the country.
      After I crawl out of bed and into my running clothes I am ready to run off my grogginess with the rising sun. These first steps remind me that I am in a new land. I begin by passing school children, dressed in uniforms, making their way to school. As I leave the school zone I have one more street to cross before it is just me and the fields. The wait at the intersection, usually filled with more jumping jacks than I would prefer, is consumed with thoughts of the passing cars; Where are they going? What do they think of me? When a break in traffic occurs I sprint across the road and I am free. On the way out, I assess the spring planting. I note what new plots that have been tilled, wonder if the thaw has happened, and observe progress on the bridge. These thoughts are interspersed with a reflection of my previous days, friends, and teaching that lie ahead. Most mornings I loose track of time sometime between the hills and the dog farm, yes dog farm. Once I am brought back, I swiftly turn around, turn on my audio book or music and head for the apartment line. This part of my run is the most pivotal because it is as this time that I become truly thankful for my position. There have been many hard moments over the weeks, but the peace of the country, the energy of running, and the cityscape help me see outside of myself and the "bubble" I have created.
      Not only is the way back full of speed, thanksgiving, and quick thoughts of how I can get ready fast enough to meet Natalie at the corner in fifteen minutes, but it is often graced by my "friend" who is driving to town on her motorized scooter. The melting snow, and warming weather has brought a new friend into my life. Though, we aren't able to communicate, we share a bond. I believe I provide her with humor. Think about it, a blonde, foreign woman running in the country. And she provides me with an appreciation for my elders and a gratitude for my mobility. I can run faster than her scooter!
      Without these moments in the morning I fear I would not have the same outlook on life that I do. I might not be able to stay out late at night, or to see as much of the different neighborhoods as I desire, but I can grow in stature and appreciation for what I have in front of me each day. My wish for you is that you too have a space that provides reflection, in addition to physical and emotional growth. I know that I would not be able absorb my surroundings and keep dreaming if I did not. Please, don't stop dreaming regardless of your age, job, or situation. There is always hope.

March Madness

      It is Sunday today and for the second time in the past two months there is a quiet lull over the city as rain spatters down. This rainy Sunday has come as a gentle reprieve after a hectic week of work and a beautiful Saturday at a baseball game. (Being American I took for granted that baseball is a  great "American" past time. Therefore Jason, from S. Africa, had never experienced the game. It was a joy to introduce him to the sport. He learned a lot... it is not a baseball square, but a baseball diamond!!)  As I look back over the past two months I feel blessed to have had many wonderful experiences.
      As February came to an end so did my school year. The academic year in a Hagwon (private school in Korea) runs from the first of March to the first of March. The end of the school year came fast, with excited seven year olds ready to leave Wonderland for the "big" elementary school. It was hard to see my first class of students leave. We had grown accustomed to one another and comfortable in teaching, mood, and games. As I transitioned into a new school year (one day later) I remembered, very quickly that this comfort occurs only after a few weeks/months of hard work. Currently, I am settling into a new schedule.  In the mornings I teach six and seven year olds, finishing with elementary school children in the afternoon. It nice to end the day with students who have more cognitive abilities. I still find peace in teaching, but miss working with older student. The gentle hugs, bubbling excitement, and eager minds help to remedy this whenever I feel I need a little something more.
      Beyond school I have started to practice yoga again. Over the past few months a studio has opened in my neighborhood. Natalie, Gayeon and I went to inquire. The studio is wonderful. It is conveniently located between my house and school and focuses on therapy yoga. Unlike dance classes that I tried in December, yoga is something I look forward to at the end of every day. There is a serenity in the space, accompanied by a grace exuded by my instructor. The women helps rejuvenate my spirit, all the while challenging me to do head stands, shoulder stands, and warrior poses. In addition, it is a nice activity to share with Gayeon and Natalie. It helps us to continue to foster a relationship outside of work.
      Not only have Natalie, Gayeon and I began practicing yoga together, we have also started to go on many excursions. This past weekend we traveled to Insadong, an eclectic, artsy neighborhood in Seoul. We embarked in the late afternoon, allowing time to clean, sleep, and run. Once we arrived we meandered through the various vendors, dreamed of tea sets we would like to have in our houses one day, and enjoyed delicious cuisine. Spending time on the weekends leaving the city reminds me that there is much of Korea I have not seen. I was blessed to spend my first few months in the outdoors, going to Seoul, etc. However, these past few months I have been swept up in school, friends, and living that I have forgotten to be a tourist. I have planned many trips in the upcoming weeks. The next big one is a weekend in Jeju-do with Natalie, Gayeon, Patrick, and Jason. Jeju-do a beautiful island in the south. It will be my first time to the ocean! Amazing...
      The last tidbit of my daily life I would like to share today is a brief ode to taxi drivers. When the weather is poor, when it is late, or when I am a little lazy, I often find myself in taxis. They are a convenient and cheap mode of transportation. It took me a few months to be brave enough to interact with the drivers, as I was afraid to speak, and could only get in the general vicinity of my destination. This is no longer the case!! I now hail and navigate taxis with ease. The best part of taxis is not their convenience, but rather the men who drive them. Though there may be a language barrier, they are always eager to share a bit! They ask where I am from, make jokes about race cars, talk about their children, or poke fun at where I am going. I have found that these daily interactions are life-giving. I leave my friends, ready to unwind, only to find myself leaving the taxi with a smirk and story to share.