Familiarity
By Katherine Moncure ETA ’16-’17 Each morning is the same routine, but after five months there are still days I wake up forgetting which country I’m in. My host mother yells to wake up my host sisters, and they cry back in resistance. Some mornings their screams fill up the entire apartment, funneling out more energy than it would take for them stand up and eat breakfast. As I pull a dress over my head, I wonder what would happen if my host mother just left them, if they slept and missed school. Would they be angry at her? Would they blame her for that too? I picture my own mom sticking her cold hands down my warm, sleepy neck when I was younger. She would giggle and pick up an arm, flopping my limp hand against my face before saying goodbye for the day. Mom let me go back to sleep and get up on my own. She left for work at 6am, an hour before I walked out the door. At breakfast, I tread lightly and smile. I say good morning to my host father and he gives a deadpan reply as his wife pours coffee for him. He puts a hand up in the air, “Okay okay, stop stop stop.” He takes a sip and says something to his wife that I do not understand. She pours some hot water in his drink – the coffee is too strong. Neither of them are pleased. The overeager warmth my host parents used to show evaporated with the summer, and my small attempts at conversation are met with thinly veiled indifference. This morning, like many others, we are running late. And yet, my host sister sits calmly at the table, slowly chewing as I rush in one direction to grab my coat, and another to get my bag. I’m not sure why, but my host father always seems frustrated that I am ready before anyone else, and I wait for my host sister before we sprint to the bus together. “What.” He spits out the word as I pick up my scarf near his seat. “What are you doing.” It is not a question. “Nothing,” I gently perform the response. The walls in the apartment feel hollow and thin, as if leaning my body against them would make them crumple. After five months here, I don’t know what they’re made of any more than I know the people who live within them. I’m inside a regal school bus. Purple, embroidered tassels and rainbow lights line the edges of the ceiling, and a television at the front plays an advertisement for kimchi refrigerators. Teenage girls in uniform jackets fill the seats silently – the one next to me slumps forward with her eyes closed. Through a damp window haze, the cars outside glow as they weave between traffic. In a few hours, this will all be covered in rain. My students do not talk on the bus and neither do I. Instead, I stare at box-shaped high-rises and giant, hangul signs that overtake storefronts. Yellow leaves from small gingko trees are scattered on the sidewalks, and a two-story portrait of a bride covers the façade of a wedding hall. As we pass more buildings, I sound out Korean letters in my head: tah-ee… tah-ee-uh puh-ro. Oh. Tire Pro. When I arrive at school, the desks in my classroom have been rearranged. Teachers cleared the room for a test while I was gone, and it is remarkably tidier now. I spend twenty minutes pushing desks back into groups, sighing as loose wheels and entire legs fall off. I have just enough time to roll up the window shades before students stream in shouting, “Hello teacher!” I am already exhausted, but I smile and shout hello back. At the end of the day, it is pouring outside. I search for the umbrella I keep between my desk and the wall. It’s gone. ______________________________________________________________________________ I tiptoe to a coffee shop a few blocks away. My feet still get wet. In a country crowded with chains and franchises, this café is small and unassuming, tucked into a corner behind an apartment complex. It seems to be run entirely by one young woman, who says hello as I push open the door. Today she drinks coffee with a friend. This is the third time I’ve been here since I discovered the place last week. Our communication is a lot of guesswork, stilted phrases, and hand gestures, but she always gives me a plate of tiny cookies with my drink. Even though I don’t know her name, she looks at me and smiles as though I am an old friend. My preferred spot is next to the window, and today the cold, wet air lingers beside me. After an hour of working on my computer, she brings me a mug of hot water with herbal tea leaves. I hold it close to my face and lean back into the chair, letting sweet steam rise onto my skin. It reminds me of my mom’s mug collection – she has one cup with no handle, and in winter she wraps her fingers around it to keep them warm. When I explained to my students that my hometown has twenty thousand people, fifteen times smaller than Iksan, their mouths hung open in shock. “Teacher! How?” some of them asked. I think about the carefully planned, colonial style buildings and lamp posts at home, the maple leaves that hang in the fall air. These days, I find myself aching for things in the United States that I never even thought I liked. The garish, red Sheetz gas stations that dot the drive between Oberlin and Connecticut. The purple-faced Phantom Fireworks signs that loom on billboards near state borders. A sky outlined by thousands of black branches that spread out like veins in the winter. English. I think about
Student Interview
by Janine Perri, ETA 2015-2016 Originally published by Reach the World, December 4, 2015 Bo Seung is one of my most motivated students and one of the best English speakers in my high school. He’s been involved with several Fulbright-related activities, including YDAC (debate conference) and the Fulbright English Program, during which I had my first teaching experiences during orientation. Here is a brief snapshot into his life. Introduction: Kang Bo Seung (English name, Bosely Kang) is one of the students I teach at Gimhae Jeil High School. He is in the second grade, or the equivalent of a junior in high school. Bo Seung loves learning about new places and cultures and hopes to travel to many places around the world. I’ll write these responses from his perspective. What do you eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner?: I eat meals like kimchi. We eat many suppers with rice. What is your house like?: I live in an apartment, but I want to live in a house. There is no garden, but I want one. I have my own room. It is covered in all blue. What chores do you have at home?: I sweep the floors after my mom drains the dust (vacuums). What jobs do your parents have?: My mom works for an insurance company. She is a branch manager of her insurance company. My dad sells cars. What time does school start, and what time do you go home?: School starts at 7:50 AM. It finishes at 10:00 PM. How do you get to school? Are you allowed to go to school by yourself?: I take a private taxi to get to school. When I go home, I take a bus. I do it by myself. Where do you eat lunch? What is your favorite food?: It’s different each day. I eat in the school cafeteria. My favorite food is kimchijjigae (kimchi soup). What language do you speak at school? How do you say “Hello” in your language?: I speak Korean, Chinese and English at school. In Korean, hello is “Annyeonghaseyo.” What are some common kids’ names at your school?: Kim is a really common family name. Lee is really common, too. My family’s name (Kang) is not as common. What subjects do you study in school, and which one is your favorite?: My favorite subject is English and we learn many subjects. For example, I learn mathematics, geology, Korean, Chinese, Japanese, music, art and ethics. What is your homework like?: There is no homework! What do you like to do after school? Do you have a favorite sport or game?: There’s no time, so I do what I can do. I don’t like sports that much, but I like games. My favorite is The Sims. Who is your favorite famous person?: I like Adele! What kinds of music do you listen to?: I like pop, but I don’t like k-pop because the Korean singers don’t have meaningful lyrics. What would you like to be when you grow up?: I want to be a flight attendant for Emirates. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?: I’d like to go to Croatia.I heard that the sunset is really beautiful. What do you know or think about the United States?: They are the first country in the world! What questions do you have for kids in the United States?: How do you study? I know it is different with Korean students and American students.
Thanksgiving Poem
Thanksgiving There’s something serene in the welling of tears A calm in the heaviness that starts in my throat And is anchored in my gut Peace of mind comes from my furrowed brow Inhaling the cold, still loneliness Exhaling their distant warmth Eyes closed, I give thanks Knowing that somewhere, An unfathomable number of miles away There are people whose chests also ache Whose eyes won’t be dry Who miss me too. Maeve Wall is 2015-2016 ETA at Sadaebucho Elementary School in Daegu.