Whats the important thing?

That's the important thing.

After a somewhat grueling month-long job I had accepted since I couldn't get a winter camp (twas' 'grueling' because I had to take the subway to work as opposed to stumbling lazily across the street like I had for the past year) I am officially unemployed. My teaching career is now, for the time being and to the relief of many, hung to dry indefinitely (a la Saddam Hussein). I didn't become the professor I envisioned myself to be, an inspiring motivator the students craved (I was more like Alec Baldwin delivering the ABC speech in Glengarry Glen Ross - but with more swearing). I never once bothered to reveal my thoughts about English teaching to the young eager minds a la Robert Duvall in Apocalypse Now:

"You hear that? Do you hear that? English, kids. Nothing else in the world sounds like that. I love the sound of English in the morning. You know, one time I had a class of 13 elementary children, for one hour speaking only Korean. When it was all over I looked up. I didn't hear one of 'em, not one kimchi lovin' body speaking English. The sound, you know that tired exhale after failing to please a woman in bed, the whole classroom. Sounded like... failure. Someday this class is gonna end..."

So now I've got 2 weeks to write the great American novel, correspond with my grandparents, and mentally prepare myself for coming back to Canada. 'They' call it reverse culture-shock. Suddenly everyone speaks English, no one stares at you wide-eyed anymore, there are products galore to satisfy any craving, everyones a little older - and life is pretty much exactly how you left it, albeit with a thin layer of dust waiting to be blown off by the familiar "Oh man, what do I do now?" anxious sigh. But, I am still much farther ahead now than I was so many months ago.

And that's the important thing.

The woman who had hired me back in late-December for this month-long job was unfortunately one of those people who would have to undergo serious sensitivity-training were they in any position of power in Canada. I could tell before I actually started the job that we would not mix well as she was obviously someone who loved the dominating power of her job (whereas I live my life like the noble monkey who immediately 'presents' itself ass-up when feeling remotely threatened). I'd even heard from others that the school was on several 'Blacklists' for this sole reason. A girl I know in my neighborhood who was once employed there warned me, "Laugh at everything she says- especially when its mean-spirited- never talk back, and act like shes the greatest thing since scrambled eggs". I was worried and frightened but like the crack-addicted prostitute who wearily pulls on her well-worn, knee-high pink stiletto boots, who is well-versed with the 'dance for me monkey!'-like humiliations that come with the territory...I too needed the money.

And that's the important thing.

Since I was a 'teacher' hired only for the winter intensives, my classes were small and filled with a huge amount of material to be thrown at the kids, oblivious to their plaintive cries of "teacheruh...no understanduh!", and "teacheruh...one game puhleazeuh? I forget the sound of my own laughteruh!" (accent on the 'uh'). I was to be on a different schedule than the other 7 foreign teachers but as the majority of Hagwons basically operate the same way, I knew where I ranked the second my foot stepped in the door.

The order of importance in an average ESL hagwon falls like this:

1- The owner (usually the director as well)
2- The manager (the villain of this tale)
3- The head Korean teacher
4- The Korean teachers
5- The ajumma (older, tough Korean woman) who often prepares lunch for the students and appears in their nightmares.
6- The bus drivers
7- The head foreign teacher
8- The students (also operating under their own strict hierarchy)
9- The photocopier
10-The guy who fixes the photocopier daily
11-The foreign teachers (the men above the women)
12- The communal slippers
13- The temporary (being paid under-the-table) foreign teacher.

So on January 2nd, I showed up an hour early and donned the communal slippers tossed carelessly in the corner (next to the garbage). Excited at the idea of wearing slippers at work I made a mental note to pack my Ms.Kitty pajamas for the following day.

I also wore my new glasses as if to say, "don't you DARE make me take these off".

After brief introductions to the awe-struck Koreans milling about (I had coiffed my faux-hawk to a staggering height that very morning) I got the gist of what I was expected to do, confirmed how much money I was to make (while instructed under penalty of death not to reveal this amount to the harder-working foreign teachers) and received my schedule. It was a surprisingly easy one; only 4 hours each day, with 45 minutes alloted for each class and a 5-minute break in between for me to run back to the small closet where 13 teachers are crammed like...well, clowns!

So I 'taught' and took my 'breaks' according to the schedule and tried to draw as little attention to myself as possible. Knowing that I was not under any contract and constantly worried that my fare would jump out of the cab before paying me, I didn't slack off. I usually spent the 5 minutes between classes trying to understand the new course for 'higher-levels' that the hagwon had recently purchased (but not fully paid for). It was designed by a young American guy from a company up in Seoul and my hagwon decided to test it with me and some younger guinea pigs. The intensive course was designed for middle-school children and was broke up into segments for debating, presentation skills, essay-writing skills, analytical thinking, and critical reading (I thought this meant that the kids were to read with furrowed brows).

Naturally my class was unable to complete full sentences, much less write an essay causing me to fall instantly behind the absurdly structured schedule. After about a week of panicking and acting like everything was going wonderfully ("little Lily wrote the most wonderful thesis woven from the Harry Potter novels titled "Hagrid- Pedophile or Platonic?") I was forced to present my problems, a la timid monkey, to the evil manager who I will refer to as Samnu (not her real name - but in fact the name used for Satan in Central-Asia). To make a long blog short, she accused me of being inept and stupider than I appeared. She indicated this by merely looking at her co-workers, hands in a 'why me?' gesture while raising her painted-on eyebrows rapidly (like she was trying to quickly dry them). It was looking to be a long month. But at $30 an hour - I was willing to put up with it.

And that's the important thing.

So as you may have gleaned from this, I felt a little stressed at times and needed that 5-minute break like a toilet requires flushing. Although since I was the 'outsider' I watched when and for how long I took these breaks, as Samnu would often burst into the teachers room unannounced (having nothing to do) before condescendingly crying "teachers, you have classes to teach!". I was always careful, but one day either due to my fault or Samnus own faulty internal clock (I fear for whoever she is dating when her biological one starts beeping) disaster struck. Apparently I had left one class 3 minutes early and was summoned to Samnus lair (follow the bones) where I was chastised and berated in front of the constantly-present, awe-struck Korean teachers (like a scared dogs tail my faux-hawk was rapidly drooping to their amusement). Samnu ranted and raved about how she doesn't appreciate 'her' teachers abusing break privileges, not following 'her' schedule, 'abusing' the students time (as opposed to just 'abusing' them) blah blah blah. It actually became pretty comical for all as every time I tried to walk out after muttering "so sorry" she would pause a moment and mentally gather, chew, swallow and re-vomit the same diarrhea she had just spewed at my reddening face moments before. When she had finally finished, she licked her lips greedily and ordered me to "go" as I was now "late for my class.........again".

Wait...late....again?! I thought I had left early and that was the problem!

But I needed the cash more than I needed my dignity - as self-respect cannot be exchanged for hard cash as easily as US dollars when traveling. 'I am doing this to travel' I reminded myself.

And that's the important thing.

So all was quiet on the Eastern front for a week or so until one day I squeezed my way into the cramped, clown car/teacher room only to see the teachers cowering in the backseat as Samnu was stretched out lazily in the front. Upon seeing me, she stood up and we had this conversation - ver batim.

Samnu- I'm sorry Ken, did you forget the talk we had last week already about lateness?

Ken- (holding my books tightly and my bowels even tighter) Of course not Samnu, I am just starting my break now.

Samnu- (raising her eyebrows and nodding her head vigorously) Oh, you are? Okay...yeah...I guess you just make your own schedule right?

*nervous chuckles began around the room much to Samnus delight.

Ken- (stammering) no...I'm just going by the clock on the wall just behind you

Samnu - (turning her head 180 degrees without moving the rest of her body Exorcist-style) Uh-huh...oh, I'm sorry I guess I can't tell time can I? Yes, my watch must be broken - yours looks pretty expensive can I take a look please?

*Some teachers chuckled at this point because having never uttered the word 'please' Samnu coughed and a missing teachers shin-bone fell out of her mouth, falling free to the floor.

Ken- I am sorry, I thought I got 5 minutes...

Samnu- Well yes you do....I know you do in fact, as I did make the schedule. But you missed your break - don't know why - I love having breaks personally, I need them since I work all day and you only work 4 hours - you were scheduled to be back in class 3 minutes ago.

Ken- (playing the baffled teenager who doesn't know whether he is actually guilty of looking at pornography on the school computer or not) I don't know what to say! My schedule says I have a break n-n-now.

Samnu- (making the running gesture) well, why don't you go r-r-run and g-g-g-get the schedule if you remember what it looks like. Go on, I'll wait.

So I ran to my classroom, grabbed up the paper and to my great relief I was correct and Samnu the Terrible was wrong. I ran back into the teachers 'room' and noticed all the teachers had slowly gathered their books and materials, themselves risking her wrath for lateism, wanting to see if David could beat Goliath once more. I handed her the schedule and after reading it briefly she looked up and shaking her head smiling said...

Samnu - Ohhhhh.... I was thinking of the SUMMER schedule, and its WINTER now isn't it everyone?

Everyone- "Oh yes"...."You are SO right!"...."I love Christmas!"...."Ha Ha Ha Ha...Bravo Samnu! Hip-Hip-Hooray!"

Samnu- (looking me up and down and laughing heartily) So why are you still standing here? have a seat, enjoy your break...(looking at the wall clock) you've only got about a minute left though.

And she left the room. I was still alive. Ready to teach another day. One step closer to getting my fat wad of bills.

And thats the important thing.

And so on my last day I collected the students work, wrote comments on their report cards that Samnu disapproved of and made me re-write some again. On one students named Matthew I had scrawled, "Through no effort of my own Matthews Korean-speaking has improved drastically, if not his English. If he spent as much time on his school work as he did looking out the window and falling off his chair, he'd be teaching English and not learning it!"). Samnu did not laugh, even though the student had upon reading it himself (well, translated).

Later on in the day, after marking speaking tests that I had never given (no time to do it), and taping together ripped pieces of homework (thanks Matthew!) I handed in several of the students gigantic, mostly unfinished or done-at-the-last-minute workbooks. Samnu cursed me to high hell for not having the 'brain' to mark them and correct them. As an example she showed me her head teachers recently submitted workbooks (much thinner than mine), with her careful corrections.

Samnu- Isn't she smart? You see why shes our head teacher?

Ken- Yes Samnu, she is very smart.

Samnu- I have to mark these now since you have classes to teach. Thank you for this.

Ken- You're welcome Samnu.

Samnu- You're late for class again.

Ken- And again, I am sorry Samnu.

Samnu- See me at the end of the day.

Ken- Like I see you in my nightmares nightly?

Samnu- Excuse me?

Ken- Excuse me?

So at 6pm, I wished the other teachers well - hid all of my garbage that I didn't know what to do with in a drawer and went to Samnu, who gave me a fat envelope with a sarcastic:

Samnu- You should be paying me for assisting you today.

Ken- (grinning stupidly) Can I count this somewhere with you watching?

Samnu- (looking at the roof, exhaling) Fine.

Needless to say, I lost count far too many times and ended up literally, taking the money and running to the closest subway where I surreptitiously counted the 10,000won ($10) bills carefully. After about 20 minutes I was delighted to discover that Samnu the Terrible had paid me in full.

And that's the important thing. Isn't it?