I survived my second day in Korea. It was fairly simple actually. I spent most of the day parading around for my new online course and then ate some scrumptious barbecue with Jim. From what I can tell these are the elements of your typical day as an ESL instructor. It's all about the free time. And there's so much of it. I think as the days go by I'll get a great head start on organizing my classes; put a dent into my little writing experiment; and venture past my 10 block radius of comfort.
Since I am all about streching my boundaries, that is exactly what I will be doing tomorrow night. That's right. You guessed it. Tomorrow I will be accompanying some Korean students for a night on the town. I am not really sure where we're going - I have no idea what they're saying - so I figure it'll be just fine and dandy and lots of laughs. Well, more like four. The rest of my chuckles are reserved for my living situation. Did I tell you I am the only person living in this new building they've built for teachers? It's quite funny. I look out over the Korean skyline and there is not a single sound. I'm talking nothing here. No helicopters, kids screaming, sirens, nothing. It's just the hum of the fluorescent bulbs above me.
The whole scene makes me feel like I'm in some futuristic space station. And, in fact, some of the teachers have joked that this living situation is very much like one.
"We work in the same building we teach at?" an instructor guffawed. "That's a space station."
"Mmmm," I said. "I do like space stations."
And that's the truth. I have no problem teaching where I live. I have nothing to hide. I'm me. Through and through. If someone wants to keep tabs on what I do, then that's their business. I'm living mine. I'm an astronaut. There are repairs to be made. Solar panels to reconfigure. I don't have time to waste when I'm manning my very own space station.