Palmtree Contemplations

Six weeks ago, I made the decision to leave Korea at Christmas. It was a hard day. I once said that leaving a job uses a lot of language similar to a break up. I had to say, "This isn't you, it's me," and "I am so sorry to do this to you," and "This isn't fair to you," all while crying my eyes out in front of my administrator. She was very understanding, thankfully. We agreed I would leave at Christmas and I began making plans. Two weeks later, they told me they had found another teacher to take my place mid-November. I would be leaving a month earlier than planned, with a lot less money than I wanted. It seemed like the best decision, though. Stress and Lyme disease don't work well together. There have been days when my panic attacks keep me from going out the door, days when I feel I will pass out during class, and days when I forget the day or my students' names, and cannot make out what people are saying. It is best for everyon...

Jungle It is Creative Expression day, which is the fancy term for art class. I am excited because today we are only drawing and coloring, not trying to make bi-planes, origami, or even- heaven help us -clay figurines. No, today will be the easiest of assignments: drawing and coloring a desert caravan. I quickly load pictures of camels when I come in, and even show the kids photos of the desert so they understand the setting. Then, I find a video of camels making funny gargling and groaning noises. Suddenly, as I'm loading the video, the unthinkable happens. Bella begins crying. There are different types of crying in children. There's the short, hiccuping sobs accompanied by a couple of tears. There's pretend crying which fools some people (particularly guys who don't know how to handle any type of crying) and there's also "I-want-my-mommy-I-just-peed-my-pants" crying. What Bella is doing can only be described as explosive crying. It comes out of nowhe...

I am walking up this mountain and Each step is colder than the last. Do You see me where I fall Finding here no relief, No warmth, No love, Nothing but sensations whipping past? I am walking up this mountain and Each shattering thought is of You. Do You see me where I climb Fighting the frozen wind, For breath, For strength, For a bit of grace to fall into? I am walking up this mountain and The blackened valley is calling. Do You see me where I stand Looking out and down to The ice, The rocks, The chasm I'd meet in my falling? I am walking up this mountain and My loving hands are frosted over. Do You see me where I hide While the blizzard kills My words, My notes, My songs with cold exposure. I am walking up this mountain and The blue drum in my chest keeps beating. Do You see me where I kneel In the hardened snow with A cross, A map, And a compass to mark Your leading? I am walking up this mountain And I will not stop until I see You.

One need not cry out very loudly; He is nearer to us than we think.”  -Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God- Bronchitis is, strictly speaking, a nasty disease. No matter how you look at it, the whole fact of nasty mucus coating your throat, lungs, and nose cannot be avoided. Days spent in bed, which should be happy times of required rest, are not happy at all, just dreadful and exhausting. After all, how are you supposed to sleep when you're coughing every twenty minutes? Along with bronchitis, another cold and cough have settled in, or perhaps they are just cousins visiting the bronchitis and will soon have to leave. Regardless, I am a bit worn out from all their familial merrymaking. As a result of said bronchitis, I have now officially taught kindergarten and elementary students with no voice. It was a bit like practicing silence, though in this case it was under the duress of teaching 10 hours a day, not during one of those weekends at college when we al...

First and foremost, my Lyme is acting up, which means that the entire bus trip and subway ride to Hongdae are both discomfiting. Lyme comes in waves sometimes, and it makes me wants to stay in bed nursing my aching body into some sort of equilibrium. The hair appointment has been made, though, and I can't stand to cancel and keep looking like the same me for another week. It's a funny thing. With everything around me and inside me maintaining a state of flux, it follows that something physical and semi permanent needs to change, too. Hence, the hair appointment and the 50 minute subway ride to Hongdae. When I arrive, I cannot find the hair salon. I walk up one side of the street, then cross and walk up the  otherside. No luck, even with directions a friend gave me. A clown on stilts smiles down at me, holding out an orange balloon flower. I smile back, take the flower, and proceed to get directions. The Hair and Joy salon is full of other expats, which is a good sign. My ha...

"Since love is work, the essence of nonlove is laziness." -The Road Less Traveled-  I remember the first time I read this quote. I was sitting on top of Mr. Knightley (my car) at City Lake enjoying a golden, green, summer day. Korea was a month away and I had very little to do except teach some piano lessons and bid long farewells to all my friends. That day at the lake, I watched ducks in the pond, listened to men with trucks fishing to my left, and felt so certain that I understood this idea of love being work. I didn't. I don't know that I still completely fathom its implications, or am properly acting on the knowledge of what it means to really love. I am learning, though, and that is a good thing. I have been thinking about this quote a lot as it pertains to teaching. My fellow English teachers and I work 50+ hours a week, teaching 11 classes three days a week and 10 on the other two. Every day is full of moments and decisions that are surely defining and wort...

Whose idea was this? Kids are hard enough to interest as it is. Try making them sit in class and communicate in another language. I've never taught full classrooms before. It's exhausting. There's this one kindergarten kid who hates me. I know because every day in class he screams at the top of his lungs just to make me jump. This is a common occurrence. He spits in my face at least once a class period when I kneel down to try and help him. He hits me in the chest with his little fists, and climbs on or under the table constantly. He calls me "poo" in English and in Korean every ten minutes. The hours are so long there is no time to figure things out. I meant to get a phone within my first week. I've been here for almost a month and still don't have a phone. So that's really working out. Whose idea was this again? I'm living with the Lyme disease diagnosis and it's awful. I can't eat anything with gluten, dairy, or sugar in it. I a...