The stranger

Yesterday was an unexciting day at school. All of my classes were canceled for test preparation. One of my teachers noted that her students couldn't focus in the English classroom, which is true but disappointing. So I set about cleaning the storage room that had become a dumping pile of English materials and past student work. Incidentally, this is what an empty classroom looks like.

On my walk home I had to move out of the way of a student on a bicycle. As I did so, an old man and maybe his slightly younger son approached me. He gave me a hearty smile and asked me who I was, etc.; next he put his hands on my chin like I was his long-lost grandson and wished me goodbye. That was the most intimate moment I've ever had with a complete stranger. I have learned that Koreans are touchy-feely people though. I heard today that a Korean is being sued somewhere in the US for touching a stranger.

Today I taught 2 first grade classes and 3 kindergarten classes. I did my usual routine for meeting young students. I introduce myself and try to catch them by saying or doing silly things. Next I juggle a lot plastic fruit and have them say the words as they fly through the air or fall to the floor, which they find endlessly hilarious. I pass a soft object around and have them say, "My name is ..." We do some total physical response, like "stand up, sit down, clap clap, tuuuurrrn," etc. Then we sing songs like "ABC song" and "Daddy Finger." For the most part young children love to sing. These kids are super adorable, but their energy washes over me like a wave. But it is even more exhausting when you have to yell at them because they aren't yelling for you! I really need to get some ear plugs. And now with these new introductions, I hear my name EVERYWHERE: "Ughh, OH, HELLO CUHRISUTEN!!" they shout at me. It is light years from conversational English, but at least they seem to like me. Actually, I think they are just fascinated with petting my arm hair.

I recently finished reading Pride and Prejudice. The challenging writing style of Jane Austen has been coloring my thoughts and language recently. And it has caused me to dwell upon the expectations involved with relationships. Today I finished The Giver, a short and thought-provoking story about a boy who is chosen to learn the horrific details about his myopic Utopian culture. I highly recommend this book, but I think it could have been much longer. Earlier, I read Number the Stars, also by Lois Lowry. It is about the Danish Jews escaping to Sweden when the NAZI's took over the country in WWII. It's like Anne Frank, but fictional with a relatively happy ending.