Rice Cripsy Treats, aka Exotic American Cookie

An update 14 months into my life in South Korea.

A year has come and gone in the blink of an eye.

In that time, I've watched the baby roundness of my youngest students stretch out to become proper boys and girls. The teenagers and pre-teens, especially the boys, have shot up like reeds and now tower over me, whereas before, we literally saw eye to eye.

The little ones have gone from uttering single English words to stringing together whole sentences. The students who have gone from elementary school to middle school have done the exact opposite. Where there was the bubble of Korean/English conversation, there is now a frustrating quiet in the room. They stare at the floor, praying to be overlooked. Even when called upon, many continue to fixate at the spot on the Linoleum, refusing to speak.

I know it's tough being a Korean teenager. The hours are long, and the fun is nearly nonexistent. It's torture for everyone involved. But they don't have much of a way out, and I do.

As my contract at ECC reached its end at the beginning of June, I vowed to never teach Korean middle schoolers again. I mean, why put yourself through more hardship and mental anguish than necessary, right?

To be honest, the end of my first year in South Korea took me by surprise. I didn't have a plan. It wasn't the right time to start traveling. There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to stay at ECC -- not because the job was bad (though there are better), but because living with Steven, the roommate ECC stuck me with, was an entirely soul-sucking endeavor that no one should be forced to endure. And as for returning stateside? Well, the job market doesn't seem to have bounced back just yet.

Movin' on up

For a semi-young, female, North American already living in Korea, the jobs are easy to come by. I had half a dozen job interviews the first week I started my job hunt. A week later, I chose a job -- one that offered more money, better hours, in a better location than ECC, and best of all, my own apartment just minutes from the beach! It's just a studio, which is what most teachers have, but it has everything I need and then some, and I couldn't be happier here.

True to my word, I only teach elementary school-aged children in my job at I-Sponge -- a school with a potentially dubious background and perhaps some sketchy practices, but I'm getting paid regularly, so I'm not worrying about it. ECC is such a huge franchise with so many rules, and we were always hearing, "no," and "don't," so I'm embracing the more relaxed nature of I-Sponge, though I admit I miss the discipline of ECC. I'm pretty sure I'm the strictest teacher here, and the kids are quickly learning what acceptable behavior means to Nicole Teacher.

I have about 100 students, each of whom I see once I week. I'm the only foreign teacher at I-Sponge, though there are two more at our sister school downstairs, Pagoda Junior. So in all, there are nine Korean teachers, three Americans and a couple admin, in addition to Bossman Kim, a nutter who gives the Korean staff bi-weekly tongue lashings and raids everybody's snack stashes and the communal fridge.

I put in less than 14 teaching hours and a total of 28 hours of work each week at I-Sponge, and every once in a while, I wonder how and if I'm ever going to be able to go back to a 40-hour work week.

The dark side

I'm also supplementing my income with a job three mornings every week teaching adults at a community college of sorts. It's a vocational school for people who have university degrees and just want to focus on a certain area to increase their prospects in the job market. I'm one of three teachers (and the only foreigner) who teach the English for Tourism class. The 25 in the class study English all day, every day during the four-month term which ends this week, and I will really miss them.

Teaching adults has been a wonderful, new experience. It's a nice way to balance the kids, and I've made some lovely Korean friends though it. So what if having the job is wildly illegal, and I could potentially be deported if found out?

When living in Korea -- or anywhere really -- there are just some things you must put out of your head or they will drive you mad, and the legal practices of both the institutions I work for is one of those things.

Now, off to make rice crispy treats (aka, exotic American cookies) for our end-of-the-term party :)