My sister studies baseball

About a week and a half ago I agreed to sit for an interview with two of my very bright young Korean pupils for the school newsletter.  The presses have run.  Marvel at the English language funneled through the Korean brain and then poured like concrete back into English to sit on these glossy never-bio-degrade pages forever.  Here are some excerpts of how they see me seeing myself. 

How many people are there in your family?

First, dad, he is a P.E. teacher for twenty years.  He used to play in his university.  Second, my mother she works in Sales for International Tea and Coffee.  She runs Marathons too.  I have a younger sister who is now studying baseball abroad in the United States.

What is your favorite subject and why?

History was my favorite during the last year of high.  The reason is that I was interested in the world., and had wonders about it.  Coming to Korea was my first step to the world.

How is Korea different from your homeland?

In Korea, there isn't much bread as Canada, and I miss them a lot.  People are different too In Canada, I can see a bunch of different races, but I rarely see them in Korea.  Well... lifestyles are somewhat similar.  People do the same thigs for the same reasons.  For culture, there are more things related to tradition.  Compared to Korean schools, Canadians schools wear less school uniforms.  Also, there are less regulations, so student can do whatever they want to do, such as dying their colour in green.

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Good night breads, I miss you.

Korean Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was a class of fine and intelligent Korean children who, pushed only by their love of education for education's sake, decided to enroll in volentary, suplimentary, English classes after school.  Their teacher was an ugly troll from Canada who always wore the same miss-buttoned shirt and sometimes drooled. 

One day the troll ambled into class on his impossibly bowing legs, babelling and drooling among other disgusting things.  The children treated him far better than he deserved, as they always did.

"Please share with us your knowledge for the day," they sang like ornate chimes.

"Humpty Dumpty," the troll spat, though the children did not flinch because they had a silent graceful strength. 

"Explain this please," and the children leaned closer when so many would have leaned away.

The troll went on to explain, in poor grammar and syntax that even the children could tell was a butchering of an already slovenly language, all about Humpty Dumpty: his climb up the wall and subsiquent fall, the conern and failure of the King's horses and men and the fact that he was an egg.

The children were deferencial beyond a fault, but as the troll closed his story they were filled with righteous purpose and spoke like a volley of cannons.

"That is preposterous.  No Korean King would ever waste time with an egg.  Our royalty had a sense of priority and this story offends their memory and our young minds." 

With these brave words the troll was vanquished to his slimey cavern and, unimpeded, the children mastered English by the following Tuesday.

 

Iron Maiden or...

My after school class starts at 3:40, but I won't know how many students will be in attendance until 4.  The foolish ones who come on time are subjected to my poor tastes via youtube.  I am an utter failure as a DJ.  In terms of recall I am nearly unable to list twenty songs without being reduced to Iron Maiden or 90's pop.  It was in tribute to the sour taste of middle school nostalgia that I queued up this tower of power: Everybody (Back Street's Back)

There reaction?  Lyrically, acoustically, they love it.  Visually these eighth graders were so frightened by the Thriller ripped costumes that they covered their eyes and demanded I minimize it.  When I refused, one girl threw up and the lady-janitor followed me back to the class when she caught me rifling through her closet for paper towels.

Eat your vegitables children, mind your parents.  Backstreet's back hiding under your bed, alright?