Training Day

June 25-27

My first day of training at the school began rather auspiciously… as all my days in Korea have so far. I woke up extra early and got prepared, since I didn’t actually know where the school was, and I was expecting a lengthy search (that’s how I roll here in Korea). But Damon came to my door bright and early, only when I went to answer it, I COULDN’T GET IT OPEN. Even the doors in Korea are hard to use. After literally minutes of fumbling, I finally got it open (the trick: push, unlock, then turn and pull). So we go out on the street, and Henna is there. I guess she didn’t want to come in and say hi – or maybe she did and got impatient and left while I tried to open the door. Either way, there she was, so the three of us set off to school. I watch some classes in the morning, and none of them are the ones I’m actually going to be teaching, which I find pointless, and entirely as I expected it to be. Eventually the fellow I’m replacing, Tom, arrives, and Henna takes us out to lunch at a place across from the school.

So we have to take our shoes off at the restaurant (and I even knew, this time), and sit on the floor to eat. Keeping in mind that I’m fairly enormously tall, its not the most comfortable position, since the table is about six inches off the floor. Also, what we’re eating, Henna tells me is pigs feet, and then she says “Oh, wait, no, it’s not pigs feet.” Which leads me to think that its pigs feet. It tastes ok, but still. Pigs feet. Then back to school to watch more classes. Uneventful, all in all.

Day 2 of training though, wasn’t at school but at the main YBM Sisa building in Jongno-(3)-ga. [Sidebar: I think it’s weird and wonderful that this part of a city has a number in its name. WTF???] The scary part is, I have to get there on my own. I find the bus (after I asked everyone at the school about 100 times), and made it to the station, which I probably would have missed except for every bus in the city is there. I went down into the subway, and (by sheer luck, I’m sure) chose the right direction, and even got off at the right stop. And I even found the right building! But then I went in the door, and ended up in a bank or something. But then I found the right door, and wandered around the place until someone stopped me and asked if I was there for training. This fellow, it turns out, is Sam, who does the training. As far as I can tell, he is Chinese, and he studied English and Chinese in America, and now he lives in Seoul and speaks perfect Korean.

The other people at training are from Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, USA, England, somewhere Eastern European (he was to creepy to get close enough to ask where), and then two of us from Truro. Ha. What are the odds? I actually learn here, as opposed to watching classes at school, and everything is going well, until…. The lunch break OF DEATH. New Zealand, South Africa, America, and Truro x2 found this restaurant called Pent House, and I ordered something called Dancing Fry Noodle, on account of noodles and fried anything are basically the best foods available. The catch, though, is the dancing. This ENORMOUS platter of noodles comes, and it is COVERED with these huge fish flakes, which MOVE. So THAT’s where the name comes from? That is gross as hell. I try to scrape all the fish to the side, but it’s permeated the noodles. So for the rest of the afternoon, I had crazy stomach grumbles (was it still moving in there?), and I felt like I had fish scales all in me.

The rest of training at the main office, and the third day at school all passed terrifyingly, and I took the most enormous stack of books back to the motel to start planning lessons for my first day…