January/Early february in 1000 words and pictures:
There’s a turtle loose in my apartment. I thought that the last survivor of my October pet impulse buy was long dead. He hadn’t look well and I buried my shame under a mountain of indifference.
Fast forward to two weeks later, when I finally decided to deal with the tank, and like an amphibian Jesus, my turtle was resurrected from the dead, looking up at me and asking me where the beef was.
This had come at a particularly traumatic moment in my life. I was so excited when I saw he was still alive. I felt like his new lease on life was like my new lease on Jeju, a chance to rejuvenate my spirits and be all that I could be. I was going to be a superior human being, taking chances, taking care of pets like never before, riding a motorcycle, etc etc.
Then I came home later that day and the turtle…was gone. He had disappeared. the bowl that I had left him in earlier that morning was filled with nothing but water and empty dreams. I searched for two hours combing as much of the floor as possible, but he was gone. The turtle had found himself too clever a hiding spot…and also most likely his final resting place.
On the other hand, there’s always the possibility that what I saw that morning was a divine vision, and my holy turtle had ascended to a greater plane of existence during the time I was pretending to teach English.
Either way, I won the ‘contest’ between three other co-workers to see whose turtle could last the longest. Sometimes it pays to buy in bulk!
In spite of irregular sleeping and eating schedules (fuck you, January. winter sucks), I still managed to lead a busy and semi-productive life, or least spent money as if I did. I made a second trip to Seoul (more on that later), played a bunch of frisbee, went on lots of walks, discovered more places in Seogwipo where I could get western-imitation food (NOT as easy task), observed the final weekends of some soon-to-be ex-expats up north in Jeju city, bought a new jacket (which nobody likes, even me because it doesn’t keep me warm), paid a pointless tax an a very important package, shaved a beard, grew it back, and even stole a magazine from Tom and Tom’s Coffee (shhhhh).
I also almost went to a Fire Festival…until I accidentally took a nap from 4 in the afternoon to 9 at night. Whoops!
Back at school, I’m starting to appreciate both the ease of my work and the plight of these poor kids, who have to sit through hours of mostly pointless education. But more importantly, I’m becoming much better at dealing with them and becoming, if not a role model, then at least someone better equipped to make their lives less miserable than they already are.
More then ever, my teaching ability and class management skills are directly related to the amount of coffee I’ve had that day, which isn’t really such a bad thing, since I can afford it and coffee readily available, in many different forms, all around the school.
When caffeinated, the sounds that students make irritate me less, and in fact, instead of getting frustrated, I can stay calm and quietly and casually deal with focusing a class so that I can actually teach them a lesson. Last week on a speaking quiz one of my classes did something along the lines of 95, 90, 95, 100, 100, 80, 90, 95 or something like. I’m kind of pulling those numbers out of my ass but not really. I was very proud of them, and it wasn’t really an easy lesson, either. Ordinal numbers are sometimes a hard concept to convey, but they had no issues with understanding that 12th is randomly spelled with an “f” and that there’s no “e” in 9th, among other things (it took FOREVER for a class a few months ago to get these finer points).
My students have rewarded my efforts at teaching by giving me a new ethnic identity every day. I was Mexican. Then I was Indian. Actually I think I was both Mexican and Indian at the same time, which is pretty cool. The culinary possibilities behind that mixed-ethnicity is definitely enticing.
I was also Italian (another class has apparently dubbed me “super mario”). But the most accurate description of me, as far as I’m willing to interpret it, is that I have a “black face.”
Which explains a lot. Why my boss thinks I have a bad reputation. Why Harold was the only person who thought my jokes were funny a few weeks ago. Why I listen to Cher when I go jogging.
Anyway, this bodes very well for my future. There no non-famous, untalented black Jews. Sammy Davis Jr? Rod Carew? I am in GREAT company.
It is a bit strange that over two weeks you can get compared to Super Mario, Harry Potter, AND a black man (I was not identified with any black celebrity. Considering, including me, there are about 4 African-Americans on the island, ALL of “us” are kind of celebrities to them). I wonder if my students were trying to make a statement about living in a post racial society. Like, I might not outwardly appear to be a African-American, but that the color of my skin is no longer important, it’s how I FEEL about myself on the inside.
Maybe my students are trying to tell me that I don’t have to qualify by “superficial” standards to identify with any minority community.
I think the only continent I might have not covered yet is South America. So this month, my goal is to aspire to BE Brazilian. Or something. Somehow I doubt any of my students will peg me as a Colombian drug lord. But some of these kids are pretty smart and well-learned. I shouldn’t doubt them.
I’m currently reading “Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail” by Hunter Thompson. So far he’s spent 100+ pages whining about pussyfooting Democrats and the lack of alternatives to a fairly rigid 2-party system that doesn’t really offer much of a choice.
Thank god that’s not how America works any more! I’m glad I can’t relate to his feelings of disenfranchisement………………
……….because I’m here on Jeju! America can’t touch me! I could read the newspaper on my kindle and I might as well be reading JRR Tolkien (but without the stupid songs) for all the impact it will have on my current life.
Newt Gingrich? Mitt Romney? Ron Paul? Ron Weasley? Winnie the Pooh? It doesn’t matter to me!
The Korean won is going down relative to the dollar? Who cares, I’m not saving any money anyway!
And so on.
Later this week I’ll do a January photo dump. My recent life in pictures.
Spoiler Alert: that picture of me screaming on the mountain is a candid shot. It was really really fucking cold up there.
Culture Time 
“The rain, the park and other turtles” ?