SBC TV Network starring me

Monday evening I was somewhat duped into being recorded for a TV segment. The reporter called it a "documentary," but it's hard to tell if he meant it the same way native English speakers mean it.
The story was something like a follow-up to a story done about my birthfamily's restaurant six years ago. When he found out about me, he insisted I be included. I told him that I would prefer not to be on television, but like every other time the word "no" exits my lips, I was ignored. At this point I find myself being too tired to press the issues very often. After the tenth "no," I more or less give up.

So yesterday I found out the story has already aired. A coworker, Edward, came to me and said that his students mentioned seeing me on television. Then tonight, some of my middle school students were excited because they'd seen me on SBC TV.

Apparently it was revealed on the show that my birthfamily's restaurant is worth about $1 million. Everyone seemed quite impressed.

The actual interview for the documentary (Monday) was stressful. The reporter was pushy and incredibly insincere. Any time I felt uncomfortable with something, he'd continue to push. He always referred to my birthparents as "your mother and father." And when he asked me about the racism I experienced growing up in America, he seemed almost disappointed when I reported very little. He rephrased the question a couple times, but when I failed to tell him that I grew up being discriminated against and that America is horrible, he sighed a bit and gave up.

Some other controversial topics were brought to the surface and it made me very uncomfortable.

One somewhat amusing (for me) moment was when they told me to go outside the restaurant for a few minutes. When the reporter called me back in, my birthmother rushed to me with open arms and embraced me, as if she had no idea I was there before. Then she "calls" my birthfather to come out from the kitchen. And although he had been standing there the entire time watching, when the camera focused on him, his eyes opened wide and he said, in surprise, "Laura!"
It was all I could do to keep from rolling my eyes with the camera stuck in my face.

At one point, my hand was near my face. My birthfather took his hand and firmly pushed my hand down. It's a harmless gesture, I suppose. But I've never been one who likes someone physically manipulating my body, even if it's only my hand. I don't like to be touched in any type of forceful or directive way and his doing so has, over the past few months, worn on me.

Lastly, without getting into it too much (at least not now), at one point the reporter disagreed with something I said, saying, "THEY are your family" (referring to my birthfamily).

All in all, it was a stressful interview....but I remembered what I learned in my public relations courses from college, and smiled instead of screaming. That's probably the main P.R. rule....don't break down crying and screaming. Mission accomplished.

More student stories

Today was my higher level English class. They are all older elementary school children and, although they are considered higher level, I don't see much difference between their speaking and vocabulary abilities and my lowest level class.

The topic for today was Slavery. Yes, deep. They had to read several excerpts about slavery in general and specific events. Then their project assignment (in-class) was to discuss and write down the various hardships and suffering slaves experienced. Then they were to make up a song about the slaves' struggles.

They came up with:

-Being killed (We'd learned about one particular trip when 133 sick slaves were thrown overboard so the ship's owner could get the insurance money for "destroyed cargo.")
--The reason this was bad was because it was "unfair." Yes, kids....that IS one thing that was unfair about slavery....but can you think of ANYTHING else that as unfair????
-Having to wear "only underwear" all the time--which was embarrassing (I have no idea exactly where this came from, but this was right next to the "being killed" entry.)
-Being homeless (I think they meant homesick, but not sure)
-No good food

No mention of slaves being sold, traded, used, beaten, forced into ignorance (punishing those who showed they were trying to learn), or any of the other things we had discussed. The underwear, homeless, and bad food ideas were ALL from somewhere else.

And that was about it.
There were two groups....one group's song made no sense at all. The other group's song was....well....this (sung to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star):

"If you kill slaves then you have no slaves
and you need slaves
so why do you kill slaves?"

That was only the first part, but I couldn't help but feel that maybe the kids had missed the point of today's lessons.

On a slightly unrelated note....it bothers me when the know-it-all girl in my class tries to "interpret" what another student is trying to say because her speaking/vocabulary/grammar is horrible. She uses bigger words to impress but almost never uses them correctly. Many times she does this even after I've understood the original student's question. She usually interrupts by saying, "What her mean is...." and then a string of mispronounced, oddly placed words.

Rated R post

The other day my students (around 11-12 years old) asked me what "puck" means. I would've been thinking hockey (thanks to my older brother, Ryan), but since I'd just had to speak to them about saying the word "ass-sole," I knew they weren't asking about a hockey puck. Also, Korean kids have trouble with the "f" sound (coffee becomes coppee, phone becomes phone, and apparently fuck because puck).

My "bad" class has two boys who cause trouble, but Obama is the worst. He hates that he is expected to do anything. The problem is that he is a funny kid. If he was a neighborhood kid or a relative of mine, I'd find him hysterical and clever and possibly cute. But I'm his teacher.

"I love you," he told his friend, Junior, one day. The class thought it was funny and burst out in laughter, much to Junior's embarrassment. In semi-mock anger, Junior jumped out of his seat and tried to hit Obama on the arm.

"Teacher!" Obama cried, feigning outrage. "Junior is touching my body!"

Again, the other students giggled in delight, which moved Junior to, once again, go to Obama and hit him.

"Teacher! Junior touching my leg!"

I had to concentrate on firming up the corners of my mouth so I wouldn't laugh.

Then last week, while another student was answering a question, Junior asked a question and interrupted the other student. I shot him what I hoped was a scary don't-talk-while-others-are-talking look. He shut his mouth. Then I saw Obama shake his head and make a "tsk, tsk" sound.

"Teacher," he said. "Junior...no etiquette. What an 'ass-sole.'"

Again, I tried not to smile, but this time I failed.

Originally, when they asked me what "puck" meant I told them two things:

1.) Don't SAY the actual word when you ask what it means....call it...the "F-Bomb"
2.) I am not going to say what it means

So today, the question came up again. But this time, it was, "Teacher, what does the 'puck-bomb' mean?"

Great...my student just asked me what "fuck bomb" means.

Tarot reading

Seems like it's been so long since I've posted. Hope you all didn't miss me too much.

Today is Saturday and I went out last night with a group of the teachers. I really find I don't have much in common with them, so I quickly got bored and opted out before 3AM. The taxi scramble during peak bar hours is very frustrating, especially if your Korean is limited. Simply knowing where you're going doesn't suffice. You also need to know what direction it is because, if you're on the wrong side of the street, they won't take you. There are also "taxi pimps" that stand by taxis and negotiate rides. I hate these guys. They don't really act as translators, although some speak some English, but instead act like pimps. They quote a price, as opposed to letting the meter speak for itself, and seem to tell the driver whether they should take me or not. I really haven't heard of anyone else having problems with them and I don't know if anyone's even noticed them, but I have twice now.

Today I decided to head to my birthfamily's restaurant for some food. I arrived and Unkyung was still at her home, but on her way. As I watched, a few people requested more sauce (the special recipe sauce that goes on the pork cutlet). I then wondered if it might be a good idea to bottle the sauce (small bottles) and sell those bottles to customers. That's what they do at Genji and Fujiyama in Columbus with the "Yum Yum" sauce (Genji) and the whatever-that-is-it-tastes-great salad dressing (Fujiyama). When I brought it up to Unkyung later, she said her father didn't seem interested in that kind of thing. In fact, someone approached him about franchising his restaurant (for a nice amount of cash, according to Unkyung) and he turned them down.

The last bit of news I feel like sharing is that I went to a tarot card reader today. Unkyung and I had just eaten and were strolling down the street in the university area. The street is lined with food stands, purse stands (bought a cute one for around $10), shoe stands, fake-designer sunglasses stands, and tarot readers' stands. About every block is another tarot stand, and I've wanted to stop by for a while, so I figured today was as good a day as any. Really, today was a better day since I had Unkyung there to translate. Here's the run down:

The tarot reader said I get bored quickly, especially when it comes to romance. She said I am very interested in someone for a very short amount of time and am soon ready to move on. She also said I used to be the same way with jobs, but that that is less true now. Not off base so far.
Then she said that for a while, she felt I should not work. Okay, there's where she was way off. She told me I need to heal my mind and heart before beginning to work again. When I asked Unkyung (who translated the bulk of this after we left the tent) how long this woman thought I should be unemployed, there was no answer.

Sorry, but in America, women over the age of twenty-three generally work. We don't (usually) live with our parents and wait to meet husbands to support us. Even when we do get married, American women tend to feel an obligation to help support the family by working, unlike Korean women who believe their role as wife is "in the home."

So...my tarot reader wasn't too bad. Unfortunately it seems the cultural differences got in the way of the most accurate "psychic" reading possible, but I did have fun.

All in all a pretty enjoyable day. (P.S. There's a 50%-Off-Sale at one of my favorite shoe stores)