Home, Sweet Home... Part One. (Sunday 2nd Mar 2014)

Dear Sal,

Sorry I haven't written to you sooner. This first week of work has been utter madness. 

After finally recovering from the epidemic of Sundays hangover, I made my way from my sleaze hotel, taking my luggage across to the school for my first day of work. I had originally been informed I would be taken to my new apartment before work. Upon arrival, I was told it would now be happening after, great. I had come in three hours early. I spent most of my time on the internet, going over my lessons and felt as best prepared as I could be. As I sat there nervously watching the clock count down to my first class, I wondered... What the hell am I doing here? Why am I even in bloody Korea? Was retail really that bad?

Every foolish thought of fear evaporated from my mind as soon as the bell went. I don't really know what happened, but I just got up and got on with it. Sure, I made mistakes, I had only been 'trained' on my first book lessons for about twenty minutes on Saturday, but I did it. I laid the rules down straight away.

The day is organised into two three hour lessons each day, with a five minute break at the top of every hour. Barely enough time to run and piss. I found myself desperately trying to catch up on things I'd forgotten to do, grade a test, print out a work sheet, see if David had messaged me. What I liked most about Monday and Tuesday is that I do the same lessons each day so Monday was more of a test run. By Tuesday, I knew what I was doing and felt much more comfortable.

The biggest problem I have so far is the students. I don't know if it's because I'm new, or it's the start of a new term, but these kids gave me nothing. They sat like zombies staring in to space. Now, I know they work hard. These poor kids get worked to death. After spending all day at regular school, they are shipped off to these English academies to reluctantly be taught a language their parents want them to learn, not them. They make little to no effort to speak. Saying that, they can read and write very well, better then I can probably.  

Lesson one follows a class text book, which work well but are quite outdated and boring for the kids. Yet another reason for them to fall asleep. But the new tablet class, which I had second, was exciting and new with colorful up to date images, current film clips, relevant quizzes and all at a fingers touch away. This group had a little more energy, but were still shy when it came to talking in class.

All in all, I think my first day went alright actually. Towards the end of my second class, which is the tablet I had spent all last week training on, I suddenly stopped to listen to myself. Who is that talking? Who is this guy? And where the bloody hell did he come from?

Love, hugs and stop speaking Korean in my class.

Samuel James.