I’m a hypocrite

Yes, that’s right, I said it. I’m a hypocrite. And if this preceding statement shocked or surprised you, then you’ve probably never met me or read anything I’ve ever written. For those unfortunate enough to know me, this fact is common knowledge. Why I felt like reiterating this information will be explained later in the post. Now to quickly cover the school stuff.

It’s been about 4 weeks since I’ve written about life here, and in regards to work/school/Korean/capoeira, not much has changed. School has been especially relaxed, with several of the grades going on field trips and excursions, leaving me with no classes to teach on multiple days. All that downtime allowed me to study Korean, chat with the co-workers, listen to music, and even write this blog post. Whatever I felt like. The kids have been good for the most part and they seem to take quite well to the activities and tasks we ask of them, which is definitely a relief. However, our reliance on candy as a motivator has begun to make its effect known. It is an almost daily occurrence to see the sugar junkies, twitching and shaking while trying to score their next fix, slither on into the classroom begging for candy to get them through the day. The whole thing makes me feel like a god damn drug pusher. Weird. The office ladies, however, are amusing as always, and as more than a few have workable English, we’ve had some interesting conversations. Plus, out of boredom, I’ve started attending the teacher’s English conversation classes taught by the other foreign teacher, so I’ve really started to gain some interesting insight on the teachers. Some interesting tidbits: two of the teachers said that whenever they think of their mothers/fathers and the fact that they aren’t around with them (as they live in different areas of Korea), they feel like crying. Everytime. Yikes. I can’t even imagine feeling that way, as the only way thinking about Bob makes me want to cry is when I accidently stumble upon the innumerable memories of him wandering around the house in just his old, worn out, red underwear. That image would make anyone cry. But why share that nightmare with all of you??? Well, frankly I feel its unfair for just my mom and brother and I to suffer through that and I’m feeling in a very giving mood right now, so you are most welcome.

The ladies in the office seen to keep to a pretty laid back work atmosphere, which is very refreshing considering where I currently work and live. Hell, the young teacher even April fooled the other foreign teacher and myself, saying that she was getting married. Thankfully, that was a trick. I don’t think I would have been able to handle being around someone my age who was married. Would be too weird. Marriage is something you do when you are an adult and no young anymore. Does that make me an adult? I sure hope not. Again, would really like to avoid those questions.

The apartment is still small and still kinda sketchy. It’s been thoroughly cleaned and the massive collection of the previous tenant’s hair removed, but I still seem to find hairs that appear to be much longer than mine. That’s some pretty freaky and disturbing shit if you think about it. Where are these hairs coming from? How are they getting into my abode? Is some mysterious woman breaking into my apartment every night and doing unspeakable ills to me whilst I sleep? Do I have……….wait a sec, that last one sounds pretty good actually, come to think of it. Let’s go with that. Overall though, I can’t really complain. Sure the kitchen is way too small and my mattress is kinda lumpy and the shower loses hot water after a few minutes, BUT there is a freakin miniature pony that hangs out just down the road. Totally worth it.

Capoeira and Korean class are much the same as always. At Korean class, we learn a few words, say some stuff in Korean, but spend most of it making fun of each other and saying stupid shit. ‘Tis a good time. Capoeira is still frustrating. Too little repetition of movements before moving on, too little time spent on anything but floreio, etc, etc. However, there were some exciting developments as of late. Firstly, the instructor had to head to Australia for the batizado, meaning the class was taught by his wife. And as it turns out, she is a much better instructor. She is a dancer by profession, so she focused a lot on movement and footwork and stuff that I really needed help on. Plus she always picked me to help demo stuff with her, so clearly she knows what she is talking about. And yeah, you didn’t misread, the instructor and some of the students here had to go to Australia to get advanced. That’s the state of capoeira here. To get baptized/advanced/attend the group’s batizado, you have to hop a plane for something like 14 hours. Wonderful. Much to my dismay, the massive pile of suck that I nearly came to blows with a couple months back got promoted. Yup. Can’t really play any of the instruments well, can’t sing, can’t play at a high speed, has no flow, and hasn’t seemed to improve in all the time I’m been despising his ass. Grrrrrrrr. However, we actually started practicing a song in class (what??? Capoeira and music? Together?? That’s crazy! That would be like putting peanut and jam together…gross), and my delight at practicing music quickly chilled my rage, so all is good. Plus, that weekend, some of the Korean guys invited me to a new capoeira class, taught by a different instructor. And it was incredibly awesome. The instructor, Zumbi, has been training for 10 years in the Cordao de Ouro group and really has a handle on his shit. Plus, he’s from the states, so if I have a question he can actually answer it, without confusion and language trip-ups. His style is much more geared towards Angola and ground movements, so it gives me a whole new angle and set of movements to learn. And the studio we practice in??? Absolutely kick-ass. It’s the practice area for some martial arts play/musical thing here in Korea, so the facilities are new and….they have a padded/spring enhanced floor. YES. After about 40 minutes of just bouncing around and trying all kinds of stupid shit, like 5 year olds in those bouncy rooms, we were able to start the class. And it was good. I plan on going every weekend, when possible. Still riding the high from that class, I headed out to Olympic Park where I had planned another practice in the park. And would you fucking believe it? People actually showed up this time. And they wanted to do stuff with music and practice some songs. I was so proud of the new folks, I almost cried. Well, in so much as a person without the emotional capacity to cry can almost cry. But it was beautiful. There may be hope for this group yet.

And on that uplifting note, I must leave you. It’s Friday and I gotta head home. I decided I’m gonna break up the post into 2 parts, to save your retinas as well as finally get something up online, as I don’t know when I’ll be able to write next about the exploits of the last few weekends. Hell, by the time I write next, I may be able to include this upcoming weekend’s events, which include a date and a half marathon. An unusual combo, but such is my life. Unusual.