Greetings Nature Lovers:
A short post to acknowledge that the Koreans may be more right about kudzu than we know. I read an internet report today about studies going on at a couple of universities in which researchers are testing an extract of kudzu root as a treatment for high blood pressure. Apparently, following a recent extended test, lab rats were shown to have significantly lower blood pressures after treatment with a drug made from kudzu root. Don't start grazing on the kudzu growing up the side of your house just yet, but it does look promising.
Have a relaxing, non-pressured day.
Kudzu Bill
Blog Science Editor
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
A Room That's New...... and Karaoke 2
Hello Culture Lovers:
My school building in Duckdo-Ri is a rather modest affair the oldest part of which, I would judge, was built sometime during the years immediately following The Korean War. I would date it late 1950's. It serves the children of what has been a relatively transient population of agrarian working class people who are migrating toward the bright lights and better opportunities they hope to find in Yangju, Uijongbu and Seoul. Their expectations aren't great and their primary motivation lies in getting their children anywhere other than where they've been. Duckdo-Ri isn't exactly a Peace Corps kind of situation, but neither will anyone ever mistake it for Times Square. The school has languished somewhat by my estimation largely due to the de facto Korean caste system which doesn't seem to assign these people much value beyond manual labor. (For example, I've learned that if your family name isn't included among the eight historically upper class ruling clans of Korea you pretty much don't matter.) Fortunately, the last several principals of the school have been successful in snagging some government resources to make improvements. Having set the scene for you, we direct your attention to stage left where the boob/daredevil teacher from America has entered and, in his usual fashion, immediately upsets the socio-cultural apple cart. (I can hear the groans of "Oh no, not again!)
When I first arrived here back in February, I was told they were "ashamed" (their word via translation, not mine) that the school didn't have a dedicated classroom for English instruction as
many schools in Korea do these days. They did have me set up shop in the school library which had a cabinet in which they stored English language teaching materials. (Side note: Most of what they gave me as teaching materials were obviously created by professionals who know a lot about methods and theory and very little about applied linguistics and, more importantly, how to out-con an elementary age con artist into learning a language.) Long story short, I trashed most of their material (actually, stuffed it back in the cabinet) and went to work creating something useful. If I had several years here I'm willing to bet I could revolutionize their entire language curriculum. Lest my observation be considered an idle boast, I say in the words of baseball great Dizzy Dean: "It ain't braggin' if ya kin DO IT!" Where was I? Oh yeah.....
By a few of what could only be divinely directed circumstances (have you noticed that, sometimes, God just takes over and mostly when you don't expect it?) I got my (now buddy) the mayor of Yangju involved and as of today, August 28th, I am holding court for my youthful charges in a newly constructed addition to the school building that contains everything for which I asked and then some. Among other goodies, we have (courtesy of Samsung, bless 'em) an interactive video system with a 70 inch "touch" screen plus some really cool software, four "Language Tutor" brand individual language practice study stations, an elctronic map of the world in Korean and English, a custom-made "role playing" area that can be converted into everything from a store counter to an airplane passenger cabin and a lot of other cool stuff that was recommended or developed by an educational consulting firm from Seoul. My students may be bumpkins, but by the grace of the Almighty, they're going to be state-of-the-art bumpkins! I'll conclude by noting in the words of a praise song we sing at church--"I called....you answered..."
Karaoke 2: I continued my 1960's theme by stumbling through a haunting rendition of the Petula Clark hit, "Downtown". (How I love that synthesizer microphone). Carnaby Street in London never heard it done any better. Despite pleas for an encore or a duet, I decided to quit while my chi (remember that?) was still working for me. As they say, a good time was had by all.
Wishing you good times,
Electric Bill
When I first arrived here back in February, I was told they were "ashamed" (their word via translation, not mine) that the school didn't have a dedicated classroom for English instruction as
many schools in Korea do these days. They did have me set up shop in the school library which had a cabinet in which they stored English language teaching materials. (Side note: Most of what they gave me as teaching materials were obviously created by professionals who know a lot about methods and theory and very little about applied linguistics and, more importantly, how to out-con an elementary age con artist into learning a language.) Long story short, I trashed most of their material (actually, stuffed it back in the cabinet) and went to work creating something useful. If I had several years here I'm willing to bet I could revolutionize their entire language curriculum. Lest my observation be considered an idle boast, I say in the words of baseball great Dizzy Dean: "It ain't braggin' if ya kin DO IT!" Where was I? Oh yeah.....
By a few of what could only be divinely directed circumstances (have you noticed that, sometimes, God just takes over and mostly when you don't expect it?) I got my (now buddy) the mayor of Yangju involved and as of today, August 28th, I am holding court for my youthful charges in a newly constructed addition to the school building that contains everything for which I asked and then some. Among other goodies, we have (courtesy of Samsung, bless 'em) an interactive video system with a 70 inch "touch" screen plus some really cool software, four "Language Tutor" brand individual language practice study stations, an elctronic map of the world in Korean and English, a custom-made "role playing" area that can be converted into everything from a store counter to an airplane passenger cabin and a lot of other cool stuff that was recommended or developed by an educational consulting firm from Seoul. My students may be bumpkins, but by the grace of the Almighty, they're going to be state-of-the-art bumpkins! I'll conclude by noting in the words of a praise song we sing at church--"I called....you answered..."
Karaoke 2: I continued my 1960's theme by stumbling through a haunting rendition of the Petula Clark hit, "Downtown". (How I love that synthesizer microphone). Carnaby Street in London never heard it done any better. Despite pleas for an encore or a duet, I decided to quit while my chi (remember that?) was still working for me. As they say, a good time was had by all.
Wishing you good times,
Electric Bill
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Of Abalone and Artillery
Greetings Fellow Daredevils:
I've been known to put some strange things in my stomach. I'm probably even better known as a controlled risk taker who will push the edge occasionally with what I say and do in my personal selective pursuit of experience. Since I'm supposed to be dead anyway (stroke, 1989; car wreck, 2006) and continue to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide only by the grace of divine intervention, it seems to me that taking a risk or two (or three or...) might not be such a bad use of all this borrowed time I have. In retrospect, I've probably already borrowed quite bit considering that, during a visit to Jerusalem during one of my archaeological expeditions in Israel, I eagerly accepted a proposal from the manager of the Palestinian-owned hotel at which I was staying to have his family take me for an up close and personal tour of Arab East Jerusalem with a fly-by of Yasser Arafat's headquarters at Abu Dis. Only whilst I was meeting and greeting with Palestinians in the streets of East Jerusalem did it occur to me that I hadn't told any sane member of my expedition team (there actually were one or two rational souls out of thirty which is about the right percentage for a gathering of archaeologists) where I was going and with whom. Everything worked out OK and probably was no riskier than eating the lunch I had purchased that day from a street vendor who was cooking on the sidewalk. (Hey, I had had my vaccination for Hepatitis A.) To quote from Ferris Bueller: "You have to stop and look around once in a while. If you don't, you might miss something."
(I've been resting my typing hand. Now, back to our story.)
Referencing my last post, before leaving Kyung-jong, Min-hi and her mother fixed a traditional Korean breakfast of soup, rice, vegetables and, as a special treat, abalone. Abalone is the meat of the giant Pacific clam (you've seen pictures--they're about two to three feet wide and weigh about fifty pounds). Like caviar, there's only so much of it and it's priced accordingly. Five of us shared about two pounds of abalone which I have since learned runs about 100,000 won ($80) per pound. As a special added treat, we had some really tasty goodies of odd shapes and consistency for which I was told the tongue-twisting Korean name. Min-hi looked it up on her electronic Korean-English dictionary and the translation came back "innards." GUTS??? Big clams have guts? Min-hi's father told me that eating them is good for"what makes you a man." The women ate them, too, but I didn't pursue that line of discussion further. Breakfast concluded with mint and jasmine tea of which I partook liberal quantities. Sufficiently fortified, I set out for my confrontation with the North Koreans.
Partying Down (NOT!) at Panmunjom
The best that can be said about the scene around the Demilitarized Zone at the 38th parallel is that the terrain and the troops on either side of the line look equally bleak. The entire place is an armed camp for as far as can be seen with big lines of artillery set on the ridges pointed in either direction across the border. I doubt those Howitzers and Russian made guns could hit much of value from where they are, but the effect of their presence sends a message. The North supposedly has even bigger artillery (mounted on rail cars they move continually along the border) capable of hitting Seoul. The army stops the limited amount of permit traffic (we had one) well south of the DMZ where you can look at the border and peace talks building through those big binocular-like telescopes that are popular at scenic vistas in the U.S. No picture taking is allowed which is OK because there really isn't much to see. Not many people come to Panmunjom because access is controlled (Min-hi's father knows people in the South Korean Press Corps which was the source of our permit) and the place hardly qualifies as a tourist attraction. Even from a distance the scene is somewhat surreal and I kept looking around for M*A*S*H 4077th. It's a sobering place and safe although I have to admit that I felt better about hanging out with the Arabs in the shadow of PLO Headquarters than I did staring across (OK, at a distance and through a telescope) the border at what is (with the possible exception of Jerusalem) the most bitterly contested desert rockpile on earth.
The 38th parallel divides families as much as it divides territory. They say there isn't a family in South Korea that doesn't have relative bottled up in the North and Min-hi's family is no exception. They are hopeful that the decline in tensions between North and South over the past few weeks may finally lead to some cross-border family visits. However, they have had false dawns before and one can only hope.
Summer break is about over and the second half of the school year starts next week. The special English classroom that has been under construction as an addition to the second floor of the school building is almost finished and I have promised to help get it equipped and operational before I leave. Lots to do and not enough time to do it. And (Did you get the news?) a grandson on the way. Me? A grandfather? Talk about surreal!
Luv 2 all.
A well-fed and very sober,
Teacher Bill
I've been known to put some strange things in my stomach. I'm probably even better known as a controlled risk taker who will push the edge occasionally with what I say and do in my personal selective pursuit of experience. Since I'm supposed to be dead anyway (stroke, 1989; car wreck, 2006) and continue to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide only by the grace of divine intervention, it seems to me that taking a risk or two (or three or...) might not be such a bad use of all this borrowed time I have. In retrospect, I've probably already borrowed quite bit considering that, during a visit to Jerusalem during one of my archaeological expeditions in Israel, I eagerly accepted a proposal from the manager of the Palestinian-owned hotel at which I was staying to have his family take me for an up close and personal tour of Arab East Jerusalem with a fly-by of Yasser Arafat's headquarters at Abu Dis. Only whilst I was meeting and greeting with Palestinians in the streets of East Jerusalem did it occur to me that I hadn't told any sane member of my expedition team (there actually were one or two rational souls out of thirty which is about the right percentage for a gathering of archaeologists) where I was going and with whom. Everything worked out OK and probably was no riskier than eating the lunch I had purchased that day from a street vendor who was cooking on the sidewalk. (Hey, I had had my vaccination for Hepatitis A.) To quote from Ferris Bueller: "You have to stop and look around once in a while. If you don't, you might miss something."
(I've been resting my typing hand. Now, back to our story.)
Referencing my last post, before leaving Kyung-jong, Min-hi and her mother fixed a traditional Korean breakfast of soup, rice, vegetables and, as a special treat, abalone. Abalone is the meat of the giant Pacific clam (you've seen pictures--they're about two to three feet wide and weigh about fifty pounds). Like caviar, there's only so much of it and it's priced accordingly. Five of us shared about two pounds of abalone which I have since learned runs about 100,000 won ($80) per pound. As a special added treat, we had some really tasty goodies of odd shapes and consistency for which I was told the tongue-twisting Korean name. Min-hi looked it up on her electronic Korean-English dictionary and the translation came back "innards." GUTS??? Big clams have guts? Min-hi's father told me that eating them is good for"what makes you a man." The women ate them, too, but I didn't pursue that line of discussion further. Breakfast concluded with mint and jasmine tea of which I partook liberal quantities. Sufficiently fortified, I set out for my confrontation with the North Koreans.
Partying Down (NOT!) at Panmunjom
The best that can be said about the scene around the Demilitarized Zone at the 38th parallel is that the terrain and the troops on either side of the line look equally bleak. The entire place is an armed camp for as far as can be seen with big lines of artillery set on the ridges pointed in either direction across the border. I doubt those Howitzers and Russian made guns could hit much of value from where they are, but the effect of their presence sends a message. The North supposedly has even bigger artillery (mounted on rail cars they move continually along the border) capable of hitting Seoul. The army stops the limited amount of permit traffic (we had one) well south of the DMZ where you can look at the border and peace talks building through those big binocular-like telescopes that are popular at scenic vistas in the U.S. No picture taking is allowed which is OK because there really isn't much to see. Not many people come to Panmunjom because access is controlled (Min-hi's father knows people in the South Korean Press Corps which was the source of our permit) and the place hardly qualifies as a tourist attraction. Even from a distance the scene is somewhat surreal and I kept looking around for M*A*S*H 4077th. It's a sobering place and safe although I have to admit that I felt better about hanging out with the Arabs in the shadow of PLO Headquarters than I did staring across (OK, at a distance and through a telescope) the border at what is (with the possible exception of Jerusalem) the most bitterly contested desert rockpile on earth.
The 38th parallel divides families as much as it divides territory. They say there isn't a family in South Korea that doesn't have relative bottled up in the North and Min-hi's family is no exception. They are hopeful that the decline in tensions between North and South over the past few weeks may finally lead to some cross-border family visits. However, they have had false dawns before and one can only hope.
Summer break is about over and the second half of the school year starts next week. The special English classroom that has been under construction as an addition to the second floor of the school building is almost finished and I have promised to help get it equipped and operational before I leave. Lots to do and not enough time to do it. And (Did you get the news?) a grandson on the way. Me? A grandfather? Talk about surreal!
Luv 2 all.
A well-fed and very sober,
Teacher Bill
Sunday, August 23, 2009
I'm A Travelin' Man....(with apologies to Ricky Nelson)
Hello, Fellow Travelers on the Road of Life:
Well, I covered a lot of ground this past week. My wonderful teacher friend, Song Min-Hi, and her family invited me to see some parts of Korea that few tourists are ever able to penetrate by virtue of being off the beaten path and somewhat difficult to access. Min-hi is the first grade teacher at my school and has been a lifesaver for me because she is the only one around the place who speaks fairly fluent English. She is about Diana's age. She and her boyfriend have to be in the running for "Cutest Couple in Korea" and I take a certain pride in the fact that she says her boyfriend is more afraid of me than he is of her father. After all, I am a lot bigger than most Korean men and my Bhuddah-like dome probably inspires a certain other-worldly kind of awe. But I digress...back to our story.
My first venture this week was to the ancient city of Kyung-jong (about a four hour train ride southeast of Uijongbu) which has been preserved and set aside as a kind of Bhuddist version of Williamsburg. The architecture is very distinctive and the seven-towered temple complex is impressive. I was able to visit a Bhuddist "prayer meetin'" in a large hall complete with tinkling cymbals, booming drums and an ominous sounding gong. I declined the opportunity to buy a fruit or grain offering to leave at the statue of Bhudda ("Thou shalt not make unto thyself any graven image"), but I did make a donation to the temple "poor box." My impression is that these people are serious, peaceful and not hurting anybody. However, it's a long way from Christianity and is, ultimately, a religion of salvation by works rather than by faith and fails the test of the Christian ethos. I wasn't called to be an evangelist and upset anyone's cultural apple cart (I do enough of that in secular circumstances). To each his own, I suppose. We then drove up a nearby mountain to Seong-ju to see Korea's oldest and largest stone Bhuddah. Again, more opportunities for fruit and grain, another poor box, etc. The place is a UNESCO World Heritage site (with the obligatory donation to support on-going preservation work) and worth the half-hour climb up a rocky path. It reminded me somewhat of the massive "Christ the Redeemer" statue on the mountain overlooking Rio de Janeiro. After a museum visit and a trip to see an ancient Confucian astronomical observatory we drove east to Pohang-si, a seaside town overlooking the Sea of Japan. I'm a big fan of sashimi (raw fish) and got to pick my own fish from a big tank and have it skinned and fileted table-side. I think part of it was still moving, but it tasted so good I try not to think about it lest the wrath of PETA descend on me.
Back to K yung-jong where we spent the night at a mountain guest house where Min-hi's family had made reservations. I'll tell you later about my oddball breakfast experience and visit to the border with North Korea and the U.N. peace talks site at Panmunjom but, for now, my typing hand is worn out.
Your "Smiling Bhudda" Buddy,
Bill
Well, I covered a lot of ground this past week. My wonderful teacher friend, Song Min-Hi, and her family invited me to see some parts of Korea that few tourists are ever able to penetrate by virtue of being off the beaten path and somewhat difficult to access. Min-hi is the first grade teacher at my school and has been a lifesaver for me because she is the only one around the place who speaks fairly fluent English. She is about Diana's age. She and her boyfriend have to be in the running for "Cutest Couple in Korea" and I take a certain pride in the fact that she says her boyfriend is more afraid of me than he is of her father. After all, I am a lot bigger than most Korean men and my Bhuddah-like dome probably inspires a certain other-worldly kind of awe. But I digress...back to our story.
My first venture this week was to the ancient city of Kyung-jong (about a four hour train ride southeast of Uijongbu) which has been preserved and set aside as a kind of Bhuddist version of Williamsburg. The architecture is very distinctive and the seven-towered temple complex is impressive. I was able to visit a Bhuddist "prayer meetin'" in a large hall complete with tinkling cymbals, booming drums and an ominous sounding gong. I declined the opportunity to buy a fruit or grain offering to leave at the statue of Bhudda ("Thou shalt not make unto thyself any graven image"), but I did make a donation to the temple "poor box." My impression is that these people are serious, peaceful and not hurting anybody. However, it's a long way from Christianity and is, ultimately, a religion of salvation by works rather than by faith and fails the test of the Christian ethos. I wasn't called to be an evangelist and upset anyone's cultural apple cart (I do enough of that in secular circumstances). To each his own, I suppose. We then drove up a nearby mountain to Seong-ju to see Korea's oldest and largest stone Bhuddah. Again, more opportunities for fruit and grain, another poor box, etc. The place is a UNESCO World Heritage site (with the obligatory donation to support on-going preservation work) and worth the half-hour climb up a rocky path. It reminded me somewhat of the massive "Christ the Redeemer" statue on the mountain overlooking Rio de Janeiro. After a museum visit and a trip to see an ancient Confucian astronomical observatory we drove east to Pohang-si, a seaside town overlooking the Sea of Japan. I'm a big fan of sashimi (raw fish) and got to pick my own fish from a big tank and have it skinned and fileted table-side. I think part of it was still moving, but it tasted so good I try not to think about it lest the wrath of PETA descend on me.
Back to K yung-jong where we spent the night at a mountain guest house where Min-hi's family had made reservations. I'll tell you later about my oddball breakfast experience and visit to the border with North Korea and the U.N. peace talks site at Panmunjom but, for now, my typing hand is worn out.
Your "Smiling Bhudda" Buddy,
Bill
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Kudzu.....and a Lesson
Howdy Kampers:
Well, I have to confess that every time I think I've seen it all, Korea surprises me with something different. In this episode, we observe the validity of the the English truisms that one man's meat is another man's poison and that one man's treasure is another man's trash. Lest I lose the ability to distinguish treasure from trash, I try to remind myself that I am on the opposite side of the world and that each side appears to mirror the other in reverse. While in college, I studied this philosophical culmination of opposites (Thank you Dr. Christiansen and Dr. Hogan) and, after forty or so years I'm living it out in real time and living color. So....what does the foregoing drivel actually mean? In a word--KUDZU!
I won't recount the already well-known nature of kudzu except to note that, if the story of kudzu is ever made into a horror film it could be appropriately titled, "The Curse That Would Not Die". The Korean version of the same film would probably be, "Kudzu--Gift of the Gods". The stuff grows both in the wild and in CULTIVATED FIELDS. Believe it or not Ripley, Koreans actually PLANT kudzu seeds and harvest the stuff as animal fodder. They say that pigs and goats especially thrive on it and cattle will eat it if grain or forage is in short supply. Koreans even have a special harvesting machine that gathers the leaves and prunes the vines so they'll grow better. (If they tell me they're cross-breeding to produce improved varieties of kudzu I'll be on the next plane out of here!) I've seen the tank-tracked harvesters they use in the rice paddies around my school so I'm trying to imagine the piece of ingenuity Koreans have developed for dealing with kudzu.
So, the bane of Georgia (and The American Southland) that we spray with weed control and treat as trash is actually a renewable treasure trove of food in Korea and only 11,000 miles and a world of attitudinal differences separates our perceptions. I'll leave you to ponder that while I go down the street for a hamburger dressed with kudzu (oops, I mean lettuce) and tomato (extra mustard, please and hold the kimchee).
Til later,
Bill
The Kudzu Kaper Kid
Well, I have to confess that every time I think I've seen it all, Korea surprises me with something different. In this episode, we observe the validity of the the English truisms that one man's meat is another man's poison and that one man's treasure is another man's trash. Lest I lose the ability to distinguish treasure from trash, I try to remind myself that I am on the opposite side of the world and that each side appears to mirror the other in reverse. While in college, I studied this philosophical culmination of opposites (Thank you Dr. Christiansen and Dr. Hogan) and, after forty or so years I'm living it out in real time and living color. So....what does the foregoing drivel actually mean? In a word--KUDZU!
I won't recount the already well-known nature of kudzu except to note that, if the story of kudzu is ever made into a horror film it could be appropriately titled, "The Curse That Would Not Die". The Korean version of the same film would probably be, "Kudzu--Gift of the Gods". The stuff grows both in the wild and in CULTIVATED FIELDS. Believe it or not Ripley, Koreans actually PLANT kudzu seeds and harvest the stuff as animal fodder. They say that pigs and goats especially thrive on it and cattle will eat it if grain or forage is in short supply. Koreans even have a special harvesting machine that gathers the leaves and prunes the vines so they'll grow better. (If they tell me they're cross-breeding to produce improved varieties of kudzu I'll be on the next plane out of here!) I've seen the tank-tracked harvesters they use in the rice paddies around my school so I'm trying to imagine the piece of ingenuity Koreans have developed for dealing with kudzu.
So, the bane of Georgia (and The American Southland) that we spray with weed control and treat as trash is actually a renewable treasure trove of food in Korea and only 11,000 miles and a world of attitudinal differences separates our perceptions. I'll leave you to ponder that while I go down the street for a hamburger dressed with kudzu (oops, I mean lettuce) and tomato (extra mustard, please and hold the kimchee).
Til later,
Bill
The Kudzu Kaper Kid
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Misery, Thy Name is Monsoon
Hi Fellow Kampers in Spirit:
I hate to be a grouch, but Korea is experiencing "vacuum cleaner" weather right now. (That's right...it sucks!). The predicted annual monsoon season has descended upon this part of creation and it is everything my seventh grade geography book advertised. I'm having mental flashbacks to 1966 when, as a sixteen year-old day camp counselor with the YMCA, I slogged through a few days of heavy rain with a dozen elementary age boys in my charge. The circumstances created a vacuum then (see above) and still do today--only now I'm pushing sixty and sixteen is a long way in the rear view mirror. As I survey this particular consequence of my freely chosen circumstances, I philosophically note that I am, once again, sitting beneath a leaky-roofed pavillion trying to keep order among (and teach English to) elementary age kids. Sadly, that's not much career progress for forty-three years. On the other hand, I think I'm in the right place at the right time and living out my destiny in accordance with the Grand Unified Theory as postulated by Einstein. (Oh Lord, I'm turning into a Jewish Asian mystic.....HELP!!!!).
Maybe I'll organize my Korean students into a chorus to sing a few verses of "Tomorrow" from the musical, ANNIE. (You know..."The sun will come out tomorrow. Bet you bottom dollar that, tomorrow, there'll be sun" etc.). With that, I leave you with best wishes and a quote from "Pygmalion" ("My Fair Lady") that Eliza Doolittle made to Henry Higgins during a torrential London thunderstorm:
"If it's gettin' worse, tis a sign it's nearly over.
So cheer up, Captain, and buy a flower off a poor gurl."
You'll have to supply your own Cockney accent.
Til later,
(A very philosophical) Kamper Bill
I hate to be a grouch, but Korea is experiencing "vacuum cleaner" weather right now. (That's right...it sucks!). The predicted annual monsoon season has descended upon this part of creation and it is everything my seventh grade geography book advertised. I'm having mental flashbacks to 1966 when, as a sixteen year-old day camp counselor with the YMCA, I slogged through a few days of heavy rain with a dozen elementary age boys in my charge. The circumstances created a vacuum then (see above) and still do today--only now I'm pushing sixty and sixteen is a long way in the rear view mirror. As I survey this particular consequence of my freely chosen circumstances, I philosophically note that I am, once again, sitting beneath a leaky-roofed pavillion trying to keep order among (and teach English to) elementary age kids. Sadly, that's not much career progress for forty-three years. On the other hand, I think I'm in the right place at the right time and living out my destiny in accordance with the Grand Unified Theory as postulated by Einstein. (Oh Lord, I'm turning into a Jewish Asian mystic.....HELP!!!!).
Maybe I'll organize my Korean students into a chorus to sing a few verses of "Tomorrow" from the musical, ANNIE. (You know..."The sun will come out tomorrow. Bet you bottom dollar that, tomorrow, there'll be sun" etc.). With that, I leave you with best wishes and a quote from "Pygmalion" ("My Fair Lady") that Eliza Doolittle made to Henry Higgins during a torrential London thunderstorm:
"If it's gettin' worse, tis a sign it's nearly over.
So cheer up, Captain, and buy a flower off a poor gurl."
You'll have to supply your own Cockney accent.
Til later,
(A very philosophical) Kamper Bill
Monday, August 10, 2009
Let the Games Begin!
Hi all:
Well, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!! Did you miss me? Our Hawaiian cruise adventure was really great and ended much too quickly. As previously advertised, I wore out a deck chair, destroyed multiple buffets and had a great time with the family. Although I've now been to Hawaii seven times, I did discover something new, different and definitely spectacular. We had been to the Kiluea volcano (world's most active) on the big island years ago with the girls, but, this time, we got a different view of it-- at night and from offshore. Kiluea is on the southwest coast of the big island. We cruised past it in the dark and the crater was lit up with bright yellow-orange lava flowing down the slopes and into the ocean where it sizzles and steams. It has to be one of the world's greatest sights. On Maui, while Ann and I wore out deck chairs, Kimberly and Diana took an excursion 10,00 feet up Mt Haleakaela (a dormant volcano) to see the sights and view a Pacific sunset from above the clouds. Ann and I had made this same trek on our first trip to Hawaii more than thirty years ago and we took the opportunity to let the girls have fun by themselves while we wore out some deck chairs we found in close proximity to a buffet. (Do you see a pattern emerging here?). All in all, it was a great time and we enjoyed being together.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch in Korea, the summer day camp program is now in full swing. The games I ordered (Candy Land and Chutes & Ladders) had arrived and I put the younger children to work on them as a vehicle for teaching them English color, number and directional words. Pretty clever of me, right? I thought so, too, right up to the point at which the Korean teachers became intrigued with these "wonderful" games they'd never seen and muscled the kids out of the way so they could play! Everything worked out fine, additional game sets have been ordered and everyone thanked me for bringing them these wonderful "new" games. The fifth and sixth graders continue to work diligently with their SCRABBLE games and are visibly unhappy, but respectfully silent when intrigued teachers try to muscle in on their games. The best part is that I only had to break up arguments and mediate disputes over SCRABBLE words twice although, sadly, one of the disputes was between two teachers. (Idle question: What did these people do for entertainment before I arrived?) For tomorrow, I've set up a scavenger hunt for English-named objects (manmade and natural) found around the camp area. Let's see the teachers horn in on that one!
Gotta go...my typing hand is giving out. Love to all. Y'all keep on playing and remember (as I'm trying to teach my very intense students)...IT'S ONLY A GAME!!
See ya,
Kamper Bill
Well, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!! Did you miss me? Our Hawaiian cruise adventure was really great and ended much too quickly. As previously advertised, I wore out a deck chair, destroyed multiple buffets and had a great time with the family. Although I've now been to Hawaii seven times, I did discover something new, different and definitely spectacular. We had been to the Kiluea volcano (world's most active) on the big island years ago with the girls, but, this time, we got a different view of it-- at night and from offshore. Kiluea is on the southwest coast of the big island. We cruised past it in the dark and the crater was lit up with bright yellow-orange lava flowing down the slopes and into the ocean where it sizzles and steams. It has to be one of the world's greatest sights. On Maui, while Ann and I wore out deck chairs, Kimberly and Diana took an excursion 10,00 feet up Mt Haleakaela (a dormant volcano) to see the sights and view a Pacific sunset from above the clouds. Ann and I had made this same trek on our first trip to Hawaii more than thirty years ago and we took the opportunity to let the girls have fun by themselves while we wore out some deck chairs we found in close proximity to a buffet. (Do you see a pattern emerging here?). All in all, it was a great time and we enjoyed being together.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch in Korea, the summer day camp program is now in full swing. The games I ordered (Candy Land and Chutes & Ladders) had arrived and I put the younger children to work on them as a vehicle for teaching them English color, number and directional words. Pretty clever of me, right? I thought so, too, right up to the point at which the Korean teachers became intrigued with these "wonderful" games they'd never seen and muscled the kids out of the way so they could play! Everything worked out fine, additional game sets have been ordered and everyone thanked me for bringing them these wonderful "new" games. The fifth and sixth graders continue to work diligently with their SCRABBLE games and are visibly unhappy, but respectfully silent when intrigued teachers try to muscle in on their games. The best part is that I only had to break up arguments and mediate disputes over SCRABBLE words twice although, sadly, one of the disputes was between two teachers. (Idle question: What did these people do for entertainment before I arrived?) For tomorrow, I've set up a scavenger hunt for English-named objects (manmade and natural) found around the camp area. Let's see the teachers horn in on that one!
Gotta go...my typing hand is giving out. Love to all. Y'all keep on playing and remember (as I'm trying to teach my very intense students)...IT'S ONLY A GAME!!
See ya,
Kamper Bill
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