I apologize for not updating by Sunday. We've had a new arrival from the United States here at ESS to take Julie's place. Since he and I are roommates, I decided to take it upon myself to serve as his grizzled guide. Despite being time-consuming (which accounts for my lazy blogging), I've rather enjoyed giving this guy the introduction to teaching that nobody bothered to give me.

Mr. Kim, Julie and I traveled to Gimhae airport to pick up the new recruit. I spotted the American standing alone beside the baggage conveyor belts, a handcart loaded down with his camera bag, suitcase and backpack. "This must have been what I looked like," I thought to myself as we walked up to him. Tired, confused, apprehensive, scanning the endless river of Koreans for his guides, he didn't see up until we were right on top of him. We shook hands, made introductions, and escorted him through the airport to Mr. Kim's big, ivory Chairman (which looks suspiciously similar to a Honda Accord).

Earlier that day, Mrs. Nam informed me that from that day forward, I would no longer live in Julie's apartment. I was to gather up my belongings and move to Mike and Dennis' apartment first thing in the morning. Nice timing, I thought sarcastically to myself, all the while smiling and nodding to Mr. Kim (who had come over to make sure I swallowed the medicine like a good little employee and didn't spit it up). Both he and Mrs. Nam said the place was as clean as it had ever been. Mr. Kim himself had got down on his hands and knees and scrubbed the dark green mildew from the sides of the plastic bathtub. Yeah right, I thought.

My last impression of Mike and Dennis' place had also been my first. On my third night in Busan I went home with Dennis to hang out and drink some beers. They hadn't cleaned it in months. The shower curtain was a vision from hell. The floor was caked with dirt and the couch looked like it might get up and walk away at any moment. Dennis had caught a praying mantis during the ESS summer camp in August and named it 'Little Homey.' For nearly an hour we all drank beer while Mike and Dennis caught cockroaches and staged one-sided gladitorial contests between them and Little Homey. Suffice it to say that I was not looking forward to moving into this rathole.

To my great surprise, Mrs. Nam and Mr. Kim were true to their word. It was a different apartment I walked into Friday night. The refrigerator was empty. The floors were so clean it was like they had been replaced. The trash and old food was gone. The roaches were gone. The five-foot mountain of beer bottles in the closet was gone (wow, they have a washing machine). The bathtub was spotless (go Mr. Kim!). My room, which under the Dennis administration had resembled a North Korean cell for political prisoners, was spotless and sported a new matress. My eyes brightened.

I gave my roommate the bigger room (he had a lot of stuff), for which he was grateful. The next morning I crammed my belongings into a cab and 2000 won later I was in a new apartment.

I'll write more about the new place in the next update.

Now, I must give Julie her due: She was a wonderful teacher for living in Busan. For living here only two months, I am an encyclopedia on Busan, and Julie is in large measure the author of my knowledge. However, neither she nor Mike nor Dennis really gave me any teaching advice beyond, "don't worry, you'll do fine," or, "they're just children," or my personal favorite, "hey, if I can do this, anybody can." Right.

I've been here two months, and it has only been within the last week that I can finally say with any degree of truth that I'm beginning to get the knack of this teaching thing. Sometimes all I have to teach for 45 minutes are the words "Hello," and "hi." I can stretch "hello" and "hi" into ten minutes. What do you do with the other 35? I've spent two months figuring that out, and I considered it priority numbero uno to bequeath some of that information to the new teacher this weekend.

The new recruit didn't mind my foxhole expertise (God knows how far I am from calling myself an expert in teaching). In fact, teaching was just about all he could talk about. He was nervous, plain and simple. He didn't care about where we lived, or what there was to eat, or see or do or drink. His jet-lag-addled mind was fixed upon the moment when he would have to stride into a room full of Korean ten-year-olds and teach English. We've all been there. My heart went out to him.

So I've been a little behind on my update.

Here are your Korean Files updates:

"Realize there is nothing to realize" (Whoa man, that's deeeeep. T-shirt)

"What is given by the goods more desirable than a happy hour" (I am not thinking that means what you are thinking it means. Child's notebook.)

"War is not healthy for living things" (Nor is it covered by Blue Cross Blue Shield of Georgia)

"Their parents gave them very energetic sperm" (Presenter at a seminar for a new teaching book published in part by Disney explaining the behavior of certain children in the classroom. What can I really say to this? At the time it was all I could do not to laugh)

"Give Mania" (a rare form of psychosis involving bums. Fast-food restaurant tip jar)

"Human Placenta Hydrolisis" (Ouch. Must be good for you. Saw this on a shopping bag).

OK, below are the photos I took that last week. I'll have more to say once I get the new teacher settled in.

Here are photos of my high school and Special Class classes building and launching their home-made parachutes. It was part of a science course on gravity and friction I taught last week.








Live Jazz at this Japanese restaurant in Nampo-dong. They were total showoffs.


The ajumma, or as I like to call them, The Human Swiss Army Knife. They can do anything.


I took Kevin up to Busan Tower to show him how beautiful Korea can be. There were all these foreigners there for APEC and the Koreans were showing off their cultural heritage with dances and music.



Well, I got to go. My computer is now fixed and fully functional. I signed up for internet service today, so expect better and more frequent blog entries in the coming weeks. Sorry about the protracted nature of this entry. When you are living your life and helping someone else live theirs, the available time for prattling on becomes scarce. Peace. --Notes