Like a snail toward a carrot

It dragged by, like watching a snail make its way over a six foot wall. Waking up each morning was difficult. The jet lag was wearing me thin. My busy mind would struggle to fall asleep, I’d have nightmares and wake up to the unfamiliar sounds of my new surroundings. The repetitive, slow days training with Alex, watching him teach would lull me to sleep. I would force my eyes open, just waiting for the class to end.

Everyday would begin with monotony. I would find an English series on the cable channel, needing the sound of a familiar language. It would almost always be interrupted when I was collected at the same time every day, by Mr Kim or his wife, Mrs Park. They would always take me for lunch. Each day was an experiment in Korean food. Some days were better than others. I had doncass stuffed with sweet potato, kimchi jigae, beef bone stew, a seafood soup and more foreign foods than I could conceive of trying. It was all overwhelming, but most of the food was wholesome, they were like home cooked meals, although entirely foreign, they were a comfort. The forced awkward conversation that went in circles, however was not, and I would rush through lunch just to get to class.

Things weren’t much better in class though. I was becoming increasingly intimidated by Alex. My boss could not stop boasting about him, how well he taught, how much the students adored him and watching him teach it was obvious how good he was. It was obvious how much the children loved him. I had big shoes to fill. I had to do this without experience in teaching, without experience in children, or even a fondness for children. Most of my life I kept my distance from them, I didn’t know how to communicate with them, and they always seemed so annoying to me, so selfish, wanting, needing, demanding attention.

The only thing I seemed to be skilled at was getting the hang of the Little Fox website. The Little Fox schools run all of their lessons through its website. The children learn a story over two days. They listen to it, repeat it, answer questions based on it and learn the vocabulary in it. All of this is accessed on the internet and played on the big television screens in the classrooms. I’ve never had difficulty grasping the logics that go into computer software and this program was no different. At least I impressed Alex with that. My confidence and my teaching ability would have to be worked on. I was growing a fondness for the children though. Their wide eyes, questions and curiosity warmed me to them.

There was so many of them though, swarms, and I was overwhelmed by all their names. I’ve never had a knack for learning names and their faces all looked so similar to me. To make matters worse I soon discovered I wasn’t going to teach the same classes every day. Most classes I only taught once a week and a select few I would teach twice a week. By the end of the first two days though, I had already learnt a few favourite names. Or should I say a few favourite students’ names. Julia, Jerry and Belle.

Wishing for Friday night to come did not help the week pick up its pace, the carrot dangling before me made time move that much slower. It was Alex’s last big night out, and my first. I was eager to have a few drinks and meet some people. I was eager to discover Sponge, I’d heard so much about it.