Welcome Back Ambition

I thought long and hard about quitting this blog.  I put way more thought into that decision than it warranted; after all, it’s just a stupid blog.  On the one hand I haven’t updated this thing in months.  What is worse, I never even finished a story that was really important for me to finish.  The last post was about my return to Cheongju.  Cheongju is a place I hold dear to my heart, partially because in a stroke of spontaneous stupidity or love I had it tattooed onto my chest.  My return to that place was monumental in my mind.  It is the place that I associated with my entire experience in Korea.  In Cheongju were my friends, my students, and coworkers who I consider to be my family over here.  I never mustered it up to finish the story.

I saw Oo-Rin, but also Jun-Ho.  I didn’t recognize Jun-Ho because he grew up so much.  I was scared he wouldn’t remember me.  He did.  In a quiet moment at the front desk while everyone was teaching he came up to me and sat on my lap, hugged me, and rested his head on my shoulder. 

I saw other kids.  All of them had grown up so much.  So much had changed in their appearance and my own.  Some didn’t know me at first.  Those that did told me I was slim.  My hair was good, they said.  Whatever problems I had in Seoul and at my Gangnam job faded. 

One older student, who had an obsession with Bon Jovi, was confused when I asked if he still played Mine Craft.  I told him my friends built a giant boat, that I became obsessed with it at home.  He clearly had no idea who I was but he was polite.  Before he left I told him that I was his teacher once.

“What! Tom Teacher?!” He said.  He bowed and hugged me and patted my belly.  “So good!”

I saw the elementary school student who gave me a gift.  As he walked out on that last day his eyes were watering and his voice was cracking.  He was trying not to cry and I recognized it because on that day I did the same several times.  The last thing I said to him was a lie.  I told him I would see him again.  I am proud that I saw him again.

Most of the kids were gone, but some of the key players of my time at that school were still around.  Older, pimply faced and awkward with puberty but still there.  They asked if I would be their teacher again and while I wished I could be, that things were different, I could not. 

Billy, who somehow looked exactly the same, walked in and didn’t even say hi.

“Game?” he asked.  Barryfun English.  The wheel game that I wasted so much time playing with him.

At a certain point the Crazy Boy with long hair walked in as bat-shit crazy as ever.  He looked at me behind the desk in shock.  I smiled and said hello.  Another teacher asked if he remembered.  He looked at me again in a comedic portrayal of fake confusion.  He walked around the desk.  At first I thought he would give me a hug.  I thought this boy who sang “Puff the Magic Dragon” with me and who pulled a very realistic toy pistol on me why trying to demonstrate “crazy” would hug me.  No.  He ripped back my left sleeve, saw my tattoo and said “ok.”

There were drinks that night with almost everyone.  Han was gone, Hye-Jin was sick, Shaina was gone, and Ara was in Australia.  Everyone else I ever worked with at that school was there.  We drank for a long time.  I was happy.  I felt as though I had come home.  I saw Albert and we hugged.  The money issues fell into the past and I can barely remember ever being mad at him.  We drank together until 4am, Albert, Boram, and I.  It made me happy to come back to this country when in all honesty I had been questioning it. 

So much has changed since then.  I lived in Gangnam.  I taught at a rich school.  My kids were better dressed but just as crazy.  I worked with Alix.  I ate dinner every day with Alix and Phil.  I then went home and slept next door to Alix and Phil.  Life had a routine.  It was comfortable but I never left Seoul.  My experience felt stagnated. 

Three months ago I lived in a nice apartment in a place made internationally recognized by Psy.  I was comfortable with Gangnam Style.

It all changed so fast, for both good and bad.

I met a girl called Che-Eun.  I quit smoking quite a while ago.  I lost my job.  We all lost our jobs.  They told us that the school was moving.  If the school is actually moving, I don’t know.  What I do know is that none of us are going with it. 

For 2 months Alix and I reached for motivation to teach kids, grade tests, and write report cards we knew were pointless.  Rapidly, we went from a full schedule with few breaks to nothing but breaks.  Kids quit so quickly that by the end we were teaching classes of individuals.  Then, finally, it was over. 

We bonded with our coworkers.  Bankruptcy is like death, I guess.  It sucks but if there is one plus to it is that it brought us together to some degree in the end.  I left Jung Chul feeling as though we were finally all friends.  Too late, but friends just the same.

So now I am here.

I signed on to a kindie north of the Han River in an area called Wangsimni.  I feel sad that the last 6 months counted for little, professionally, but I also feel fortunate.  The first few months of being here I confirmed my nightmare that I was trying to recreate Cheongju.  I now get a second chance.

I’ve done so much since that last entry.  I went to Taiwan, we’ve had three typhoons, I moved, an entire business collapsed.  I regret not writing about them, if even for my own memory.

So, I have decided to start this blog again.