Over a month since I've updated this blog. I've just been so busy what with the... and also there was this... actually I haven't been busy at all; lazy in fact. This job is cake. Frustrating, frustrating cake. On the one hand, I only have to make one lesson plan a week, and it seems that at least once a week a class is canceled, and often more. Take this week: one class canceled Thursday, no class Friday. Next week? Classes canceled Tuesday and Friday. But I still have to go to school and sit for eight hours. If you've been wondering why I've been doing so many stupid, stupid Facebook quizzes lately, there you go.

When I'm in class is another story. It's hard to teach conversational English to people who won't talk or listen to you. I've begun entertaining myself in class: stupid jokes, funny voices. I've actually had to do that less lately; I think I'm really getting through to some of these kids. I've already started writing the screenplay. The kids are actually kind of adorable and really funny, when they're not hitting each other (though I admit I find that funny sometimes). The best was when I tried to wake up a rather chubby kid and his buddy said, "sleeping pig!" in classic Engrish accent. Classic closed mouth sputter surprise laugh. My love for slap stick has never been stronger.

Since I feel kind of like an impostor, I don't really take it to heart that they don't listen to me. I don't have any qualifications to teach except fluency in my native tongue. Not to mention that they have to be at school from eight in the morning until eight or nine at night. No shit. And there's always a disgruntled teacher ready to whack 'em on the shins with the little wooden batons they carry around. So let the poor guys dick off for an hour a week.

Before I close, to relate the best episode yet concerning my deeply, pathetically goofy principal. I wish I had a picture (wow I spelled that "pitcher" and caught myself) of this guy to set up the story. He called me Monday on my cell phone from two doors down the hall and asks me to come to his office. I get there and sit down and there is a piece of paper with the lyrics of "Yesterday" printed on it. He explains that he's going to sing "Yesterday" for the school festival next week. This man's English is serviceably broken at best. He wants my help, not with pronunciation, but with singing the song. What follows is half an hour of me singing a line halfway decently and then Principal Asian Stereotype getting everything wrong. Horribly, gratingly wrong. I felt my insulted for my culture. I felt pity. I laughed a lot as soon as I left the room. Poor guy.

So, school life. Next week: I get black out drunk and wake up in a hotel two doors down from the one I'd checked in the night before. Unless something better happens. I guess in one sense many, many better things could happen to me than that.

Today was my first day of teaching, which is an interesting thing when you're untrained and undirected, but I think it went alright. It's a bit of an odd situation. I'm essentially taking over one of the Korean English teachers' classes for a day (there are four Korean English teachers); they stay in the classroom, translate when necessary, and try to keep order. I stand there and speak very loudly in English. The problem is that the level of English is extremely low; I had not expected this. They're high school students, they've been studying the language since Kindergarten. My first impression is that I'm trying to teach conversation to linguistic toddlers. The kids themselves seem sweet enough, if pretty rowdy. One class, after perceiving my frustration, came to my cubicle with a Korean gatorade-type drink and apologized. What do you say to that? Anyways, I think it'll be alright; I only see each class once a week, so I can use one lesson plan for the entire week. That is pretty bad ass for a lazy bastard like myself. The Korean teachers have to work ridiculous hours, do all kinds of planning, and teach in the shitty old classrooms, whereas I dick off, leave before them, and teach in the "English Cafe" which is state of the art, computer, projector, sound system - as nice as the classrooms at App. Makes me feel a little guilty. Also I get free bad ass Korean food lunch, all the super sweet instant coffee and green tea I can drink, and today they kept giving me all kinds of snacks and drinks. Soon I'll be offered daughters and new cars.

But it's not all fun and games. Still no hot water. I am bathing, don't worry, but Christ it's unpleasant. I actually found instructions for the thing online, and still couldn't get it to work. I think it's broken. It must be. I can't be that stupid. Overall I would say that the Korean household is overly-weighted down with buttons - the hot water thing (which also controls the infloor heating system), a million different light switches for one tiny-ass apartment, and a toilet seat from the future with all kinds of buttons and obscure pictures next to them. Playing with them my first day (when I thought you had to use them to flush the toilet; there's a regular old flusher for that) ended in a pleasant surprise a few hours later when I sat down on a preheated seat. I once heard that a warm tush improves digestion. Of course I heard that from a homeless man in Detroit.

So I'm settling in. Tomorrow begins my first weekend. Where are all those expatriates (expats is one of those words that right now annoys the shit out of me but will eventually begin using) I've heard all about? Who'm I gonna get all ugly American drunk with? I'll root 'em out, if by God I have to Talnado the whole town. I'll tell you all about it, just like you give a shit. I hope I can get a shower before then; I'd hate to get fired for poor personal hygiene.

So, with the assumption that you, my friends, would care to know of my doings in Korea, land of the morning calm, I have begun this blog. I have been here three days as of now, and here is what I have learned: Kim Chi is delicious; Korean beer is on a par with Miller High Life; plumbing is a deeply confusing subject; and you do not bow with your hands in your pockets.

First, the plumbing. I may never have another hot shower. There's this little console full of buttons on the wall of my apartment that control the heat, ac, and hot water. All in Korean, of course, and I can't figure the fucker out. I was near tears and punching things yesterday morning. I wonder what my neighbors think of my 7 am yelling in the bathroom. Gastrointestinal troubles? Too much spicy food for the American next door? I look at those buttons and feel in my soul the meaning of the word inscrutable. I also can't get the gas range lit, but this hasn't been a problem since I have yet to buy any groceries.

I hope no one expects any insights for awhile. So far, things have been Lost in Translation-lite: cultural differences are difficult, and frustrating, and funny, and you get over them and are a better person. That's the idea, right? Except that cultural differences haven't yet been a problem - I don't think I've seen enough culture - just appliance differences. Today is my first day off, and I haven't even started teaching yet. I plan to go to Seoul, look at some temples, look around, be a tourist now so I can feel like an old pro later. Maybe I'll gain some insight, or some stuff to put in my apartment. More on it, Uijeongbu, and my day in Seoul on the next post. See, I said post. I'm already a blogger.