This Is My Life

Imagine this: A classroom full of students is let out to go to their English class. Everyone is walking. One child slowly picks up the pace. Then he gets a little faster, and a little faster still. A slow jog and boom; he's running. He sees the school gate. He goes for it.

About ten minutes later, I'm teaching the class. Three boys come in out of breath, cheeks flushed, sweaty head. "Why are you late?" I ask. "Where is Young Min?"

"English class. He see. He run."

Seeing their flushed cheeks, I realize-- this kid literally ran away from my class, and they literally tried to catch him. But this is not the running away we're used to. This isn't telling your parents your gone forever, packing a few pairs of socks, sneaking off to the playground, envisioning them forgetting about you and moving away, and then going back home.

No, this kid straight ran the hell away.

My co-teacher stares at me for a second and gives me the go-ahead-with-the-lesson look. This is probably around the time Young Min has slowed to a light jog and just performed one last look over his shoulder.

Then I'm interrupted: my co-teacher is waving her arms and yelling out the window: "Young Min! Hello!! Come in, we miss you in English class."

Young Min, apparently having been caught and turned around, is walking heal to toe to make it to my class.

This is my job.

My days are spent almost entirely with another Korean teacher. She is known as my co-teacher. We are alike to a fault in that we are both a tad unorganized. Actually, we are more like a tad organized. A drip even. Two peas in a pod and the only thing we disagree upon is which one of us is dumb and which one is dumber. For the record, I'm dumb.

This morning, we both forgot our key to the english wing and I told her if I could just get a wire hanger I could easily break in.

"Bendy stick?"

"Yes. Yes! Bendy stick."

I finagle the bendy stick through the door and a few near misses later, I've lifted the scissors that are jamming the lock. (Credit to older brother).

I update my status on facebook: Anne-Claire Siegert just broke into english wing using a wire, also known as bendy stick.

My new friend Alexis comments: ha..had a date once wit a guy who wanted to show me how to steal my own car!!!!

This is Alexis.

Alexis is my new favorite expat. Expat is a word I didn't use last year because I felt stupid saying it, but now I give up. Expat. My new favorite: Alexis.

We go out on the weekends and in the mornings we get breakfast with my other favorite expat, Caitlin. Alexis tells us about the new black guy that is obsessed with her. Because all black guys are obsessed with her.

She says, "Girl, it's one thing to have a foot fetish, but it's another thing to ask for pictures of my feet."

I say "Alexis, it's one thing to have a foot fetish and it's another thing to have a foot fetish."

Thought interrupted: my co-teacher has elongated a music stand, taken presumably out of her Mary Poppins bag. She has busted out a random flute. She has begun playing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." I'm singing along.

Children are racing in streaks behind me on the playground. First place goes to their stomachs; followed by their feet. Their heads come in last.

Now she's playing another tune and asks me what I invision. I get a hint: skylark, tiger, fish.

"A tiger is hunting fish and so is a skylark?"

"Really? That's what you invisioned?! Oh, It's my playing! You were supposed to invision a skylark flying gracefully up and down."

I've been in Korea long enough to know not to ask about the tiger and the fish.

This is my life.