When I was working in Seoul, I used to keep a notebook with me during class time. I filled the pages with funny things my kids would say, crazy things they would do, amazing things they used to tell me, and whatever random thoughts happened to pass through my mind as I sat there in my little kid-sized plastic chair, chatting with them and masterminding plans to steal them away to Canada without their parents noticing. When I wasn’t busy scheming, I often just documented their behaviour, mostly merely to occupy myself during their playtime when I ran out of conniving ideas. ; )
I recently resurrected this book, never intending to share any of its contents, but found some of the entries too outlandish and absurdly unpredictable to resist posting. This next excerpt is from a cloudy day in the middle of February, 2010.
February 12, 2010
I’m sitting here in my classroom, across the table from Jenny and Haeun, the 5 year old Korean girls in my class. They’re happily colouring away in Hauen’s new Barbie princess colouring book.
The boys are on the floor, to my left, making all sorts of things with their basket of toy blocks. Jesse is making an airplane gun. James is making medicine. Elliot is making an airplane gun too. And Andy is working on an airplane gun? Today is all about airplane guns apparently.
I’m surprised Jenny isn’t spending her playtime gazing awkwardly at awkward Elliot. I never knew it was possible to be completely infatuated with someone when you’ve only been alive for 5 years, but, let’s be honest. I don’t know much about anything, least of all the chemistry of two 5-year olds in love. Jenny has been following Elliot around like a puppy dog for the last two weeks. But who am I to judge? Good for them? Oh, hold that thought. Hauen is singing. “Elliot, Elliot, Elliot-o, Elliot, Elliot, Elliot Muffin Elliot, Elliot, Elliot is cute Elliot, Elliot Elliot Muffin Man Elliot, Elliot, Elliot and Jenny Elliot, Elliot Jenny and kiss Elliot, Elliot, Jenny and kiss A-and a-and, marry and kiss!
The girl’s got a point. I can’t remember the last day he didn’t cry. I do remember the last time he shit his pants (my birthday). Oh help me, now they’re singing “Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer”… It’s the middle of February. And the boys have completed their airplane gun assembly and are running around “shooting” each other. James has finished making his medicine.. and then, “Oh no, James is died!” (James always dies at playtime).
I finish checking their homework. I ask Andy, “Why didn’t you finish your homework?” Andy: “Because I eat meat. Cow meat.” Of course. Because that makes sense?
Jesse hasn’t finished his, either. Me: “Jesse, you didn’t do your homework?” Jesse: “Nope.” Me: “Why not?” Jesse: “Because the girls not kiss me.” Well, now that makes perfect sense. : )
![So I was at the gym the other day, running on the treadmill and flipping channels to find that one English program to zone out to while getting my cardio, when I came across the most amazing thing I have ever seen in the history of things. It was a soccer game. A very, very intense soccer game, with a referee and a large crowd. […]](https://www.thevagablond.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/img_0961-36x36.jpg "Head Soccer. Or, soccer with heads. Another reason why Korea is awesome."){kind=small}
![I write this post out of absolute necessity. I’ve already elaborated a bit on my fear of Korean food here, but these two recent discoveries require some further attention. Number One: Pizza. When we went to Pizza School the other night, we had two options: Barbecue Pork Ribs Pizza or Pasta Pizza. Craving carbs, and not feeling particularly like picking bones out of our pizza’s […]](https://www.thevagablond.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/img_7962-36x36.jpg "Spaghetti on my Pizza & Intestines in my Soup: Korean Food Fails"){kind=small}
![It’s a liberating thought. Tantalizing even. You’ve got a house and a mortgage and a car and maybe a kid or a dog and a job. You have a whole life somewhere. But the thought of selling everything, packing a suitcase and moving far away.. maybe it crosses your mind sometimes. To leave all you know behind. To start anew. To experience life on the […]](https://www.thevagablond.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/71167493547__FB0EE4D2-E8D3-4ED5-8E7B-5135BD58E752-36x36.jpg "On Selling Everything and Moving Away"){kind=small}
![So I’m in the Northern part of Argentina, with a bag holding my sunscreen, some Argentine pesos, my binoculars and a pear. And I’m on a bus to Brazil, apparently, though I don’t know if they will let me in. Theoretically, this bus will take me to the Brazilian side of the Iguazu falls. Theoretically. And I say theoretically because at this rate I am […]](https://www.thevagablond.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/IMG_3526.jpeg-scaled.jpg "From Argentina to Brazil, hopefully."){kind=small}
![Buenos Aires. Eye-rays, is what I tell my English speaking brain. Not Air-Ees, Eye-Rays. There is something about this place that I can’t put my finger on. We’ve been here a month, and still the city seems to shift, to change. It changes by the time of the day, by the day of the week, almost as the staircases in Hogwarts upend and revise direction, […]](https://www.thevagablond.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/IMG_0322-scaled.jpg "On the ground in Buenos Aires"){kind=small}
That great!