My first year removed from formal education (at least the student's side of it) has been, in a word, sublime. I didn't always think this would be the case, as I was always a bit....bookish (read: unathletic and bad with people). But honestly, I love this new-found freedom. I don't have to annotate scholarly articles, make coffee at midnight, or write a note to my roommate to "make sure I am awake by 5 am," only two hours before that godless time rears its ugly head.
Intertwined with this freedom, however, is a growing concern that my mind is turning to mush. Not that chanting "I can swim! Can you swim?" over and over to Korean 3rd graders isn't intellectually stimulating. But still. Now that I'm not chained to a study room in the library, I have very little willpower to pursue significant academic thought. So, I've decided to invest more time into reading.
Fortunately, I'm a reader already. Unfortunately, I live in a foreign country, so I don't have a lot of books here. Let me clarify: I did not BRING a lot of books here. I've since procured quite a few, due to my decision to fight mind-mush. One that I have recently obtained is a children's book that is very dear to me: The Wind in the Willows. (It's a chapter book, mind you. I'm trying to be intellectual here.) This passage has regularly been in the back of my mind as I have moved through various significant stages of life (in sum: childhood to adulthood):
"He saw clearly how plain and simple - how narrow, even - it all was; but clearly, too, how much it all meant to him, and the special value of some such anchorage in one's existence. He did not at all want to abandon the new life and its splendid spaces, to turn his back on sun and air and all they offered him and creep home and stay there; the upper world was all too strong, it called to him still, even down there, and he knew he must return to the larger stage. But it was good to think he had this to come back to, this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted upon for the same simple welcome."
To me, my life in Korea is that "upper world." My home in America is the place that I have, that I can "come back to." I won't belabor the point (and children's literature doesn't deserve to be torn up with analysis anyway). But there it is. And I do love my Upper World of Korea.
Here are a few sights that have reminded me of this lately:
1. You will not believe what is happening in the following two photos, but I will tell you anyway. These are my third graders, during the break time (!!!!), making English words (!!!!) with alphabet cards that they requested from me (!!!!!). That's right, they decided to use their free time to continue their English studies. Needless to say, I extended break time. They are going to be the best darn little spellers in this whole country.
2. Trees are beginning to blossom. I took this photo three days ago on the path between our apartment and town:
3. Our oven-less kitchen has instilled little but fear and confusion in me, especially because I'm not naturally a great cook to begin with (don't laugh, people who have ever lived with me). I'm slowly dealing with it though. One of my goals is to learn how to be more open minded about the rice cooker. Last night, I used it to make a vegetable frittata, and it was easy. So easy, in fact, I may never need an oven again! (No. I didn't say that. Don't take me seriously, please.) Also, yes, the frittata itself is pretty hideous, but the photo is documented proof that I made not-rice in that rice-geared contraption.
4. Hiking weather is back! These photos are from our mini hiking outing this past weekend:
5. I love how goofy my students are. Yun ji looks decided cooler in my shades than I do. Si hun looks decidedly cooler in a girl's headband than any girl does.
6. This sweet, adorable child standing wistfully under the blooming magnolia tree:
7. These tender kindergartners who laugh harder than anyone else (and fall off of things more than anyone else).
8. This tender phonograph in my favorite coffee shop. I will never tire of it.
P.S. I considered basing this post on a different Wind and the Willows quote: "Badger hates Society, and invitations, and dinner, and all that sort of thing.” That is near and dear to another part of my heart. The part that likes to stay inside on a Friday night, reading books and watching Netflix. You're welcome for going a more heart-warming route. But if some such post surfaces in the future, you can't say I didn't warn you.
