Facing those I left behind

Saying good-bye is sometimes difficult, especially when saying good-bye to the few people who were not part of the problem.

I was out shopping today when I decided to have lunch. Two of the students I had taught at the job I had just quit immediately recognised me and started talking to me. So, we started talking for a little while ... but then one of them asked when I was going to be coming back.

I didn't know how to break it to them. I had said before that only 5 or 6 of the students had any respect for me at all, and here I was with two of them. The truth is, I had made the decision already, and there is no turning back. Aside from them and very few of my other students, all of my students disliked me. All of my co-workers hated me with a passion and thought I was the biggest screw-up going. My boss saw me as troublesome and everything I did as bad. From even before day one, pretty major details (such as the fact that I needed to know Korean to do well in the job) had conveniently not been told to me until it was too late, leaving me in a situation where there were some classes in which I had to come up with an entire lesson and present it in a language they could not understand without any help whatsoever from anyone who knew Korean. Aside from these two and the few other kids I already mentioned, the job had done some pretty major damage to me, to the point where, as many of you might have known, I had seriously wished I had never existed at all and that someone would just kill me already. It's possible I may be banished for life from Korea if my former boss has his way. How do I explain that, though, to a pair of Korean grade-schoolers without them thinking that they were part of the problem when they were two of the very few people involved who weren't?

So, all I had to say is that I had given up. I had run away. I'm off to a far-away country (even though Japan isn't THAT far away) in a few days, and I may never be able to return. I'm not sure if they completely understood the permanence of the situation; unfortunately, they may still be waiting for a long time to come (they still called me their teacher throughout the whole thing). At the end, we exchanged e-mail addresses and said our good-byes.

I didn't say this to them, but my wish is for them to never become like me. I hope that they find the courage to confront their problems rather than running away from them. I hope that they actually find success in life. Above all, I hope they don't end up becoming the messed-up and overall bad person that I am. I hope they never turn their backs on those who care about them. That goes for all of those who I have abandoned. I hope none of them grow up to be the rotten, spineless wimp I've become.

I also hope they don't wait for me. Not only am I probably never going to return, but also, I'm really not worth waiting for, not even for a day.

The only two things I have learned in Korea

There are only two things I have learned in Korea.

1. I am repulsive and morbidly obese. My looks are meant to be either ridiculed or cowered at like I'm some sort of movie monster.
2. I am not a person. I am an object, a tool meant to be used and then thrown away when my usefulness has expired. I have no inherent value; the only "worth" I have is what I can be used for. I am not deserving of the classification "human being," and I do not deserve the dignity or respect that comes with the title. I am an object. That's all I am and all I ever will be.

I'm probably going to be banned for life from Korea on Saturday. However, given the experiences I've had here, especially these past 2 months, I say good riddance. Let 'em throw me away. I am of no use to the Korean people, and after all, I am an object with no inherent worth besides what I can be used for, so who am I to protest or otherwise try to stop 'em?

I can't wait until I go to Japan and can put these horrible memories behind me forever. I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that this experience has left scars that will never heal.

Full speed ahead!

Today, I got the visa packet and a confirmation e-mail saying that the job is mine! I start September 3rd. I'm really excited about this! Finally, a job I can do in a place where I actually feel accepted as a person!

All I gotta do now is get the materials needed, send the visa packet, quit my current, impossible job, get the plane tickets (tomorrow), send my stuff, pack and go!

It took a lot of effort and a lot of waiting, but it finally happened. I have a teaching job in Japan. Barring some tragic problem, the dream will finally happen.

An end and a new beginning?

Here's the situation. It's pretty much a safe bet now that my days are numbered at this current job. At both schools, it appears that new, bilingual teachers have been hired. This most likely means that the boss is putting the pieces in place for my dismissal.

However, I just recently got accepted to teach English at a school in the Kinki region of Japan. This is a very good situation for me, since I actually speak Japanese, meaning not only can I actually function in society but unlike in my current job, when someone asks me a question in their native language, I no longer have to answer every question with "I don't understand what you're saying!" (I can speak the Kansai dialect as well, so even that shouldn't be too much of a problem.) I might actually have the chance to be a somewhat effective teacher in a setting that's more suitable for me.

That doesn't mean I hate it in Korea. There are lots of things that I have enjoyed while I've been here. This situation, though, where I've had to magically become fluent in Korean in a ridiculously short amount of time (not to mention having to endure constant insults about the way I look, something that I'm very sensitive about but will take months to change unless I do something drastic and dangerous, which wouldn't be a good idea), has not been a good one. Hopefully this new situation will be a reality -- and one where it's actually possible for me to succeed.