A Small Compilation of Advice for Those Who Want to Teach Abroad © 2013 Ashley Schebo

So, I wrote this a while back for Union College Mission Week and I randomly came across it today as I was searching for a file totally unrelated. For all those who have ever thought of or are thinking of going abroad and read my blog, this is meant especially for you. I don't have a huge amount of experience, seeing as I'm merely one year out of college, but I hope it helps or enlightens or inspires or guides in some way. So, without further ado . . .

Teaching.

It’s what my classes prepared me for. It’s what my Bachelor’s degree certifies me to do. It’s what I never dreamed I would be doing in a foreign country. Yet, here I am, an English teacher in Korea who now has ten months of never before dreamed of experiences under her belt. What a way to start life after school.

Each day here has been a learning experience. I quickly realized that, while I may be a teacher of English, I am a student of a vast multitude of other subjects – culture, adaption, flexibility, and getting enough sleep are just a few among many. I probably learn as much from my students as they learn from me. So even though child and adult alike call me ‘Ashley Teacher’, I feel like I should be calling them ‘[insert any Korean name which I can never pronounce correctly no matter how many times I try] Teacher’ as well.

I am continuously finding reasons to laugh with my students. Conversation time never fails to bring laughter as one student says the wrong word and totally changes the meaning of the sentence or if another student makes a humorous response to a question (don’t worry, no one laughs at anyone – we all laugh together, including the person who made the mistake). I will have stories to tell for quite a while about Korean co-teachers or students unknowingly causing me convulsions of laughter on the inside while on the outside I gently guide them to the correct word or response with only the hint of a smile on my face.

• “Look, that baby is shaking at us!”      “No Michael, she’s WAVING. She’s waving at us.”
• “I ride the short bus.”     “The what bus?”     “The short bus.”    “Please say it one more time, a little slower.”   “The shuttle bus.”    “Oh, got it.”
• “My mother is delicious.”
• “I am boring.”    “You are?”    “Yes, I am boring. And this class is bored.”
• "She is a smart man." "She is a smart man?" "Yes, she is a smart man." "SHE is a smart MAN?" "Yes." "She . . . Man . . ." "Ohhhhh, no! HE is a smart man . . ."

Hmmm, advice? Well, first of all, if you are thinking of going abroad, pray. Ask for guidance and continue asking for guidance from the Father who knows best. He knows you inside and out. Just keep asking and eventually you’ll figure out what He wants you to do. If you do end up taking up the call to become a missionary, here’s a few other pieces of advice for you. Leave this country without expectations. I had a lot of expectations upon my arrival to Korea. Korea has not been all that I expected it to be, but it’s also been more than I expected it to be. Immerse yourself in the culture and try to understand it as best as possible. Firstly, it will make your time much easier if you know why the people you are with do what they do. Secondly, it will impress and shock your students AND most likely give you ways to teach them better. Don’t find the negative in the situation, but instead find the positive. It makes being alone for the first couple of months much easier. TRAVEL – enough said. I have a lot more I could say, but this is already getting long and I know some of you have short attention spans and over-explaining can also make something seem more confusing, so I’ll end with this. Being in a foreign country and teaching isn’t a walk in the park. It can be difficult, lonely, confusing, scary, frustrating, overwhelming, and sometimes make you feel like giving up. But the times that make you feel happy, loved, respected, culturally aware, accomplished, amazed, and overjoyed are much greater in number and are the ones that stick with you longer. Keep your focus on those and your year abroad will be the experience of a lifetime.

Cardboard Box

Brown. Cardboard. Sturdy. Taped.

It's just a box. Merely pieces of cardboard formed into a container that holds safe your belongings and carries them to destinations of your desire. So why did it make so many emotions rise in my chest?

This past week, I got home from teaching and finally did what I had been meaning to do for a while - I packed clothes, shoes, and jackets into a cardboard box to ship back home. Packing has always been a despised task by me, but this time, it made me feel more than disgust for its very creation. This time, I was packing a box because my life is about to change drastically . . . again.

I haven't exactly been counting down the weeks until I return back to the land of the free and home of the brave (my wonderful father decided to take on that task himself. lol). I've thought about what it will be like when I get back. I've thought about what I will do, where I will go, who I will see. I've thought about the emotions, the reunions, and most importantly, of course, the bread aisle at Walmart. But none of it seemed real. These were mere thoughts, imagined situations that flitted through my mind like a firefly at night - here then there, back and forth, mysteriously appearing then disappearing without warning.

With each unwanted and unneeded piece of winter clothing emptied from a drawer; with each item carefully rolled and arranged in my cardboard box (just like Dad taught me); with each strip of tape (there may or may not possibly be an extreme amount of adhesive covering all openings on my box) cut and placed on my cardboard box, the reality of my life as I have now begun to know it changing again slowly crept over me, like the tide creeps over the sand. My life here will be ending soon - two months can seem like a long time to a child waiting for a birthday or a student waiting for school to end. But I am neither of those. I am a woman walking down a road and seeing the next new road in the not-so-far-away distance. I am a woman who now has two homes and is waiting to leave one for the other. I am a woman waiting to face the fears I have of leaving, many of them the same fears I had upon arriving.

Reality still hasn't fully overtaken me yet. No plane ticket yet, no empty apartment, no packed suitcases at the door, no inevitably emotional goodbyes. The tide is still creeping in, and won't fully overtake me until I'm sitting on that plane leaving behind the new life God has helped me make for myself. Instead of the moon influencing this tide however, it was a cardboard box. Something so simple causing such a big effect on me. Something so simple causing emotions of excitement, sadness, thoughtfulness, and anxiety to fill my heart and mind all at the same time. Hmm, who knew a cardboard box could be so powerful . . .

Early to Rise

*cough cough* Umm, this got a bit . . . umm, well, long. I guess it makes up for all the posts I haven't written
      which I should have.

Chuncheon - area of Korea known for its dakgalbi and beautiful scenery.

As of last Sunday, my friends, Gina and Cody, and I know it for these as well as some other things. Adventure has a way of joining you in ways that you don't quite appreciate in that exact moment. But when adventure joins you in that way, it always makes your stories so much more interesting.

The morning began bright and early - at 5:45 a.m. to be exact. Why did I wake up this early on the day right before Monday? I don't know. At least the subway was nice and quiet.

We figured out the correct trains to take and after about an hour or so subway ride, we made it to the lovely city of Chuncheon. There was even a LAKE! There were two exits, one of which would lead us to the tourist information booth of which we were in need. We finally decided to take the exit with the really, really long hallway. As we rode the escalator down to ground level, we realized that this was not the side we should be on - it was deserted except for some bicycles, a few stores, and the Michelin Man. So we retraced our steps to the escalator, rode up, and walked back down the really, really long hallway - all the while Cody reminding us that he had said the other exit was what he had said we should take in the first place. This did not seem like a good precursor for the rest of our day - and it was only 9 a.m.

We got our map and made our plans to go to a temple up in the mountains. After walking over to the correct bus stop, we tried (unsuccessfully) to figure out how often the bus to the temple ran. That was when we met Pastor Ha and Pastor Han - two very easily confused names (I should know, I confused them). Pastor Ha had just returned to Korea two months ago after pastoring at Napa Korean SDA Church in CA for 30 years. He also used to be the president of SDA Language Institutes, the place I WORK! Ten years ago, Pastor Han served as the president of Northern Asia division of the Seventh-day Adventist church. He was 67 and had traveled to 103 countries and hopes to make it 125 in the next five years. He also told us we could come to his house anytime, gave us his phone number, and offered to give me a Golden Retriever puppy.

Not long after the dynamic H duo left, our bus arrived - out of 1962. I was almost positive the floor was going to rust through as we drove through the winding and tight-cornered mountain road. But at least somebody had the thought to put a high-tech flat screen TV at the front of the bus so that even if the floor did fall through, you could still watch your favorite drama, no worries! After a white-knuckled ride, my feet landed firmly on solid ground, alive!

The bigger waterfall, where we looked so helpless trying to
find someone to take a picture of the three of us that a
guy with a baby strapped to his chest walked out onto
the rocks for us. lol It was great.

We began our hike in the sunshine and clean air. In fact, the air was so clean, I think my lungs were actually grinning and giggling. There was a beautiful clear gurgling stream running on its merry way alongside our walking path. We found a spot near a good-sized waterfall where we could leave the path and ever so gingerly step our way across the water on wobbly rocks. If we got yelled at, we had all decided we could just play the foreigner card - give them a wide-eyed, slightly scared look and play dumb. "So sorry, we didn't know. Thank you. Sorry." However, we set a trend - a few older couples actually followed us out to the rock slab by the waterfall. After we had gotten back on the walking path and were trekking our way up the mountain to the bigger waterfall, one of the older couples decided it was time for them to cross back over to continue their hike as well. The woman went first while her husband was filming on his phone. Then . . . the woman biffed it! And the man just kept right on filming, for the next 45 seconds until the woman was able to make it back up the side of the bank. We almost died! It was so hilarious - I wish I had gotten it on camera.

Cheongpyeong-sa, the temple at the end of our trek since we
didn't go up any higher. There were people who made it to
the peak of that mountain in the picture, however.

Anyway, we made it up to the temple, enjoyed the breathtaking scenery around us, and headed back down so we could catch the bus for another 30 minute ride back to Chuncheon. As we waited around for a bit at the parking lot, we started wondering when this thing would actually arrive. Thankfully, Gina can speak enough Korean to get us around. She asked the gate keeper when the bus would arrive. He said 6 p.m. It was now 1:30 p.m. This was not going to work for us or our complaining hungry stomachs. We contemplated a taxi - but we knew that would cost an arm, a leg, and money besides. The thought of walking briefly flitted through like a nervous butterfly, but we quickly shooed it away. Someone brought up the suggestion of asking any of the leaving parties for a ride. At first it wasn't a serious idea. However, even though it was awkward, it seemed the most appealing.

So, the hunt began. We prowled the parking lot until we found our first victim. They, unfortunately, were going to Hwacheon, in the opposite direction. So again the stalking began - I think we looked more desperate and weary than anything else though, dragging our feet as we trudged back and forth, up and down, scouring the parking lot in the unforgiving sun. Finally, we found another one to pounce on. He said he was going to Hwacheon, but there was a station there and we could take a bus to Chuncheon. We were so grateful we immediately agreed. This young man, from now on until eternity, will always be known as Driver, for we did not find out his name. He spoke a slight amount of English, took a wrong turn at one point, and had a friend who kept calling him every 5 minutes to ask him where he was. After a gorgeous scenic drive through the mountains with a huge river on one side, we arrived at the bus station. He wouldn't take any money, so we hope that he understood just how grateful we were.

After a nauseating and daring bus ride (our driver was crazy - he almost ran over a cyclist!), we had returned to the wonderful Chuncheon station. From there, we hailed a taxi and ate at the most famous dakgalbi restaurant. Oh my, mother of pearl, the best dakgalbi I have EVER had! So much flavor and awesomeness being shoveled into my mouth, it was unreal. In case you were wondering, dakgalbi is a dish of cabbage, chicken, rice cakes, spicy pepper sauce, and ours had sweet potatoes, too. You cook it in the huge pan that is at your table and uses gas (don't try to stretch your feet out under the table - you might end up slightly singed). Here is a wonderful picture for your viewing and drooling pleasure.

All in all, the day was wonderful. Was it full of unexpected events and issues? Yes. Were we exhausted by the time we stepped onto the train to head back home, stomachs full of dakgalbi and Cold Stone ice cream? Yes. Would I do it all over again? In a heartbeat.