The Hardest Thing

Confession: I cried today. I cried a lot. At school, no less. In fact, I cry a lot at school these days and it's pretty much impossible for me to stop. I've had to leave one class early, skip one class all together and leave two classes up to my co-teacher while I sat comatose in the back. All this in the last two months. One day I even stayed in the squatty potty stall for an hour, quietly sucking back the tears while pinching my nose. I wish it was okay to just cry here but it's not. In Korea, it's not okay to be so open with your emotions and sadly, I would rather cry next to a can of soiled toilet paper in a poorly ventilated bathroom with 50 year old urinal cakes than cry within plain sight of my co-workers. The humiliation would be too great.

But crying alone is just as bad.

So what's with all the tears? (Which I say as I blow my nose and dab my eyes for the umpteenth time today.) I've been asking myself this question for months. It's hard to put my finger on it. Up until now, I've been totally aware of my excessive crying (which is way more than usual) and yet totally unaware of my thoughts, actions and words on said "liquid" days. I've been pissy. I've been easily annoyed and easily frustrated. I've yelled far more than I've needed too and screamed far less than I've wanted to. I've been excessive in punishing my students and bankrupt when it comes to patience and compassion. But I think I've put it together today. I think I've figured out why I'm falling apart on a weekly basis.

The only thing harder than leaving is staying.

It came to me while I was talking with a friend on the phone during lunch (crying again). It just hit me. I said a few weeks ago that "I'm stuck in the middle" but even then--though I was close--I wasn't quite sure what that meant. However, today I do.

The truth is, I'm not happy here. I don't want to teach here. Teaching used to be enjoyable to me. I used to love it. I used to enjoy every moment that I could pass on something useful to someone else. But Korea has killed that joy. Since January, I've hated Korea. I've found it's people closed-off, corrupt, prejudiced, uncooperative, lacking in passion, and overall depressing. Now, I know that's unfair to say that Koreans on the whole are like that--not all of them are. I'm lucky to have met some truly wonderful Koreans here: Frankie, Hyeon Suk, Hun, Lindsay, Jennifer, Mr. Jeong, Mrs. Jun, and Mr. Bak's family. But these people are not enough to make me want to stay. They have, however, along with so many wonderful foreign friends, made leaving nearly just as hard. I'll miss chatting with Ceri online for hours while at school. I'll miss chilling out with Courtney 3 nights a week either in a cafe or on the floor of my apartment with a cheap bottle of wine. I'll miss pizza nights with Lindsey and Romeo. I'll miss cocktails with Christy and Char. I'll miss Colleen's wacky ways. I'll miss Jon's rolling-on-the-floor-laughing stories. I'll miss so many people. There are people I'm going to miss so much I can't even bring myself to mention them let alone write about them.

Today I announced to my kids that I won't be returning to teach next semester. August 25th will be my last day teaching. With only two weeks left before summer vacation, I told them they had only one more assignment: to write me a goodbye letter. They could write anything they wanted but it had to be at least 10 sentences. I expected to see a few girls giggle with joy but instead I was met with brokenness. One student in particular looked crushed.

Rebecca has been my little pet all semester. She's come to my desk at least twice a week just to chat. She's come out to dinner with me. She's stayed after class to talk with me. She's been my buddy on school outings. She's tried her hardest to help boost participation in class. She's been that one token student who's made everything count this semester. And when I announced that I was leaving today, I saw her jaw tense up, her eyes drop, her lips purse together, and her shoulders slump.

Up until that moment, it felt real good to say I was leaving and not coming back. I'll admit it. But when I saw her reaction, I realized that maybe there were a few reasons to stay, and I asked her, "Rebecca, are you okay? You look a little angry!" I was just trying to lighten the mood but as I finished my sentence, I felt my eyes burn, my under-lids sag with the weight of a hundred impending heartaches, my hands get clammy, and a great pressure within my nose. I didn't want to cry in front of them so I tilted my chin towards the ceiling, willing my tears back into their home, and taking one big sniff I said, "Good luck on your exams! I'll see you next week!" It was completely unexpected.

The only thing harder than leaving is staying.

I can't stay here. I can't teach here anymore. This broken system has broken me and I find little joy teaching here. The only joy I have these days is in the company of friends who love me and I fear that leaving those few friends who sustain me everyday will take my last vestige of joy. Then what is left? I will carry my loved ones everywhere in the form of email addresses and a few phone numbers, but none will walk with me. And you know, all but the students and my few Korean friends are leaving too, so in truth, staying would be just as lonely, just as sad, just as empty. Probably more. The only thing harder than leaving the people I love is remaining without them. Korea has nothing more to give me but everything to take. It has taken my joy on so many occasions and often my passion as well. If I stayed any longer, I fear it would take my heart.

So I venture on. I'm choosing the path with the most opportunities and the most promise--the most hope--and I'm taking my best friends with me: my pen, my journal and my camera. If there is no one to talk to, I'll write. If there is no one to tell me stories, I'll read my own. If there is no one to share my adventures with, I'll stock up memories in the form of photos and one day we'll reminisce together.

I know this isn't an end to my tears; this realization will only bring more. So, tonight I'm replacing my empty Kleenex box with a roll of toilet paper and I'm going to stop fighting and just let things flow. And when I feel like I'm losing control, I'm going to remind myself that the only thing harder than leaving is staying.

Just because.

I'm blogging today not because I have much to say but because I just need to say something. If I don't, I may go crazy.

I'm at school and just had a rough first period. There's a girl in my class named Hippo and she's my biggest trouble maker out of both schools. She's obstinate, lazy, completely apathetic towards my class, snotty, and all around a pain. I don't know what to do with her. I've separated her from her friends (whom she could never stop talking to) and set her with a group of girls who work hard. However, instead of working, Hippo does nothing and tries to get another girl behind her off task. I found myself constantly trying to get her working today with absolutely no results. I can't motivate her with anything. She doesn't care about grades. She doesn't care about candy. She doesn't respond to punishment. The only thing she seems to excel at is frustrating me. And this happens every Wednesday. Every Wednesday I have her in class and every Wednesday I return to the office stressed out. I really wish she didn't affect me like this. I've got too many things to worry about right now. Having some bad students plaguing me as well just intensifies all those other troublesome things.

Plans for India are moving along. I've set a date to depart--September 4th--and I'm going to the embassy tomorrow to apply for my visa. I'm getting really excited and I've been reading a lot of my India travel guide, but I'm still scared to go alone. Why? This is so unlike me. Or maybe it isn't... I don't know anymore. Sometimes I seriously doubt whether I have enough courage to make this trip on my own. I'm really not as brave as you all might think. I'm only brave when I have to be, not when I want to be. And then I get to thinking and I tell myself, "Kortney, it's not Iraq. You'll be fine. There's nothing really dangerous about India." I think my biggest fear is going and finding myself alone the whole time. I don't want to be alone. I want to share every one of my adventures with someone. But maybe that's what this blog is for... Will you promise to comment on my posts? I need to know that someone is with me, if not in person, at least in thought.

I realized yesterday why so many Koreans struggle with pronunciation--they transliterate (is that a word?) everything from English to Korea (meaning they spell out English pronunciations in Korean). This causes some big problems because first, Korean is separated by syllables. Take for example my name: Kortney in English is only two syllables but Kortney 콜트니 in Korean is pronounced Kor-tuh-nee. Second, they add in certain symbols in order to make the word work in Korean. My name for example; instead of running the t and n together, they actually insert an uh sounding symbol between the two. Third, most Korean letters/symbols are not as flexible with sound as English letters. For example, the letter s has two sounds in English, s as in see and a combination sound with sh as in sheep. In Korean, there is only one s sound, that's sh. So when students try to say words like simple I often hear shimple instead. Make sense? You may need to study Korean in order to understand what I'm talking about.

Time for class! Be right back...

Hmm. Just finished my second class and I'm not sure what to say about it. Most girls did well and were really fun to work with but four girls refused to work; three of them stood in push-up position for 15 minutes; the fourth student followed the previous three but also did an additional 30 minutes for swearing at the Korean teacher. For the first time EVER I saw one of my co-teachers actually DO something to punish students without me initiating it. I hope my next and last class doesn't follow in the fashion of the first two...

I also just sent a fax to good ol' NU to request transcripts. Now THIS makes me angry. I had FIVE transcripts here in Korea and they have all disappeared--along with my iPod charger. What's up with that? It's not like I would have thrown them away. I never throw papers away. This seriously puts a kink in my UQ application process. It's going to take a lot longer to get my official transcript to UQ and longer for me to hear back. *Sigh* I'm not even really sure if the fax went through. I guess I'll have to call sometime tonight.

Funny side note: one of the ladies in the admin office is wearing a shirt that says "English Rocks" today.

You know what I need? A really good distraction. I need something to consume my thoughts and make me happy at the same time.

I'm going to go down town and get some passport photos. And eat lunch. Mmm. Yes, lunch.