Ski School

Winter is creeping up on us here in Korea, and while it's far from the bitter cold and nastiness of the Canadian winter, it isn't without it's hardships. Lack of central heating, or any heating really, makes being at school a challenge every day now. My space heaters have just been set up, so that helps things warm up nicely, but it takes a good hour to get my classroom close to comfortable. Even when I do, the kids come in without closing the door, then open up every window in the room. I still haven't figured out exactly why - sometimes they're calling to their friends, but really I think they just like to complain about being cold.

And cold they are! On the last few days of the mild season, where I'm still in a tee-shirt but thinking about keeping my coat on during school, the kids (and sometimes the teachers) are bundled up like there's a blizzard outside. Gloves, ski jackets, toques, and even snowpants, are all showing up in my classroom, turning my students into a small army of abominable snow-men ready to hit the slopes. The older students usually aren't quite so dressed up, but instead they bring giant bunny slippers and blankets to class, and I'm not sure if they look like they're about to take an afternoon nap.

Just Another Day at the (Doctor's) Office

I came down with a horrible cold the other day, one of those ones that puts you out of commission for three or four days and makes you wish you'd never been born. I suppose it actually wasn't too bad, laying on the coach and reading or playing games all day, but I would've been much happier without it. Anyway, the point here is that it brought me back tot he doctor again. I also managed to get a case of tonsilitis this time, which wasn't in any rush to go away. The doctor I went to, a ears-nose-throat specialist, was another amazing adventure in Korean medical practicality and efficiency. The waiting room was packed when I got there, people were standing it was so full. The wait time? About 5-10 minutes. Each doctor had 1-2 nurses who rotated through the room, meaning there was always a nurse typing up reports and always one on hand to take down information as the doctor dictated it. I was called into the doctor's room while the other patient was just standing up to leave. He didn't speak much English, so we communicated mostly in Korean, but even then, there wasn't much to be said.

Open your mouth.

Tonsilitis. (He points to a diagram to help explain things)

Bam! In with the first spraying tube. Whap! In with the second.

Any muscle pain? Any back ache?

Zap! Another spray in my throat. Blammo! Something gets squirted up my nose.

Take lots of rest, take this medication, come back again if things don't seem right.

Before I'm out the door the next patient is sitting down to be examined.

Of course, with Korean medicine, a problem with anything from tonsils to toe-jam requires a shot in the bum, so I got my injection, was given a antibiotic prescription and sent on my way. The pills are kicking my ass now in a few interesting ways (nothing too serious), but my throat is a hundred times better now. There's something to be said as well for a medical system that can serve you so fast, costs $2-$3 a visit and doesn't rely on indecipherable scribblings from a doctor to determine what kind of possible life-saving medication you might need.

Well, that's all for this week. I'm off to a big elementary school teacher's meeting. Unlike most of the meetings we have, this one could actually give some benefit to me and my teaching skills. No one here ever seems to worry about my teaching skills. I hope at least the doctors in Korea get a little more guidance and review when it comes to doing their job.