Teaching Imagination: 101

The thing I find about teaching is that if you ever get bored, you can start making shit up for pure entertainment value.  And I don't mean make things up about English or whatever subject you're teaching, I try not to (*coughcough*) condone that sort of corruption (unless it's something funny), I mean I make things up about myself to tell the kids because I get tired of them asking me the same questions over and over again.

I have one student in my lowest level class, so he's probably kindy or 1st grade aged, he has pretty good English skills for his level and very good pronunciation skills for a Korean kid.  He's also extremely curious. He's always asking me questions...but he asks me the same questions over and over again.  He's asked me how old I am about four times now.  So, our last conversation went like this:

Kid: "Teacher, how old are you?" (which he blurts out in the middle of the lesson)

Me: "How old do you think I am?"

Kid: "32." (Which is not far off!)

Me: "Nope, you're wrong...I'm 100."

Kid: "100?!"

Me: "Yep, 100 years old."

Kid: "Whoa!"

Me: "I look pretty good for my age, right?"

Kid: "Yes, teacher!"

Keep in mind, I have told him my real age four times already.  You think he'd move on to a different subject...which, he did...

A little while later, the kid asked me if I am a mother.  I replied, "Yes, I am the Mother of Dragons."  (Shout out to Daenerys...the real Mother of Dragons).  That one is going to take a little more convincing though, he just turned around and walked away.

In three of my other classes, older students - maybe 4th or 5th grade - we were learning about mysteries. One of their stories was about hunting for the Loch Ness Monster.  Having been to Loch Ness in Scotland before, I told my classes, with the most serious face I could muster (usually I crack a smile, but this time I kept my cool), that I had seen the Loch Ness Monster and took a picture of her.  Of course they demanded I show them the picture at once.  So for the next class, I went onto to Google, found myself a not-so-obvious fake photo of Nessie, saved it to my phone to show my classes.  I think for the most part they were convinced...at least they didn't respond like they normally do when I make shit up for them...

My "pet" alien...From Flight of the Navigator

We were also talking about aliens in those classes - there was a story about aliens possibly being responsible for building the Great Pyramids of Egypt.  So...in typical Kaycee Teacher fashion, I told them I have a pet alien.  I now need to hunt down a Google image (I keep forgetting and my classes keep reminding me...) of the wee alien from Flight of the Navigator - you know the one who dances to the Beach Boys - to show them a picture of my pet alien.  I've already told them I can't bring him into class, he was homesick and had to go back to his home planet.




My newest tale of late is that I'm trying to convince all of my classes that Captain America is my boyfriend.  I'm pretty sure my older students know I'm full of shit, but as for my lower level classes, that remains to be seen.  This was my conversation the other day:

Kid (not the same kid from above): "Teacher? Captain America is your boyfriend?"

Me: "Yes.  Isn't he handsome?"

Kid: "Captain America really your boyfriend?"

Me: "Yes."

Kid: "Do you kiss?"

Me: "Of course...he's my boyfriend.  Duh."

Kid: (turns around to the rest of the class) "Teacher KISS Captain America!!!"

Class erupts in giggles (from girls) and eeew's (from boys)...

Me: "Dudes, of course I kiss Captain America...he is my boyfriend.  Now get back to work!"  (I was about to lose my straight face...)

One of my 4th grade student's writing homework...She's convinced that Captain America is my dude.
This is what I call "Winning at teaching".

For the last 11 months (wow, I can't believe I've been at my school for 11 months already), I've played up the "April Ghost" scenario (our academy is called April).  Anytime something odd happens in my room, I blame it on the April Ghost.  The door rattling (because kids in the next room are bumping the wall), it's just April Ghost knocking on the door to say "hi".  (I tell the students to open the door to answer it, but there is no one there...they completely freak out).  My mouse cursor moving on the smart TV (because I don't have a mouse pad under it), it's just April Ghost saying "hi".  The white noise the speakers in my room randomly make, it's just April Ghost saying "hi".  One clever kid said the mouse thing was a computer error (he's too clever for his own good). The majority of the others, though, they're always talking about April Ghost.

Korean kids, for the most part, are pretty clever.  And when I tell them these things, they're quick to know I'm making shit up, so I stay with the stories and play them out as much as possible.  If anything, I'm trying to develop their imaginations...at least, that's what I like to tell myself ;)

Happy Trails!

South Korea Fun Facts #'s 3-9

I haven't done any South Korea Fun Facts in a while, so I'm going to go crazy and dedicate a blog purely for SKFF's. 

South Korea Fun Fact #3: Spit

Korean guys LOVE to spit.  It's fucking disgusting.  When I'm walking to and from work, I have to dodge spit pile after spit pile...not only stepping in it, but avoiding my crutches in the spit piles as well - spit is slippery!  Seriously, it's nasty.  Just this morning, I was waiting for the elevator in my apartment building when I heard a guy coming down the corridor, he hacked and spit a loogie...IN THE APARTMENT CORRIDOR!!  Then he joined me on the elevator.  Ugh!!

South Korea Fun Fact #4: Hair perms

It's almost like South Korea never advanced from the 80's with regards to hair perms.  They're so popular here...and not really in a good way.  They're so popular that when I go from having a straight-hair week to letting my hair go naturally curly, staff and students at my school always ask me if I've had a perm. 

South Korea Fun Fact #5: Car Lemmings

South Koreans are notorious for not embracing individuality.  They generally try to look the same (Korea is the country to come to if you're looking for plastic surgery); they rarely try to stand out in a crowd.  This even includes the color of their cars.  I would say about 85-90% of Korean's cars are either white, black, or silver.  If they're not white, black, or silver, they don't stray too far from those colors...maybe cream or gold.  Rarely do you see red cars, blue cars, green cars.  I knew my Korean co-teacher was a badass the moment I saw her car: sparkly orange.  Hers is the only car of that color that I've seen in Korea.

South Korea Fun Fact #6: Hello? Is It Me You're Looking For?

Because South Korea is a relatively small country with a relatively high population, it's built towards the sky.  The cities and suburbs are full of high rises which are full of intercoms.  This includes apartments.  Every apartment comes with it's own intercom speaker that, every now and then, likes to wake you up at 7am on a Saturday or Sunday morning with an important Korean announcement.  I just hope they're not announcing the apocalypse...I wouldn't understand a word of what was being said, therefore having no time to get my zombie apocalypse plan set in motion.  I'd be fucked.

The high rises of Hwajeong

South Korea Fun Fact #7: Smelly Kimchi

I'm not the biggest fan of Korean food.  It's either too spicy, too pickled, too bland, or too sweet for my taste.  But Koreans loooooooove their kimchi.  Spicy, garlicky, fermented cabbage.  They even have special refrigerators for it.  And it stinks.  When Koreans eat a lot of kimchi, which is pretty much all the time, the smell just flows from their pores and is gag-worthy.  Especially the older generation, I'm sorry to say they reek of smelly kimchi.  There's nothing worse than stepping onto a stuffy subway car crammed with older folks who smell like kimchi.  I need to invent something to insert up my nose to block out the smell of kimchi.

South Korea Fun Fact #8: You Can't Sit Here (said in the voices of the kids on the school bus in Forrest Gump)

Koreans generally don't like sitting next to me on the subway (I don't really like to sit next to them because of SKFF #7...).  If the subway car seats are full when I am sitting and a spot opens up at the next stop, nine times out of ten, Koreans who sit next to me will get up and move to the other open seat.  At first, I was slightly offended, and wondered if I have a weird American smell that they don't like.  But after a while (and when I realized they do this to my foreign friends as well), I didn't mind...actually, I was kind of grateful that I could stretch out a bit.  When I was coming back from the doctor last week, there was an open seat next to me.  Two ladies, not together, one by one stepped onto the subway, looked at me, looked at the seat, then walked to the next subway car were there were more open seats without any foreigners.  Whatever...more room for my ass!

And finally...
South Korea Fun Fact #9: An Endangered Species: The Book Reader

Koreans love technology.  It's the most connected nation in the world.  I read a percentage, which actually seemed quite low - and I can't remember the percentage, maybe 60%, of the amount of Koreans that have smart phones.  Even some of my students, who are like, 8 years old, have iPhone's or Samsung Galaxy's.  Sure, they're probably recycled from the parent's, but still!  When you step on the subway or bus, 95% of the people on it have their heads down in their smart phones playing games.  They even carry around extra batteries for their phones.  A rare occasion indeed is seeing someone with an actual, real, page-turning book on the subway.  When you see it, you have to document it.  It's like seeing an endangered animal in the wild.  Does it really exist?  Absolutely...and I only believe it because I photographed it.

An endangered species: The Subway Book-Reader

For South Korea Fun Fact #1, check out Doctor, my eyes... and you can learn about Fan Death.

For South Korea Fun Fact #2, check out It's a nice day, for a...white wedding and you can learn about smoking.

Happy Trails!

Wasting Time...in the Andaman Sea - A Photo Blog

Dreaming of sandy beaches and clear, turquoise waters, I bring you my newest photo blog of the few weeks I spent lounging on Koh Ngai in the Andaman Sea.

After I completed my TEFL certificate in February 2012, it was time to find a job.  Having imagined myself teaching wee Thai monsters in the mornings and spending lazy afternoons on a palm tree studded beach with a Mai Thai in my hand, I left Chiang Mai and headed south to Krabi to look for work.  I spent a few days in Krabi learning how to ride a motorbike and dropping off my CV at the schools in the area.  Meanwhile, my friend Laudi, who was a fellow student on my TEFL course, was living on Koh Ngai - a small island off the coast of Trang - with her diver-instructor boyfriend.  She invited me to come stay with them while I waited to hear about any job offers.  Her friend Laura was coming to visit from the Netherlands.  We spent the next few weeks lounging on hammocks and snorkeling in the beautiful Andaman Sea.

Catching the longtail boat from Trang to Koh Ngai

Sailors: Laudi, me, and Laura
(No, I wasn't intentionally flipping everyone off, I'm just no good at throwing "peace" signs)

Tu, preparing the fishing gear...I think.

First glimpse of Koh Ngai

Hanging out with the divers of Ronan Dive

Our first night, we headed to Koh Ra to snorkel while divers of Ronan Dive headed out for a night dive...
Overnight camping on a boat!

Beautiful Koh Ra

Storm brewing over Koh Ra...it was a doozy!

Waking up on a boat to this
Sunrise on the Andaman

From Koh Ra, we headed to Koh Rok, a national park

Beautiful beach of Koh Rok

Koh Rok

Looking out from Koh Ngai

Koh Ngai sunset

Sometimes, I sing on beaches

Enjoying a nice evening on the beach of Koh Ngai

Unfortunately, while I was in the south, I never received a call regarding a job in Krabi.  So, running out of money (because the south of Thailand is a bit more expensive than the north), I headed back to Chiang Mai...and 24 hours later was offered a job.  About three weeks after that, I received a call from a school in Krabi.  I'm still cursing myself that I didn't back out of my contract and head back to the beach.  Hindsight is always a bitch.

If you dig solitude and quiet beach life, check out Koh Ngai.  Additionally, if you want to learn how to dive, here is a link for my friend's dive shop, Ronan Dive.

Happy Trails!

And what's a beach blog without a little Jack?

Learning lessons the (very) hard way

I don't know why, but I was brooding on this last night...

I'm still walking on crutches and in a walking boot from my ankle surgery in December.  When people ask me what happened and I tell them the story about getting hit by a motorbike, nine times out of ten they always ask me if I got money for it.  No, I didn't.  I got a $2.50 taxi ride home from the hospital.  [insert their shocked expressions here].

In hindsight, obviously I should have received a little more compensation than a $2.50 taxi ride.  But let me explain my reasoning why I didn't pursue anything.

First of all, I'm a solo, white, female traveler.  I was alone at the time of my accident...I was taking a walk before meeting up with my friend later in the day.  Thai people have an extremely narrow view of the world.  Nothing against it, it's just how they are taught, it's part of their culture.  They believe that any foreign person that comes to their country must surely be wealthy because wealthy people can afford to get on a big plane and fly half way around the world.  Foreigners are overcharged for pretty much everything.  I call it Skin Tax.  My first week in Thailand, a guy that was on my TEFL course was involved in an accident.  He was on a motorbike, merging onto the highway when a young lady in a car hit him.  He was lucky to be alive.  When the police showed up, although it was ENTIRELY the Thai person's fault, the police made my friend pay her 1,000 baht for damages to her car.  This was the first thought that went through my head when I was hit.  Fuck you if you make me pay three underage, irresponsible girls for hitting me with a motorbike because I'm foreign.  Reason #1 why I didn't request to call the (corrupt) police.

Secondly, thinking rationally is pretty difficult to do after something like that happens to you.  I was in shock, in severe pain, and downright scared.  All rationality went flying out the window as fast as Indiana Jones goes running through a jungle being chased by a bunch of pissed of indigenous tribe members with spears, only to come back after it was too late to do anything about it.

Finally, I didn't know the rules of the game.  That sounds, and is, completely naive and foolish.  I should have known better or at least had the knowledge that there are police for tourists.  I should have taken the girl's name and number.  I should have called a friend when I got to the hospital.  I should have...I should have...I should have....You can say "I should have" about a number of things.  But the fact remains that I didn't and it is a lesson learned.  I can't change it, so I must move on.

Those girls got off cheap.  A $2.50 taxi fare when they should have fronted the $250 doctor bill and paid my substitute teacher for the time I had to take off from work (many schools don't give you sick time...if you're out, you have to pay the substitute out of your pocket...bullshit I know, but that's been my experience with teaching in Asia, so far).  When I pulled my insurance card at the hospital, those girls should have come forth and said it was their duty to pay.  But they didn't.  Maybe Karma will come back to them eventually.  It is what it is.

So no, I didn't get a big payday from any of this.  I'm still broke like a joke.  But invaluable lessons were learned.

My advice: know who is in your corner when you're traveling to a new country, especially a non-English speaking country.  Hopefully nothing will happen to you, but no one is invincible.  Make sure you have the right tools in your pocket!

Happy Trails!

What's Your Tribe?

I realized I've only written about three posts in the last five months.  I do have a lot of excuses for this, but the main one is the fact that I'm in limbo right now.  The "next stage of my life" limbo.  So I haven't really been feeling like sharing a lot right now, because I'm trying to sort out everything in my head that has seemly gone to the madhouse!

However, I was listening to a podcast last month and a "tribal" topic came up (yes, I've been thinking about and writing a few shit drafts of this blog for the last month as well).  I found this topic interesting because I've always felt I've had a problem with "belonging" - even during my childhood.  I was the youngest and nerdiest in my family, so when we were all together for some family function or another, no one ever really talked to me.  I always felt like a bit of an outcast of sorts.  (That's all changed now, and I love my family dearly and I always look forward to seeing them when I'm home, but as a kid, man, I felt rough!)  So, I really like the idea of belonging to a tribe based on an idea of something that I and a group of people are really interested in.  This idea has made me feel less alone recently knowing that I actually do belong to something. 

Since moving to Asia two years ago, I've found that I've had a very difficult time making friends.  I have a few friends here and there (some better than others), but I think I've only made one or two real connections with people.  The connections and friends that I made while living in England were far more abundant and deeper than they've been in Thailand and Korea, for sure.  I was making my life in England with the locals whereas here, I'm making my life with other nomadic foreigners (purely based on language barriers).  We all have our own separate and temporary plans that may or may not take us around the world, so it seems many of the people I've met, myself included, don't invest as much in friendships.  Not developing deeper friendships has left me with a deeper sense of loneliness than ever before.  So this idea of belonging to a tribe has, in this last month, helped to alleviate some of those feelings.

So what tribes do I belong to?

The most obvious one - if you know me - is the Broncos Country Tribe.

I was born a Bronco and I will die a Bronco.  Cut me and I bleed orange.  I was having a conversation with a friend the other day who I met last year during the off season.  I had told her then that I'm a football fan and Bronco lover and was telling her, if she was interested, where are the places to go to watch football in Chaing Mai.  She told me that last year, she didn't realize how insanely crazy I get during the NFL season.  If you follow me on Twitter, you'll notice that between August and December, 90% of the things I tweet about are Bronco related.  I'm kind of close to the fandom level of the Boston Red Sox fan Jimmy Fallon plays in Fever Pitch (I would use Raider toilet paper if I could find it...and now, I would most DEFINITELY use Seahawk toilet paper during a severe case of diarrhea).  The Broncos are my thing.  It's the only thing that makes me truly homesick.  Yeah, I miss things from home, but I get sick about the Broncos.  Yes, I'm definitely a Broncos Country Tribe Member.  Since 1981.

Although I don't live there anymore, I'm a member of the Colorado Native Tribe.

Back in my England days, I remember having a conversation with someone who mentioned that every American she had met is very "State proud".  I had never realized before then that when people asked me where I was from, I would never say I was from America.  It was always "Colorado".  To which they would normally reply, "Canada? Nice!".  Really?  Canada?  Nope.  I got that so many times!  A drunk guy once spent an hour trying to convince me that Colorado was in Canada...Like I didn't know where I really came from.  Anyways, I digress.  I am proud to be from Colorado.  In my mind, it really is THE greatest of the American States.  I even wrote a Rocky Mountain High in Colorado blog on great things to do if you find yourself in the west.  My lifelong membership to the Colorado Native Tribe began, again, in 1981.

Finally, I'd say the other tribe I belong to is the Expat Tribe.

I really hate the term "ex-patriot".  Can't stand it.  Just because I live outside of the United States does not make me an ex-"patriot".  I'm still very patriotic about my homeland.  Actually, living outside of the US has made me more of a patriot than I was before.  Seeing how (some) of the rest of the world lives definitely helps me appreciate how easy and comfortable life is in the US.  It's something that I wish more people would try to understand, then maybe there would be less of a governmental rift that is happening in the US right now.  Travelling changes a person.  It opens minds, it makes you stronger and more brave (especially doing it solo), it unleashes a wanderlusting beast within us.  It's changed me.  I've been in limbo for the last few months (which is part of the reason why I haven't written much) because I'm not sure what my next steps are in life.  I've been toying with the idea of moving back to the States, but that idea is not satisfying.  I feel I've been too far gone to go back now.  And there are too many, WAY too many places yet to see.  Yes. I have been a member of the Expat Tribe since 2004 (although I wish they would change the name to "Traveller Who Lives Outside of Their Home Country Tribe").

There are probably a few smaller tribes I feel I belong to (like the Game of Thrones Tribe, or the Death Cab For Cutie Tribe), but these are the three tribes that give me a sense of pride and really make my soul gleam.  They're who I am and what I belong to. 

What tribes do you belong to?

Happy Tribal Trails!

For all of you other Rambler's out there...

The Mac Dad'll Make ya Jump Jump!

I've been extremely negligent about writing these last few months, but I've really had nothing to say travel-wise as I've been cooped up, recovering from surgery (new spring-time adventures are on the horizon, my friends!)

However, I was listening to the Nerdist Podcast over the weekend and a few un-nerdy, travel topics peaked my interest.

Chris Hardwick, the host of Nerdist and a person who I find to be fucking hilarious, was interviewing Kit Harington, who plays Jon Snow on Game of Thrones.  They were on the topic of GoT film locations and what it's like to be shooting a scene in Iceland, walking backwards, in a blizzard, on the edge of a 500 ft cliff.  Chris asked Kit if he was ever afraid of falling off the cliff, to which Kit responded that he has more a fear of jumping off the cliff.

I find this absolutely fascinating...mainly because I'm not the only weirdo who feels like this.

I've never had a fear of heights.  There's something about standing on the edge of a cliff or a mountain that's completely exhilarating.  I've also never been afraid of falling if you get too close to the edge.  But I have had that feeling of just wanting to jump from it...(not at all in a suicidal manner). 

The Cliffs of Moher

In particular, I'm thinking of trips my to the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland, or driving over steep mountain passes in the Rockies (for my fellow Coloradans, driving over Monarch Pass between September through May...yikes!).  Surely, you would more than likely die if you jumped, or veered your car off the side of the mountain, but there's still this weird curiosity of what would happen...

A jump that would surely bludgeon you

A loooong way down!

I've never brought this topic up because I never wanted people to assume I was suicidal, when I'm 100% NOT (I like living - please read that in the voice of Tyrion Lannister).  But, now that I know I'm not the only one who feels like this...what is it?  What part of our brain gives us this urge to do something that would surely either cause us a tremendous deal of pain or potentially kill us?  Is it really some crazy mortality obsession within ourselves, or does it have to do with the fragility of life?  Over the past two years, I've become all too aware of how fragile our bodies are.  One misstep can change your life a little, or even drastically - physically and mentally.

I find it endlessly interesting.

This "fear of jumping", I believe, can also be applied to our lives in general.  I find many people, myself included, deny themselves a full life because of a fear of what would happen if they took that plunge.  (I actually wrote a blog on how fear can keep people from traveling.  Read it here.) 

Now, I'm not encouraging you to jump of an insane cliff or drive off of the side of a mountain if you get that urge, but try something new if you have that feeling.  Travel to a new place - be it a city in your home state that you've never been to or a city in a different country.  Try the local food, at least once.  You might like it, and if you don't, at least now you know.  Get up and dance if a song is making you tap your toes!  Don't let a fear of jumping take over your life...just don't let it go so far as to actually jump off a cliff ;)

I went beyond the point.  Because that's how I roll.

Listen to the full Nerdist Postcast here.

Happy Trails!

P.S. The fear of jumping is like wiggity wiggity wiggity whack.

Korean hospitals and the road to recovery!

I know it's a bit late (and it's been a while since my last post), but Happy New Year!  I am making 2014 a year of new adventures, as I will hopefully be back in full adventure-form in a few months.

I have been quite negligent on my blog recently as I've had a lot to sort out in my head.  The final few games of the Broncos regular season and getting my ankle sorted were my two main preoccupations.  Now that my Broncos have clinched the top seed in the playoffs and I've finally had surgery on my ankle, I can focus on getting more blogs out there while I'm off from work recovering this month.

I don't really have anything to compare it to since the last time I had surgery in America I was in kindergarten.  But I would say my experience in the Korean hospital was as pleasant as it could be, considering.  I feel, as well as my doctor, my surgery went well and in three to six months (pushing for three!), I'll be off on painless, never-ending adventures once again!  Roll on spring!

One of the main differences about staying in a hospital in Korea is that a family member stays with you at all times to take care of the basic care-giving that nurses in the US otherwise take care of.  Your family member is there to help you with jaunts to the restroom, changing clothes if assistance is needed, bring you your meals - from what I understand, the hospital catering leaves it outside your room.  You know, just the basic care-giving.  Per each bed in the hospital, there is a cot next to it for your family member to sleep on.  I think, because I was the family-less foreigner, the nurses were doing more for me than what they would normally do.  Lucky for them, after the first two days from my surgery, I was more capable of some things. 

Poor wee poppet!

I feel that the main problem with having a family member guest per each patient is that the rooms become quite crowded...and noisy.  I was unfortunate enough to have as my first two roommates, some serious snorers.  I kid you not, the lady's husband shook the windows when he snored.  And she wasn't much quieter.  So, not much sleep at night!  And I couldn't get sleep during the day since their entire family decided to come and visit all day, every day.  There was between six to ten people by her bed every single day.  That wasn't annoying or anything.  It would be nice if there was a limit on how many people can visit a person at once, and with shorter visiting hours so patients can get rest.  (My second roommates were quite alright! They didn't snore and they gave me some juice...so I gave them some chocolate!)

The food was, well, hospital food.  My first meal was a Korean meal.  I'm not too fond of Korean food, so I'm sure you can imagine how I felt about Korean hospital food.  Lucky enough, the nurse asked me if I would like Western meals, so that was at least more edible for me.

Korean hospital food o_O

Overall, my experience was well enough.  There were no communication problems.  The nurses and doctors spoke enough English. 

5 screws and the bone of a Korean man later...
Now, I'm part Korean!

All that truly matters now is that I'm on the road to a successful recovery.  My boss helped me get home once I was discharged from the hospital.  He couldn't believe how expensive my bill was...I couldn't believe how cheap it was.  I'm sure it would have been three or four times as much had I had the surgery in the US. 

On the road to recovery with a Bronco-blue cast and
United In Orange toes!  Go Broncos!!

Here's to an adventurous 2014...when the spring arrives ;)

Happy Trails!

A grand song about a non-surgical recovery!