Pain?

Because of the way the Korean language is structured, when Koreans speak English, they often add a ‘y’ to the end of a word, like ‘orange-y juice’ or ‘trash-y can.’ Thus, Meg becomes Meggy, the name I was called until I was nine. The teachers and students have laughed when I have been introduced as Meggy; today my co-worker told me that Meggy is a type of Korean fish. It’s like I’m being introduced as “Salmon” or “Tilapia.”

I’ve been walking a lot – I walk to and from school, and I’ve spent the last two evenings exploring the shops in our neighborhood. I fear a bit for my life when I’m walking, not because of I stick out or there’s a high crime rate (I don’t and there’s not). I’m scared because most intersections only have a blinking yellow light. There’s no order to going through a blinking yellow - cars, buses, pedestrians, bikers – they all just move in their direction and hope for the best. It’s as though someone thought, “There are a lot of people who want to get through this intersection. Why not let them all go at once? That would be the best way.” Fortunately, I’ve braved Bloor street and Queen’s Park Crescent often enough to know how to boss my way through. Or just run.

Yesterday was my first day teaching. I thought I was just introducing myself to my students for a few minutes, but after I talked for fifteen, I realized that my co-worker had nothing planned for the day, and I was meant to keep the kids involved for fourty-five minutes. Since I’m not a natural talker, and I’m jet-lagged, it was not the easiest thing I’ve ever done. The first class was absolutely dreadful, but I got much better by the end of the day. I wasn’t so happy about the sink-or-swim situation, but I got to gage how well they can speak and how shy they are; which ones are too scared to speak, and which ones can’t keep quiet.

After lunch yesterday, my coworker took pity on me and sent me to the “female teacher’s lounge,” a long, rectangular room with only a leather sofa to furnish it. I took a cup of green tea and my book. (It’s amazing how refreshing reading English can be after hours of listening to only Korean and broken English.) I noticed, however, that my pretty mug with daisies on it, also had some English writing:

The flower
I think I grow tensions
like flowers
in a wood where
nobody goes.

Each wonn (one?) is perfect
encloses itself in a tiny
imperceptible blossom
making pain.

Pain is a flower like that one,
like this one,
like that one,
like this one.