Charpie's Travels

Each morning, I write all my kids' names on the board. This is where we keep track of happy faces and other little things. On this particular day, writing 12 names took nearly 20 minutes. Before I reached her row, Ann informed me that she was no longer Ann. "My name is Annie." So I added 'Annie' to the list. Not surprisingly, more kids suddenly needed different names. "Teachaaar!" Henry shouted. "I'm Hengry!!" He couldn't decide whether it meant he was hungry or angry, but he cracked himself up either way. Andy (the original name-shifter) chose to be Candy. Most recently, he'd been Qandy. Annabelle became Anne, and Ellizabeth decided to be Annabelle. Jini turned into Aini, and Justin became Iron Man.   Peter insisted on being Hakinman. Either it's something Korean or he didn't know how to spell Heineken Man. Maro decided on Karo, and Kelly chose Jelly. JunSeo and Jaden kept their real names and just enjoyed t

Koreans are quick to pull out their umbrellas at the slightest hint of rain. I thought carrying an umbrella was more work than it was worth for this morning's semi-drizzle. When I arrived at work (wetter than expected), a coworker explained it to me. Seoul rain is acid rain. Particularly on a day like today, when the rain is just beginning, the drops are loaded with nasties that no smart Korean wants on their skin, hair, or clothes.  When I first moved here, one of my students asked me for an A4 paper. I had no idea what he was talking about. When I realized he just wanted a sheet of 8 1/2 x 11 paper, I felt a little stupid. It occurred to me the other day that "8 1/2 x 11" now sounds like a really long and dumb name for a thin, little piece of paper. It's the little things.... My apartment building charges an elevator fee, and so I feel obligated to use it as often as possible. I'm not paying a stair fee.