西洋오랑캐

Prior to the immigration officals here telling me to not work, I was actively seeking employment…honestly I was! Perhaps I’ve been here too long and I’m not as trusting anymore, or maybe the 학원 (學院 / hagwon) owners in this area are slightly more dishonest, but while searching for jobs I had a hard time finding decent ones.

I’ve lived in Korea a while now, and I know what type of jobs I would be miserable working at, and therefore in my job search I avoided applying for things positions that included the word “kindy” in their discription. This was not so much that I hate kindergarten, it’s just that the chunk of a word that is, “kindy” annoys me to no end…it’s like people that use the letter U to mean “you,” but clearly I digress.

So as I was saying, jobs I know I don’t want, I don’t apply for. Apparently this technic doesn’t work that well here in Korea, since each and every job interview I ended up going to was completely different than the job I applied for. So here’s a run down.

The first job I applied for was a job that went from 9:30 until 2:00 including an hour for lunch. This was a kindergarten job, but they did not use the word “kindy,” I wake up early anyhow and would like to be home before 10:00pm, the pay was good, and it was apparently close to my house. At least that’s what the ad would have had me believe. In reality, the school was not the 15 minute walk from my home the ad made it out to be, but was more like an hour or so…there are buses, but I’ve had about all I can take of being bused to and from work (which is why I didn’t apply for jobs farther away), then in the meeting the lady acted as if she had not even read my resume (which she probably had not), “So did you graduate from college?” “Why yes I did…and you would have known that if you had read my resume beyond the phone number.” The thing that actually turned me off from the school the most was the fact that the alleged 9:30 to 2:00 was in reality 9:00 until 4:40 (which later morphed into 5:00) two days a week, and 9:00 to 7:00 three days a week with meetings after 7:00 ever Friday night. Thanks but no thanks. So the lady drew me a map of how to get back to the subway station (since someone had picked me up in a car).

Later I applied for a job for a position a couple subway stops away. It was a part-time job, the pay was good, the hours were awesome, and the location was good enough. A few days after applying for the position I recieved an e-mail from the fellow alerting me to an awesome position in the city of 일산 (Ilsan), which is not anywhere near where I am living. I alerted the fellow to this, “Wow, that is a pretty outstanding position, but I live nowhere near Ilsan and have no desire to move there. Please feel free to e-mail me with any jobs you have close to the place listed as my mailing address on my resume which you have a copy of,” interestingly enough I’ve yet to hear back from him.

And then there was the ultimate. I wanted so much for the job to be good. Really I did, but walking out of my apartment, bidding my wife farewell, I just knew that the job was going to be horrible. I arrived at the subway station where I was to meet this character for an interview and after a brief walk was at the school to have said interview.

So far my fears seemed to be unfounded. The interview went fairly well, the owner seemed to be a pretty amiable fellow, his English was a little hard to understand at times, but over all he seemed to be a alright guy, until he uttered this, “So now I’ll take you over to the school you’ll be teaching at. Let’s take my car it will be faster.”

So we got in the car and drove and drove for miles, past my house, past the super market, on and on we drove, listening to AFN Radio in the car while a computer bellowed directions at the driver in Korean, “TURN RIGHT IN 100 METERS! 50 METERS! 10 METERS! NOW ASSHOLE! NOW!!!” After what seemed like a century we arrived. “Ok Wyatt, no matter how bad the job is, at least feign interest so they will give you a ride home instead of drawing a map…there’s no way in hell you can walk home this time.”

We entered the school, which in all honesty looked great. A bubbly, yet impossible to understand woman greeted us in English…I think. Apparently this would be the woman I would actually be working for, so she too wanted to interview me. So she began to interview me, only I couldn’t understand her…so in Korean I told her, “저는 한국말 조금만 할 줄 알아요. 그래서…” But before I could finish that thought, she cut me off.

“NO KOREAN! YOU MUST ENGLISH!”

“But there aren’t any students here right now. Wouldn’t it be easier to speak Korean?”

“ENGLISH! YOU MUST ENGLISH!”

So I Englished, and muddled through the interview. She, for her part, went on and on about the school and it’s swimming pool (which was empty). I, having already spent more time than I wanted to at this interview, wanted to cut beating around the bush and get right to the point.

“Yes, the pool is nice, but could I see the contract.”

The contract came out and I looked it over. It seemed to be pretty standard fare: “We own you for one year. During that time, should you happen to look at us the wrong way, we retain the right to fire your ass and cancel your visa.” All in all a standard hagwon contract.

Among all the Engrish legalise, there was something I had never seen before in a contract. Apparently one of the reasons that could lead to the early termination of a teacher was “overt homosexuality.” There was a brief moment of outrage, and “That would never fly in America!” before I realized just how rediculous the wording was.

Overt homosexuality? To me that brings to mind hardcore gay sex, and if a guy happens to be on the giving or recieving end of some man-love at the school he should get canned. But, by that same token, engaging in overt heterosexuality at the school should be cause for dismisal. Is there something less offensive about heterosexual pounding in a kindergarten? The answer is no, and that both are disgusting and creepy.

As the lady continued talking about the virtues of an empty pool, I realized that they probably just meant “homosexuality.” I began thinking of the rammifications of such a stipulation. What if I were to wear a pink tie to work, or spend a little too much time on my hair one day, or happen to wear my assless chaps to work.

“Sorry Wyatt, we’re going to have to let you go…you’re in clear violation of the overt homosexuality clause.”

“But I’m straight! I can prove it!”

I was tempted to ask about this clause, but remembered I was miles from home, and had no idea how to return, so I held my tounge. What I did not hold my tounge about was housing.

All full-time teaching jobs in Korea (at least every job I’ve ever seen) offers their teachers an apartment, or money towards an apartment of the teacher’s own. Due to the fact that my marriage provided me with a vastly more badass house that any hagwon could ever offer, I went for option number two: the money.

“I have a house already, so I don’t need the apartment. How much of a housing allowance do you offer each month?”

“Zero.”

“Zero?”

“Yes, you already have a house.”

“I know, that’s why I want the money instead of a house.”

“But we don’t do that.”

“Then I’ll take an apartment.”

“But you said you have a house already.”

“I know, but you aren’t going to give me a housing allowance, so I want the apartment.”

By this time I’d had enough. A bait and switch, a lengthy car ride, getting yelled at for attempting to increase efficancy by speaking Korean, a prohibition on overt homosexuality, and now no housing. I was ready to go home…so I did.

The next day, some jerk at immigration told me not to work…so I stopped looking for a job, and started exercising.