The Knowledge Workshop

Teach English in Japan

2018-07-19T16:09:00.000+02:00

Hello, TKWFam! Hope all is well.

It’s winter, in the South at least, but with spring fast approaching, what better time to begin the process that will land you that dream job.

Have you ever considered teaching English as a foreign language in Japan, and then abandoned the idea because the application process was just too long-winded? Well, times have changed. This is where we come in, so read on.

Being an EFL teacher is a lifestyle choice rather than just a job. Traveling the world, teaching, and earning, is not as 'pie in the sky' as you might think. It does however begin with planning and preparation. Forewarned is forearmed! Provided you meet the requirements for employment and follow the required, and sometimes painfully laborius, bureaucratic process you can and will find a job. It’s about attitude too!

If you want to legally work in Japan, or any country for that matter where EFL teachers are employed, you need to hold a minimum of a bachelor’s degree, speak English as a mother-tongue, and have a recognised TEFL qualification. While there are many jobs in the international teaching industry, competition is exceptionally high, so it matters that you come suitably qualified.

TKW is still training teachers through our highly acclaimed 120-hour, in-class TEFL/TESOL course (next course starts 13 August - bookmark this date!), but more so, we are helping our TEFL graduates secure great jobs internationally.

Robert Gardner, a recent TKW TEFL graduate, now working in Japan, caught up with us to share his experience of Japan so far. After completing our January/February 2018 TEFL course, we connected Robert with a recruiter in Japan. Everything happened rather quickly from that point onwards…

Robert Gardner, EFL teacher, Japan

"Teaching English overseas is a great way to travel, gain work experience and earn decent money. After graduating with a BA in Fine Art from the University of Cape Town, it occurred to me that I had a strong desire to travel and experience a culture that is totally foreign to me. I had heard that you could teach English in Japan if you had a degree and a TEFL qualification and so, at the recommendation of a trusted friend, I signed up for the first TEFL course of 2018 at The Knowledge Workshop. It was a great experience and gave me the confidence I needed to start teaching.

Robert with Young Learners

I've been in Saitama, Japan, for nearly three months and I'm really enjoying it. A lot of the time it doesn't even feel like work! I've formed a good rapport with my students and I enjoy seeing them every day. I teach at a different school every day of the week which is very manageable with Japan's stellar transportation system. My students range between 4 and 75 years of age, so there's plenty of variety! I would highly recommend teaching English in Japan; you will have a unique opportunity to live and work in a beautiful country and you'll probably end up learning just as much as you teach!"

We hope Robert’s story inspires you to go out and have your own big TEFL adventure, whether in Japan or some other exciting destination. Contact us for more information on our upcoming TEFL courses and some exciting job opportunities coming available.

Hope to hear from you soon. Till next time.

Robert, out and about in Ginza, Japan

Catching up...

2017-07-08T19:09:00.000+02:00

Catching up…

Hello, TKW Family. It’s been a while, but that doesn’t mean things have been quiet – in fact, quite the opposite!

This is to catch you up on some of the major changes we’ve undergone in the last half year. For those of you who are not in the know, we are no longer based in Observatory, TKW’s home for three amazing years. It might also surprise some of you to know that we no longer occupy fixed premises, but this is all part of our grand evolution into a – dare I say it? – pop-up school! TKW is now free to go wherever our services are needed.

Remember this?

For now, we have partnered with Language Link College in Rosebank, Cape Town, where we host our highly acclaimed 120-hour in-class TEFL/TESOL course. We’ve had a great run so far, having successfully hosted three TEFL courses there already.

While TEFL/TESOL training has to date been our primary concern, we’ve expanded our services to include job placement in the EFL industry. Opportunities are available to any native English speaker with a valid 120-hour in-class TEFL/TESOL qualification. Contact us directly for more information.

But what about our other services, like our language programmes for foreign and second language speakers? Well, we’re not about to leave any family member out in the cold, so here is what we can do for you:

If you’re a foreign student in need of an English language school, but don’t know where to begin looking, TKW can help you. Our intimate knowledge of the language centre industry in Cape Town puts us in a unique position where we are able to guide you, give you advice on courses that would best fit your needs and budget, and ultimately help you find a school that is right for you. Our school-finding service will cost you nothing as we would receive a referral fee from the school you decide to study with. By allowing us to help you, you help us too! And this is what family is all about.

Also, unique to TKW is our Language Improvement programme for South Africans for whom English is not a mother-tongue. Over the 10+ years of TKW’s lifespan we’ve assisted many South Africans improve their language ability, grow their confidence, and ultimately access better opportunities. Our programme has catered to local businesses and individuals, filling a much-needed gap, and it would be a travesty if we weren’t able to continue doing so. While we can no longer accommodate face-to-face classes, we can, however, bring our training to you. With a network of exceptional and dedicated teachers, we are able to match you to a tutor who will deliver training on site. We can accommodate group as well as one-to-one tuition. Contact us for a personal, professional, no obligation quote.

So, that’s hopefully caught you up. TKW’s website (cringe) is sadly out of date, but currently undergoing a major overhaul. So bear with us, we’re almost there. Keep up to date by following us on FB and stay abreast of changes as they happen, and also job opportunities – remember we’re now placing teachers.

Till next time!

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #9. A zest for life: find it now (or forever hold your peace) by Shannon Norman

2016-07-28T11:42:00.002+02:00

There’re about 65 gazillion facts in this world. Just kidding! I mean, hello! How the heck would I know? Luckily for you, I’m not going to be harping on about 65 gazillion facts. You may breathe now. Instead, I would very much like to share with you just four facts that I’ve learned since becoming a TEFL trained teacher (and why you should do a TEFL course).

Fact #1: Mindset is everything…literally

Being in the TEFL industry, and more specifically, teaching at The Knowledge Workshop for almost a year and a half has expanded my mind and has changed the way I see the world. The reason for this is that TEFL takes you out of your comfort zone, and forces you to think differently. It goes without saying, therefore, that mindset matters if you’re thinking of becoming an EFL teacher. It is important to approach TEFL with an open mind and to embrace the challenges that go hand-in-hand with doing something new. Sometimes the hardest thing about doing a TEFL course is grappling with new ideas. Once the mental shift is made, you become free to explore all sorts of options you might not have considered before.

Shannon observing ideas unfold

Fact #2: Creativity has no limit

I can’t draw to save my life, unless you count stick figures, and anyone who knows me can vouch for this. Despite my artistic shortcomings, I still consider myself a highly creative individual because of the different facets of creativity I’ve been able to explore since I entered the industry. Whether you’re a teacher or engaged in some other profession, it’s important that you seek new ways of being more creative. Creativity is not just about being able to paint, draw or sculpt. Creativity knows no bounds. In fact, you are limited only by what you cannot imagine. So when I encounter new TEFL candidates who find their creativity somewhat lacking, I don’t worry about how they’re going to get through their training. I know that our course has the power to change things around for them, and very quickly, they exceed their own expectations as creative thinking takes hold.

Fact #3: Interpersonal skills are a must-have, okay!

It’s alright to be introverted, says me, the extrovert. But it’s not alright if it prevents you from working and communicating within a group. Adults are often the worst when it comes to this. There are adults who distance themselves from others and there are adults who take over like a 90s boy band. The thing is, if you want to be an EFL teacher, and a successful one at that, you must understand the power of working in a group and interacting meaningfully with all sorts of people, regardless of your personal preferences. Herein lies the opportunity for growth – we learn from each other!

This is what happens when TEFLers and students get together

Fact #4: Giving up is for sissies (and you’re not a sissy)

Big or small, achievements are worth celebrating and there is a feeling of triumph that comes with seeing something through to the end. So guys, the moral of the story: just don’t give up. As an EFL teacher, I can say without a doubt that it’s not smooth sailing all of the time. There are going to be good days and bad days, but the good, fortunately, far outweigh the bad. When I hear folks on the TEFL course say things like, “I can’t do this” or “I’m not good at that”, I just want to say, “Hey, just keep your eye on the prize. It will be worth it in the end”. Our TEFL course takes candidates on an intense, three-week journey of discovery - of self, of others, and the world around them. It’s amazing what we find, when we actually choose to look at the world through a different set of lenses. Obstacles become mere challenges; dreams become destinations.

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Now, I really hope that someone has read this far because this last little bit is what I’ve been dying to say: embrace the unknown and unleash what’s inside of you. I’m certain that there’s more to YOU than you think. For me, discovering these four facts has been pretty awesome. I always knew it, but it took a TEFL course for me to truly understand it. If you’re on the fence about doing a TEFL course, I strongly suggest that you get off the fence. Just jump off today and don’t look back. Fences are 100% overrated anyway.

No one can find your zest for life, but you. So what’s it going to be?

Shannon with a few TEFlers: all of them jumped off the fence

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #8: What the heck just happened? by Shannon Norman

2016-05-13T17:13:00.002+02:00

What the heck just happened?...by Shannon Norman

When the unexpected hits you it tends to leave you quite surprised, doesn’t it? Whether you like surprises or not, you can’t really run away from them. Granted, some surprises are definitely better than others. There are those which cause heartache, frustration even rage. And then there are those which keep you smiling, laughing and reminiscing days, weeks and even months after the fact. Regardless, it’s important to realise that a surprise keeps you on your toes and reminds you that life is meant to be celebrated whether you’re the centre of attention or not. I discovered this not too long ago when I came face to face with my surprise…

Setting the scene

It was a Monday evening when I received a text message from Naureen, TKW’s Office Manager and Student Liaison. Her message was simple. She asked if we could go for dinner the following evening. In fact, she wanted to speak to me about something serious and naturally I said that I would be all ears. I felt quite pleased to be the person that she wanted to confide in.

The next day was quite busy here at TKW and I never thought about the dinner until much later in the afternoon when I asked Naureen if our ‘date’ was still on.To be honest, I was just dying to get more details out of her, but I managed not to ask too many questions.

Lights, camera, ACTION!

“Timbuktu,” I said out loud as we approached the entrance of the restaurant. “This seems interesting,” I said excitedly, pointing at one of the quaint ornaments in the walkway.

“Could we have a table for two, please”, Naureen asked. Despite the very specific request, we got quite a large table with a ‘reserved’ sign on it, which the waiter removed after we sat down. I thought it a little strange, but didn’t dwell on it for longer than a couple of seconds. We spent the next few moments admiring the unique, cosy environment, filled with African masks and sculptures. I knew I was in for a treat. I later learned that it was an authentic Ethiopian restaurant, a first for me.

Naureen gestured for the waiter...to my complete surprise, a group of TEFL graduates appeared before my eyes and not the waiter I was expecting to see. They had graduated a week before, so I was taken aback when I saw them approaching our table. There was Jayd with guitar in hand, Harry with a bunch of flowers, followed by David and Tylan. I still had no idea what was going on. I was about to tell Naureen that her boyfriend, Harry, was about to propose because that’s honestly what it looked like. But before I could get a word out, the bunch of exquisite flowers was neatly placed in front of me and the group of TEFLers broke out in song:

“We thank you, Shannon, you gave us confidence

We admire you, Shannon, you are exceptional

We admire you, Shannon, you are remarkable

We admire you, Shannon, you are irreplaceable

We thank you, Shannon, cos you believed in us

We love you, Shannon, you made it look effortless.”

Listen to the song on soundcloud!

https://soundcloud.com/user-78461912/thank-you-shannon

April TEFLers singing their original composition, Thank you, Shannon.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. “All of this for me?” Jayd strummed her guitar and everyone sang to the tune, which I thought was one helluva cool tune. It was obvious that they had all made an effort to learn the song in order to pull off such a fantastic surprise.

There were a number of emotions coursing through me. I couldn’t decide whether to cry tears of joy, laugh and enjoy the moment, or bury my face in my hands.

You see, I don’t deal well with compliments. I had difficulty accepting that they appreciated my mentorship and my teaching. I mean, they were literally singing my praises, yet I couldn’t give myself a pat on the back. It was only later that I began to accept that it’s absolutely okay to feel special and regard yourself as a good teacher when moments call for it. It's important to recognise your hard work and celebrate your successes, and truly feel proud of yourself. This industry is not for lazy folk – you must be prepared to go the extra mile. And trust me, when you do, it feels good, especially when you get recognition for it!

So, to wrap up, we had an excellent evening! I asked how they managed to pull it off. It turned out that they had discussed it after their practical training. Harry organised with Naureen to get me to Timbuktu. In the meanwhile, they had composed a song, bought flowers, and a card in which they wrote special messages... Apparently I was 'very easy to work with'!

A big thank you to ALL the guys on the April TEFL course. You rocked my socks off and I will never (ever) forget the lengths to which you went to make me feel appreciated.

A very surprised and happy Shannon with
flowers and card from her April TEFL group.

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #7:The Home Stretch by Shannon Norman

2016-04-04T11:44:00.000+02:00

The Home Stretch...by Shannon Norman

While all eleven TEFLers were a lot wiser after completing the theory training, a fair amount of growth still needed to take place. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the beauty of practical training at The Knowledge Workshop: GROWTH!

Practical training is challenging – hard work is required – but it is also extremely rewarding. Prospective teachers have the opportunity to apply their theoretical knowledge in an actual classroom and learn, very quickly, what it’s like to be an English teacher. I’ve mentored many teachers as the resident EFL Teacher at TKW, so this process wasn’t unfamiliar at all. Now, as TEFL facilitator, I was able to see more of the progress, and I did. This is what made my observation and experience of practical training that much more special. I cannot think of any other situation where you’re able to learn the amount that you do in such a short space of time.

It all came together

The first group of TEFLers arrived at TKW looking rested and some of them slightly nervous. On their first day, TEFLers are eased into the process; they have a full day of observation starting with General English in the morning and English Conversation class in the afternoon. In their feedback session at the end of the day, it was evident that they had had a good day. However, there was something specific that I wanted to hear and I’m happy that I did. “It all makes sense now,” is what was said. BOOM! It was as if someone had poured honey into my ears. They were absolutely right – this is exactly what’s supposed to happen. As the abstract, theoretical notions started piecing together, a bigger picture began to emerge – and it all made sense! Imagine that! Anyway, the now more informed TEFLers began teaching the very next day. I could actually see the thought bubbles above their heads as I briefed them. Their creativity was well and truly ignited; the ideas were flowing. It was fantastic! And so the week progressed…

Each day, our resident teachers, Helen and Naureen, would relinquish more and more responsibility for their lessons to the trainees, until they were pretty much sitting back altogether on the Friday. It was at this point that the TEFLers would take full control of the lesson, but under the guidance of myself and the other resident teachers. This ensures someone is always on hand to manage the damage, and I believe this is what eased their minds. Nevertheless, they had most of the responsibility now on their shoulders and it was brilliant to see how my first group of TEFLers managed to do this like champions. You see, there’s something we tell the trainees all the time: ‘Trust the process – the process is what will get you there’. It was clear that this group of trainees had taken this advice on board. They started at the bottom, but slowly, not without effort, made it to the top.

Shannon and some of her January TEFLers putting on their 'teacher' faces for their practical.

…And that’s a wrap

Right, so as we all know, what goes up, must come down! J By the end of the week, everyone was quite happy to be able to say, “We did it, and we’re done!” Even though they were glad that practical training was over, they were equally just as sad. When you set foot into The Knowledge Workshop, you instantly become part of the community, and with practical training now over, they were saying goodbye to family.

All in all, it was week to remember. There were tons of laughs and many strong bonds were formed. Most importantly, our trainees were now ready for the world. I get excited at the thought of these newly qualified teachers in a classroom in some other part of the world planting their first seeds - actually teaching foreigners how to speak English!

The second group of trainees was soon to start at this point and I was happy for this process to unfold all over again. Come at me TEFLers! I’m ready for you! J

TEFLers, teachers and students at the end of January practical week 1.

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #6: Buckle up! It’s going to be a ride by Shannon Norman

2016-02-10T16:57:00.002+02:00

Buckle up! It’s going to be a ride...by Shannon Norman

“Good things come to those who wait.” I completely believe this adage…

I was meant to go abroad a while ago, but there was some sort of magnetic pull keeping me here. I say that with a smile on my face, though. Had I not listened to my gut, I would not be getting the experience I’m getting right now. So, as you may or may not know, I’ve recently become the new TEFL facilitator at The Knowledge Workshop. As I sit back in my (newly acquired) black office chair and think back to the 11^th of January 2016, I can finally say “120 hours of teacher-training done and dusted.” I’ve spent weeks and days preparing for this eventuality and I’VE DONE IT. The mountains I thought I would need to climb seem more like molehills now, and the deep waters I thought I had to swim, seem more like fun puddles of water that you just want to splash around in.
Knowing that I successfully trained 11 teachers, on my own, feels like quite an accomplishment. You know that feeling when you take that new red pen of yours and scratch out that ‘thing’ on your To-Do List? That’s the feeling I have now, that feeling of self-satisfaction, except this feeling is a gazillion times better.

I might have moved too quickly here, so let me explain all of this in a bit more detail. The TEFL course at TKW is honestly one of the best courses that anyone could ever experience. I say this having done the course, having taught it and most importantly, I say this having witnessed countless teachers express their feelings towards it. There is this opinion that if you do the TEFL course at TKW you are going to learn how to teach English to foreigners and that’s it. Of course, learning to teach English is the main objective here, but this course equips you with far more than just the skills needed to teach English. When you do this course, you walk away with skills that you can use in any facet of life. I’ve had TEFLers come up to me and say that they are who they are now because of this course. Those that were shy, now dance to Justin Bieber in a game of Musical Chairs. Those who were not open to new ideas are now able to present dilemmas to groups of foreign students that ultimately get them to question their own thinking. And those who had their creativity stripped from them at some point in their lives are now able to create games and other resources that have students talking about it for days after. This course propels you out of your comfort zone and takes you on a journey both figuratively and literally.

The 11^th of January 2016 was the first day of my new job. I arrived at TKW about six hours early. The way I picture a machine operating on full-power is what was happening to my mind - and my mouth. I couldn’t shut up. I feel sorry for my colleagues who had to listen to me babble. But I needed to get rid of the butterflies in my stomach somehow. I didn’t completely talk their ears off though. For the remaining four hours or so, I did a dry-run. I basically lectured a class full of…well… no one. It was my way of getting it right – and so I did this almost every day for the next two weeks. Yep, I put myself into an empty classroom and spoke to no one – practicing everything I needed to say that evening. You see, you’re not the only crazy person out there.

So, what happens on the theory component of the course? Here, prospective teachers learn how to put together a four-skills lesson plan. Week one deals with what happens in the classroom and the choices that need to be made while teaching, and week two deals with the major methodologies that teachers can make use of in an EFL classroom. We also look to the four linguistic skills and the activities used to allow students to practice with these skills. There are two major lectures on the course which I had to present to the TEFLers. Usually I am quite hard on myself and ruthlessly critique myself, but thinking back to those nights, I really feel that I did a great job. For those who know me, this is not something that I do very often. I don’t really give myself much praise. So please can we have a moment of silence while I pat myself on the back. BTW, don’t let what I’ve just said fool you into thinking that we don’t have fun on the theory component of the course. Believe me; FUN is integral to everyone’s sanity!

It’s been a ride, for sure. I’ve been teaching in an EFL classroom for a year, so delivering the course wasn’t something abstract or alien. But a lot of work was still required to get myself ready and prepared regardless. I wanted to make sure that I delivered the best TEFL course imaginable. I guess that’s just part of being a teacher. All in all, I’ve learnt more than I can write in this blog post. I know that the next few courses will enable me to continue learning. I cannot wait to train a few more teachers. I hope you are all ready for me because I am ready for you! (Insert evil laugh).

But let me draw the line here for now. I’ll be back soon to share some details about what went down during the practical training weeks as a TEFL facilitator. Until next time!

January 2016 TEFL Graduates with Shannon

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #5: It's been a while by Shannon Norman

2015-12-10T16:49:00.001+02:00

It’s been a while…by Shannon Norman

Excuse me while I apologise for this delayed blog post. It’s outrageous, I know. But as with most things, there is one simple reason – “life”.

We all get carried away sometimes, right? It’s not always a bad thing though. So what’s been keeping me busy? Besides teaching General English, preparing students for IELTS and having fun in one-to-one classes, I’ve been training. You know, working out my legs and arms, firming my butt and getting summer-ready.

Pfft, if only I wasn’t such a bad liar. What I actually mean by “training” is something completely different. I guess I should explain for the sake of the truth.

About two months ago, the owner of the school and my mentor, Marian, approached me with a rather big, daunting and thought-provoking question:

“Will you take over the TEFL course from me?”

Now as you can imagine the situation was quite intense. Picture me and Marian sitting comfortably on Oprah’s soft sofas. The cameras are rolling; the bright lights are shining on us as we sit in the middle of the stage. Oprah is holding my hand for support and whispers under her breath, “You can do this, Shannon...” The audience, on the other hand, is sitting on the edge of their seat. There’s a lady who is bouncing her leg up and down as if there was some sort of electrical impulse moving through her body – the wait is killing her. What will I say? A man in the audience gets up. The lights now glaring in his face, making him look all heroic and what not.“Answer us, Shannon! What are you going to say? This experience could change things forever,” he shouts. Oprah calms him down and looks at me and smiles…

So what did I say? I said I would think about it because it was quite an important decision to make. Marian gave me the thumbs up and off I went. The problem I have (and I know a few people who might be nodding their heads furiously right now) is that I struggle to make decisions. Don’t ask me what chocolate I want, and please, don’t ask me to order from a menu when there are a billion things to choose from. Also, don’t ask me, “What do you want to do tonight?” because I DON’T KNOW.

Anyway after copious amounts of brain farts I realised that this was not even something I needed to think about; I should just say ‘yes’ and grab the bull by its horns. Why would I not want to ride this beast of opportunity? Why would I let someone else take it from me?

Then it was show time! Marian needed an answer. My heart was racing. Not because I was scared, but because I was excited.

I said, “Yes!”

Marian handing over TEFL student Julita to Shannon (It's official now!)

And with that, the red curtains close. Picture a man trying to find the opening of the curtains. He eventually makes his way through. He feels quite stupid for not realising where the two curtains meet. He stands to the left of the stage and says, “That’s all we have for tonight, folks. If you want to find out more about Shannon’s experiences then keep your eyes peeled for the next show.”

There you have it, straight from the horse’s mouth. Catch my next blog where I will share some valuable lessons learnt in and out of the TEFL classroom. Who knows, maybe Oprah lets me down and I find myself talking to Dr Phil next time.

Shannon is looking forward to some real fans.

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #13: This is the End, Beautiful Friend by Georgina Selander

2015-09-25T11:24:00.000+02:00

This is the End, Beautiful Friend by Georgina Selander

The time has come to wrap up my ‘Eat, Play, Teach’ series – and I figured the best way to do so was to round up some of the highs and lows of my time so far. I’ll also offer some friendly advice for future teachers and travellers to South Korea.

Driving in Cars with Koreans

I’ve heard of the stereotype, ‘Asians are the worst drivers’ – and, well, – at the risk of being insufferably politically incorrect – it’s not far off the mark.

On Thursdays one of my co-teachers gives me a ride to school. I’m lucky to have good relationships with all of my co-teachers. Unfortunately, the one in question frequently crosses the professional boundary. In the past, I’ve been asked, “whether I’m dating?”; “if I’d like to date [him]?” and even if I’d like to “join for a trip to his hometown.” All this with a wedding ring and a daughter sitting in the back seat. Haaaaaard pass.

In addition to the pervert-y asides, this particular teacher is a noisy eater. And so for the 25-minute journey I cringe to the open-mouth chomping of his breakfast. Apples. It’s always apples.

One morning, after buckling myself in and bracing against the aural buffet to my left (Koreans drive on the right side of the road) things escalated from tepid to, well, traumatic. Driving through the winding country roads, my co-teacher decided that a blind rise was an ideal time to overtake a sluggish delivery vehicle. As we rounded the corner, not only was a car fast approaching in the oncoming lane, but the van we were overtaking started swaying dangerously into us – ultimately clipping my teacher’s side mirror. He swore loudly and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. I couldn’t help gasping, “oh god!”

Dangerous encounters of the foreign kind.

Besides the obvious joys of riding with a native driver, there are also the pedestrian perks. Forget what you learnt in your driving test. Here, drivers seem to have the right of way; zebra crossings and ‘the little green man’ are suggestions at most.

Eat Your Kimchi (and your rice).

A typical school lunch

Forget Woolies salads. Forget avocados and unprocessed cheese. Forget a decent bottle of wine for 40 bucks. Vok it, just forget it all. You’ll be eating rice with every meal.

Adjusting to Korean food is the only thing that has made me faintly homesick here. It’s not that Korean food isn’t tasty – it’s just that it’s likely going to be completely foreign to anything you’ve tasted before. And when food is memory, culture, familiarity and comfort – it can be a teething problem.

Kimchi is a Korean staple, and is served at every meal. Although the fermented taste takes some adjustment, the dish has a variety of health benefits such as warding off diabetes, cancer and strengthening your immune system. Plus, it may be considered impolite not to try it – at least in the beginning.

My advice? Take one piece. Even if you don’t eat it. That way you won’t get asked, “You don’t like kimchi?” Another tactic is saying “It’s too spicy”. Even if you think otherwise, it’s a good excuse.

Cooking Shabu Shabu

But hell, be open-minded about it. It’s the only way to figure out the dishes you actually like. Korea has some really soul-warming food – and often dishes are prepared with the health benefits in mind. Take 해장국 (pronounced hey jang guk) for example, a formidable hangover chaser, made from pork or beef bones boiled for several hours in a delicious stock flavoured with ginger and garlic. My other recommendations would be trying out some of the tasty 찌개 (stews – pronounced jigae) or 샤브샤브 (thinly slice meat / seafood and vegetables cooked at your table in a yummy broth – which is later used to cook noodles and then rice – pronounced shabu shabu). Lastly, Korean-style barbeque, called samgyeopsal (삼겹살) where you fill lettuce leaf wraps with grilled pork belly and other side dishes.

As a final note, avoid insulting Korean food – however strange it may seem to you. That’s offensive in any culture.

Next on my list of bizarre foods – live octopus! Nom nom nom. Cough.

Be Courteous – Especially to Your Elders

Korean culture is hierarchical. The older you are the more respect you are (or at least, should be) granted.

The way you address an older person differs to a younger one. Generally this means adding a ‘yo’ when you’re speaking to your senior – but also extends to general etiquette such as bowing (lower shows more respect) or the way you share a meal or a drink.

I recommend familiarizing yourself (or ideally, asking a Korean native) about these subtleties to avoid any embarrassment.

Make Friends. Even if They “Aren’t Your Type”.

When I arrived in Korea, I was fortunate enough to have a close friend living in a neighbouring city. This gave me easy access not only to social invitations, but also a guide through the proverbial dark waters on arrival. Because of this, I neglected to make strong bonds with people in my own city. This left me lonely on weeknights and on the weekends when I was home.

Making friends

I acknowledge that I’m a bit of a ‘people snob’. Possibly even a sapiosexual – someone attracted to intelligence over looks. (If you openly advertise that you “aren’t a reader” goodyeeeeeeee).

That being said, not every person you meet has to be intellectually / emotionally stimulating. There are times when just a bit of company will do.

Lower your expections

I expected to drop 10 kilos on a diet of soup and kimchi.

I gained weight.

I expected to forgo liquor for spiritual pursuits.

Soju. Enough said.

I expected a high(er) level of English proficiency.

Hearing ‘hello’ is an achievement.

You might be surprised, as I was, at how low the level of English is in Korean schools. Unfortunately the school system privileges reading, writing and grammar over listening, speaking and conversationalskills.

Classroom shenanigans

It’s been a constant battle – even seven months in – just to get some students to respond to “how are you?” So don’t be frustrated or disheartened if things aren’t up to standard. Be patient and find other avenues to stimulate yourself if you find your job wanting.

Be open-minded

Koreans may talk, eat, drink, dance – do everything – in a way that’s unusual to you. That doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It’s just cultural difference.

You may be shocked at Korean men spitting in the streets, or burping after meals. They might be just as shocked if you blow your nose loudly in public or wear shirts that show your collarbone.

My students’ behaviour also came as a struggle; dealing with 25 – 30 teenage students, some of whom are sleeping, others who are doing their make-up, wasn’t something that I was accustomed to.

So, be open-minded. And most of all, be patient – with yourself and others.

This is the last blog of the ‘Eat, Play, Teach’ series. I’ll be starting up a new site in the near future – so keep an eye out if you enjoyed these entries!

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #12: Means to an end by Georgina Selander

2015-09-01T09:58:00.001+02:00

Means to an end by Georgina Selander

“Please face the front.” I breathe out violently, trying my damndest not to lose my cool.

“I don’t want to,” she replies venomously in Korean.

The remark is made doubly rude by the fact that she’s omitted the ‘yo' at the end of the word (an honorific signalling respect). What’s more, I’ve foregone the textbook in lieu of a game – one that everyone else seems to be enjoying – so what’s with the attitude?

She turns around again.

I wonder why my co-teacher hasn’t come to my defence.

It’s a fundamental lie that teachers “don’t have favourites”. It goes without saying that any student who is eager to learn and who participates enthusiastically in class is a pleasure to teach. This has nothing to do with grades or proficiency. Yes, a good mark gives us the pleasure of knowing we’ve done our part adequately. But a committed low-level student certainly outweighs a competent, yet insolent, one.

Summer camp - Advertisement design workshop

An amazing university lecturer once told me, “never let them see you sweat”. It’s an invaluable lesson, and one I constantly need to remind myself of. While it might be necessary to call a student out on bad behaviour, the ‘how’ is everything. Flying into a rage or screaming at the top of your lungs will only expose your vulnerabilities to your students – one they can use to their advantage.

And so I quietly return to front of the class – making a concerted effort not to let the histrionics of one student spoil the class for the rest.

Six months into my Korean adventure, my patience continues to be tested. But at the same time, it’s been an incredible study in not taking things personally.

Moody teenagers come hand-in-hand with teaching middle school-ers – and often times they’re just trying to ‘act cool’ in front of their friends.

But let me not get too negative here. There are moments – as rare as they might be – that make up for any hardships you might face.

Summer camp

A few weeks ago I held a Summer Camp. Every year, during their vacation, students sign up for various extra-curricular classes.

For my English camp, I’d planned what I’d hoped would be an exciting two-week itinerary – full of learning games, competitions and even cooking activities.

On the fifth day of the camp, students were given the chance to make ‘mug cakes’ – a simple microwave recipe that any hopeless baker could perfect (or so I thought).

As an instinctual – rather than methodical – baker, I improvised on the recipe where I saw fit – encouraging students to add a little extra flour or milk where the consistency seemed wrong.

What came out of the microwave ten minutes later was, frankly, poef. The cakes were rubbery and dense. Mine even had a green tint.

Summer camp - making ice cream in a bag! Yum!

As they dipped their spoons into the soggy mess, I felt disappointed at the result. They had been looking forward to this all week and the result was everything short of spectacular.

But at the end of the lesson, as the students shuffled out the classroom, one girl lingered behind. As she packed up her stationery, I approached and asked, “did you enjoy your cake?”

“Umm not so good,” she smiled and shrugged. “But fun!”

This was all I needed to hear. The proof was in the pudding after all; the means outdid the end.

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #4: A different sort of juggling by Shannon Norman

2015-08-17T15:26:00.000+02:00

A different sort of juggling… by Shannon Norman

Have you ever seen someone juggle six tennis balls? It’s quite grand, yeah? The more you stare, the more the juggler impresses you. Not long after watching him (or her) handle six balls – tennis balls of course – it’s likely that you’ll want to try it too. Has this ever been true for you? I can tell you one thing; it has definitely been true for me. When I saw how marvelous-looking it was to juggle that many objects with only two hands I immediately wanted to give it a go.

Well, let’s just say I spent more time crawling on the floor looking for the damn things than actually juggling them! I thought juggling two balls would be a breeze. It turns out that juggling two balls is as difficult as juggling six. It became quite clear to me that day that juggling is not for me.

So, as you can imagine, my life carried on as normal. What’s a normal life? I guess it’s one where juggling balls isn’t a requirement…until I walked through the doors of The Knowledge Workshop. Okay wait, let me rephrase and leave the ‘balls’ behind this time. When I walked through the doors of The Knowledge Workshop, I was blissfully unaware of the juggling journey I was about to embark on which has been dubbed ‘Shannon’s Gigantic Juggling Journey’. And remember folks, from here on out I’ll be referring to a different sort of juggling.

Let me explain: Many women believe that they are great at multi-tasking. Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s not that I don’t believe them (I’m sure many women out there are fantastic at this), it’s just that I cannot lie to myself, and the rest of the world. I struggle with multi-tasking. It has never really been one of my strongest skills. It’s a fact; it’s a thing you can’t deny, like the fact that I will love you till I die.

Okay, so if you haven’t guessed it already, I’ve just quoted Katie Melua. You see, even thinking and writing is a challenge for me – I get so distracted by my overly active mind that all I want to do is eat cake and dance in the rain. Anyway, despite my ADHD and my battle with multi-tasking I have become better at it; much better, to be honest. How? I was thrown in the deep end…

Shannon with EFL Students

My journey started with General English. All I was required to do was teach for three hours a day. I ended at 12:30 and by 13:30 I was at home, preparing for my next lesson. Ending as early as I did was a true blessing.

As we all know, nothing great comes easily. If I wanted to reap the benefits and the experience of being a teacher, I needed to accept a few other tasks, literally. So, I was asked to mentor the TEFL trainees doing their practical part of the course. Every six weeks, for a two-week period, I work until 17:00, facilitating the General English classes and conversation classes led by the TEFLers. Besides the after-hour mentoring, I provide the trainees with feedback after their lessons and I assist Marian with their brief for the next day. It’s always such a pleasure observing these classes because I get to witness new ideas unfolding and whether they know it or not, I learn just as much as they do. Also, because I am at school until 17:00, my preparation for the next day starts later. I therefore, have to make sure that I juggle my time and responsibilities wisely.

Then, TOEFL crept in. TOEFL is an American-based English proficiency test, which foreign students who want to study at an English University, need to take. When one of my students completed her General English course, it was time for me to start preparing her for this dreaded test. Before I knew it, we were sitting in a three-hour class preparing for her TOEFL test. Usually, the minimum amount of hours that you should set aside for this sort of preparation is 60 hours. My student wanted to complete her preparation in 30 hours, so you can imagine the pressure we were under. I had to do all of this while teaching General English and facilitating the TEFLERS when need be. It was rough, but the only thing I could do was keep my eye on the prize.

That’s it? Of course not, who are we kidding?

IELTS (which is British-based English proficiency test) was added to my list of ‘things to do’. TKW received a new student who wanted to do the IELTS test as she wanted to study at UCT. My student signed up for 20 hours. So I taught her four hours a week for a period of five weeks. Just to back-track a little; preparing your students for these sorts of tests isn’t as easy as following a guide and that’s that. As the teacher, you actually have to understand each part of the test and do everything you can to make sure that you teach all the essential skills to the best of your ability. What I’m saying is that doing this requires a lot of hard work, homework, and of course (wait for it) more juggling. I say this because more work was added to my list. If I’m starting to sound ridiculous, then you’ve hit the nail on the head.

Part of my responsibility at the school is to teach one-to-one English Improvement classes as well as one-to-one Conversation Classes while doing everything else. For these classes, the students’ needs are very specific and so each lesson is tailored to meet certain expectations. Again, time and effort is required from my side, so naturally, I become a clown and begin my juggling show. :)

It was tough in the beginning and still is. Juggle, juggle, juggle all day long. However, it’s more rewarding than anything else on this planet. My schedule has calmed down just a little bit. But trust me, it’s going to pick up again and I’m going to look like an ADHD circus monkey juggling my work like a teacher is supposed to.

I think it’s quite clear now that teaching does things to you – it can even make you good at multi-tasking when you were once shit. :-)

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #11: Stuck in the mud by Georgina Selander

2015-08-05T16:15:00.002+02:00

Stuck in the mud by Georgina Selander

She takes a handful of the gloppy muck and throws it. Splat. Right in the centre of my t-shirt.

My feet squelch down calf-deep as I try to run towards her. I lunge, tackling her around the waist and wrestle her to the ground. Mud oozes between my toes, fills my ears. It sucks and belches loudly as I sink my hand into its depths.

A camera man kneels in front of us. He films as we wrestle and roll, giggling as we get dirtier.

“I think I’ve just got bitten by a crab?! Let’s get out!”

The Mud Festival

My group of friends and I have travelled to the annual Boryeong Mud Festival. It’s a week-long excuse to drink way too much soju, party on the beach, meet reckless foreigners and, of course, get covered in mud.

One of our friends had organised for us to join a tour group. So, on Saturday morning we caught a bus to Boryeong and met up with a group of rowdy, mostly-American expats and a Korean guide.

Not yet 10 o’clock and already the group were passing around shots, yelling and belting out classic rock covers. Trying to avoid throwing shade in their direction, I scrolled through my Facebook feed.

A sweaty arm draped over my seat. “Why you so boooring? Get off your phooone!” a young first-time-drinker shouted in my ear. I smiled and cussed him out in Afrikaans.

First stop was a local mudflat where loud music pumped from large speakers.

The mudflap

After ignoring the refs encouraging everybody to join the mud race (nooo thanks) we scampered over the rocks and into the mud. Although at first tentative, we were soon covered head-to-toe in the cool grey slop.

Afterwards we hit the showers, and then sat on the rocks drinking cold beer.

Once everyone was clean, we piled back into the bus and headed to the parade. On arrival we were handed water guns, and took pleasure in taking sneaky squirts at the rest of the group and some of the disapproving locals.

I spotted a douchey guy from a previous trip (“uggghh I only wipe my bum with wet wipes”) and chased him down with my gun.

We camped on the grass and watched as groups of colourful singers, dancers and musicians took turns making grand entrances onto the stage. A group of feathered and bejewelled showgirl dancers even got the crowd romping with a cheesy rendition of Psy’s Gangnam Style.

An African contingent appeared in the form of five or six Congolese and Ivory Coast expats. Unfortunately their soulful drumming was drowned out by the “Oppa Gangnam Style!”

As the afternoon reached its peak, we loaded onto the bus once more and headed to our accommodation. It was time to de-mud, (after four of us had showered, the bathroom was nothing short of a crime scene) make ourselves over and head to the street scene.

Hungry after the day’s activities, we found a rooftop restaurant serving western-style food. Toasting the day’s adventures, we charged our shot glasses with soju. The smell of delicious pork belly (samgyeopsal) wafted over from the table of locals opposite us. We invited them to share in our soju drinking - they offered us crispy, pork-filled lettuce wraps.

As it started to drizzle, our barely-eaten plate of fried chicken soon became soggy. This was no deterrent to our fun - and we managed to pass some of it off to some tipsy, bikini-clad tourists. We even managed to get a naive young American to eat a lemon wedge, skin-and-all, under the pretence that it was a “special Korean lime that can help…ahem…improve your manhood”.

Next stop was a bar across the street. Bartenders served small buckets of suspect cocktails and we danced, chatted up Koreans and took tequilas late into the night. When the music died down and some of our crew started to fade, it was time to go home.

We rose late next morning, and headed to Daecheon beach. After getting sufficiently hot and sweaty, we dunked our bodies into the cool sea, which was gloriously refreshing, and laughed as countless vendors passed yelling “chiccccken!”.

A man floated past us on a rubber ring. As he spun over a small wave we saw he was playing on his phone. On a tube. In the sea. #classickorea.

Later that afternoon we returned home - sunburnt, sated and thoroughly spent.

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #10: Getting wet by Georgina Selander

2015-07-22T11:40:00.000+02:00

Getting Wet by Georgina Selander

We all know that movie scene. It goes something like this:

a) A shaggy-haired teenager hops over the neighbour’s fence to visit his girlfriend and….

b) A dumb robber (think Home Alone) attempts a stealthy break-in and….

…out dashes a snapping yap-dog – breaking the silence and incriminating the intruder.

---

Last Sunday, after spending most of the day in bed, I decided it was time to venture outside. It so happens that the highlight of social entertainment in my town boils down to a few cramped bars and a handful of supermarkets. Being a Sunday, my boozing options were limited – so shopping it was!

So off I went, trekking up the hill, over the intersection, past the elementary school and towards the local GS25 supermarket.

Being the highpoint of the day’s enjoyment, I wanted to take my time – spend a leisurely hour or so roaming the aisles, consulting ramyeon packets, trying to decipher the Korean wording on packages, or pretending to be planning a recipe for a well-to-do husband waiting at home.

No such luck. Korean store attendants have a habit of following you around – a most overly helpful habit. (Beauty stores are a nightmare when you just want to try on all the free samples and a teller follows your every move. In these cases, I end up feeling obliged to buy something useless and cheap that I don’t really want – like a tacky lip icekey chain.).

Fish counter

The first interesting sight – a repeat source of amusement in these instances – was the fish counter. If you can get over the smell and the eyeballs, there’s always an interesting creature or two. A common sight is live octopus (eating squirmy raw octopus is in fact a Korean delicacy). There are usually also some phallic-looking sea cucumbers or an aquarium of crabs.

On this particular trip I discovered a group of squids, bobbing up and down in the cold water. I watched them for ages, until my front-row seat was taken over by an equally interested 4-year old.

Squid

Next stop: the meat counter. I’ve recently located chicken breasts in Korean supermarkets – a versatile ingredient to have in the fridge (and a regular meal back home). Just moments after locating said chicken, a handsome Korean man strolls over.

“Can I help you? What are you looking to buy?”

Considering there are only whole chickens, breasts and beef strips on the shelf, this conversation is really unnecessary.

“Umm I just want to make something for dinner…Maybe bulgogi?” I reply.

I spy another glance. He really is very handsome. Why of all possible days, was today the day I decided to venture out sans make-up and sans bra. I suck my stomach in a little.

“For how many?” he enquires.

“Two,” I respond.

What a joke. It’s literally just me. Eating for two. Again.

“This should be enough then,” he says, lifting up a packet of beef strips.

I had no intention of buying this. I lower it into my basket with a cheesy grin. I linger a second longer.

“Are you American,” he asks? (This is such a common question here you’d think white people only lived in the big ol' US of A).

“No, I’m from South Africa,” I reply.

“Oh okay! I was in Chicago last year!”

Huh?

“Umm cool…”

He looks at me like I should mention something about the place– like my favourite Chicago deep-dish pizza restaurant (poef). All I can think of is a Sopranos accent. And I’m pretty sure that’s not even right. I take it as my cue to leave, wondering if I should circle aisle 7 until I can safely put the meat back.

Anyway, as most shopping trips go – where I plan to buy just one or two ingredients to complement my household supplies – I come back with 400 000 won worth of goodies. Including the meat I didn’t want.

Laden with two overflowing shopping bags, I decide to explore the other side of town and take a detour home.

15 minutes in, I realise I’m walking through a residential area and the usual landmarks are nowhere in sight.

Realising I should double back and head towards more familiar surroundings, I take a narrow lane in the direction of the supermarket.

Cursing the ghastly humidity, I carry on. It starts to rain. Soon I am drenched in both rain and sweat.

As I round the corner, a prophetic sign rushes towards me in the form of two stricken teenage boys. They duck into an alley. I quickly see why they are running – a golden-haired yap-dog is speeding towards me, teeth gnashing and nails clipping the tarmac.

I turn on my heels and run. My two shopping bags bob awkwardly at my sides.

When the sound of the tiny yapper dies away, I drop my bags of sodden groceries and laugh. Who cares if I get wet?

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #3: “I am going to make things simple for my teacher,” said no one, ever. by Shannon Norman

2015-07-01T14:50:00.000+02:00

“I am going to make things simple for my teacher,” said no one, ever. - by Shannon Norman

There is no need for me to point out the obvious. We all know that everyone is different. But I AM going to point out the obvious – EVERYONE is different!

Since working at The Knowledge Workshop, I’ve had to juggle many different student personalities. I’ve also come to realise that students won’t necessarily always agree with the way the teacher does things. Yes, I said it. Sometimes, your students want to be the teacher because they have their own idea as to how English should be taught and this mindset is like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Is there a specific way you should handle this sort of situation? I don’t know if there is ONE way, but I think, as a teacher, you’ve got to go with your gut, a lot of the time.

What happened, you may be thinking. I’ll tell you.

Learning is not limited to the classroom. If it was, then I’d be quite disappointed. So, every now and again (typically on a Friday), I absolutely love to remove my students from the classroom and plonk them in a situation they can’t experience in class. But this is where shit hit the fan – luckily not literally.

I planned to take my students on an “Obs walkabout” seeing as our theme for the week was “experiences”. After hearing my plan, one of my students said that he thought the class would benefit more from conversations in class as opposed to ones out on the streets. Basically, he just hated on my outing idea and hinted at it being rubbish. I could feel myself getting defensive and that’s when that gut feeling I was telling you about kicked in. I can’t describe it, but I knew what to say…

Students on the Obs walk-about

“There is nothing more valuable, in my eyes, than placing you guys in an authentic English situation, where you will not only speak to your classmates and hear my accent, but you’ll speak to other people with different accents. Yes, this can happen on your way home, or while you’re shopping, but at least we can experience it together and I can guide you and you can ask me questions.”

Thankfully, one of my other students had my back and tried convincing that particular student, and another student (bloody pressure) that it was going to be great.

Anyway, after a successful outing, the students in doubt walked away with a smile on their faces and realised how beneficial it was to expose themselves to the beautiful, but annoying language we all call, English.

But, the dark days didn’t end there. Another little something happened…. I started to notice just how distracting devices were becoming in the classroom. There were two students who were very quick to rely on their device for translation. I let it slide once or twice in the beginning, but I quickly realised that this was a no-go. I then spoke to Marian and we agreed on a rule: no devices in the classroom. So, the next day I politely informed the class of the new rule. I explained to them that using a device every other second was only going to destroy their confidence and it would ruin their strategic ability in the language. I also told them that they were not always going to have this “magic wand” with them and that they should rather concentrate on developing their competency from the get-go.

Let’s put it this way, I wasn’t their best person, especially when I said that they were only to use a paper-based dictionary. “It’s the 21^st century,” so I was told. Nevertheless, I stuck to my decision and I made it explicit that they were more than welcome to use their “best friends” outside of the classroom, but while they were in my classroom, this rule was going to stay. Tough love, right?

Shannon in the classroom

Would you believe it, a few weeks later, I caught one of my students using his phone in the middle of the lesson. I proceeded to ask what he was doing, and before I knew it a metaphorical cloud of smoke appeared in front of me – something had exploded. And that, my friends, was my student. He got so mad, an army tank might as well have been in the classroom, destroying everything in its path. That old saying, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out the kitchen,” needed to be applied. After my student and I exchanged some words, I casually left the classroom and had a slight meltdown. Don’t worry, if this happens to you it’s not a sign of weakness – everything but. However, this battle was a long time coming. I gathered my thoughts while in the comfort of my mentor and then stepped back inside as if nothing was wrong. This was difficult…this was so difficult! But it needed to be done. Immediately my student’s attitude changed. I then realised that stepping out the classroom was the best thing I could possibly have done. I had time to think, he had time to think and most of all, he realised that how he had spoken to me was no way to speak to a teacher; or ANYONE for that matter.

Despite these turn of events, our teacher-student relationship improved to the point where we were able to laugh about the “no device rule”. We developed a really good bond and that’s what teaching is all about I guess – learning through discovery. Building rapport with your students can come in many different forms and I’ve come to realise that the hard way. Therefore, my advice to you: pick a fight with your students, it’s what you need.

(I’m joking. Don’t do this, but if it happens – it’ll be for the best).

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #9: The Butterfly effect by Georgina Selander

2015-06-19T16:09:00.000+02:00

The Butterfly Effect - by Georgina Selander

When I left for South Korea, I was under the mistaken impression that I would naturally lose weight. The extra kilos that I’d gained during my varsity years – and sustained thereafter – would miraculously drop off, and I’d return to my boep-less existence. I pictured plates piled high with kimchi, bland broths and loads of steamed greens. I woke sweaty from dreams where I’d transformed from crusty pupa to velvety butterfly.

But let’s get one thing straight – the sum-total of my ‘steamed’ experience has been from watching Korean girly-boys with earrings and pink hair dance to K-pop music. Sigh. (Suga if you’re reading this, I’m single. Super single).

And when it comes to kimchi, most school days 3-4 mouthfuls is all I can stomach (depending on who’s serving it, kimchi swings between delicious and off-the-charts revolting).

So, in an effort to rectify this situation, I joined the local gym.

School lunch: fried rice, soup, kimchi, tomatoes, almond cake and a 'rice juice'.

The gym in my area is less than spectacular. There are three rickety treadmills and a smattering of muscle-toning machines that I’m definitely not going to use.

It’s mostly frequented by two types of Koreans:

a) Skinny Korean girls with swishy ponytails. Why are you here if you’re skinny? You’re done.
b) Older men doing bendy floor work. I can’t look. It’s just so…anatomical.

But on the upside, there is a table of sweat towels, t-shirts and shorts at the disposal of the members. It’s nothing more than a pleasure to scrounge the pile for a large tee and ponder, “I wonder who sweated in this last?” But the draw card that really sealed the sign-up-deal: they offer yoga classes on Monday, Tuesday and Thursdays. This, I can do. A sequence of heaving breathing disguised as exercise? Definitely my kind of workout.

But boy oh effing boy was I wrong. In fact, the tri-weekly ‘yogarobics’ is two sit-ups short of torture. Okay so I’m obviously exaggerating. But still, if you were there you’d also be sweating out your body weight. The class is full of ajummas. I am the only foreigner. I’m the only one under 50. The lady leading the class has a svelte little body. I can see her thong through her spangly tights. She doesn’t speak any English.

Each class begins innocently enough: some dancing progresses into bicep curls, (haha bicep curls! I feel smart for saying that but I have absolutely no idea what it means) into squatting, then situps…

But guaranteed there’s a point that it gets weird.

Georgina Selander

On my first trip (where I was still expecting yoga), the instructor produced a bag of golf balls mid-way. Cupping the balls in the palm of our hand, we rubbed them vigorously across our backs, necks, shoulders and face. Unable to understand the language, I had no idea why we were doing this.

On my second trip, we were given teethed Pilates balls and had to contort ourselves around them. A most painful experience. And when I asked for the smooth ball instead, the teacher looked at me and said, “massage ball?”. No. Definitely not a massage ball.

Halfway through each class, there’s that point when I think I’ve reached my limit. I start to get really angry. With the teacher? With myself and my own limitations? I don’t know. But I do know that by the end of the hour and a half, I’ve worked through some of it. Or at least the rice I ate for lunch.

So, maybe I’m not a butterfly. Yet. Maybe my transformation is taking its time. Maybe I can’t see it.

But I can feel it.

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #8: Coming up for air by Georgina Selander

2015-06-05T10:30:00.001+02:00

Coming up for air by Georgina Selander

At first I don’t notice the sound because I have my earphones in. But there’s a lull in the music and I realise that the thud thud yelp that follow aren’t meant to be backing up Kurt Cobain.

I turn in my swivel chair and, unexpectedly, there’s a student being beaten.

One of the teachers, armed with a wooden rod, is hitting the calves of a third-grade boy.

Another teacher is filming the scene and stifling a giggle. I cast the student a sympathetic glance and wait until, head bowed, he leaves the teacher’s room.

Then I turn to the teacher wielding the weapon and say, in my best attempt to be assertive, “I find that upsetting. Do you realise that this is illegal in my country?” “It’s illegal here too,” the teacher responds with a slight chuckle. Unimpressed by the remark I wait for some further explanation. “This student ran away from home and so his father requested that we beat him. It’s to teach him a lesson.”

I turn my grimace back to my desk. I’m not a parent – nor am I in any position to question the authority of a senior teacher; I am both younger and, shockingly, a woman.

It wasn’t until my baby cousin was born that I began to develop maternal feelings. I always swore that I’d remain unwed and childless – revenge against divorced parents who had me questioning whether love really existed.

But in Korea, more than ever, the maternal instinct grows stronger. My students are like my babies – and when I see them choking back tears from the stress of a 12-hour school day, I feel for them. And when one runs away from home because he’d rather play video games than do his homework, I tend to side with the student.

Cheonan streets at night

There are times like these when I question my role – and limits – as a teacher. In need of a break from these kinds of ruminations, I boarded an early-morning train to Cheonan last Saturday. (Cheonan is a neighbouring city and, as the second-largest in Chugnam province, promises the kinds of luxuries – MacDonalds, Emart, manicurists – that lowly Yesan does not).

I’d decided on the solo adventure a few days before – and in my excitement I made myself a colour-coded itinerary (I’m no ditzy Clueless character, but I find anticipation brings 60% of the enjoyment in most cases).

On arrival at Cheonan station, I heaved my heavy backpack and took the East exit. I needed to find a nearby place – the Landmark Tower. After walking up and down the main street several times, I realized, given my garb and pack, that I looked homeless. So I asked one of the safari shirt-donning attendants for help.

After some broken Korean and rudimentary sign language, I located the building and took the elevator up to the 9^th floor. After a moment’s hesitation, I found the room I was looking for: Thai Healing House. The heady smell of incense and dimmed lights set the scene: this massage was going to be legit.

And it was. For just 50000Won, I was rubbed, oiled, twisted and clicked for close on two hours. With a new lease on life, I left in search of a second-hand English bookshop I’d seen online. Conveniently it was just across the road and manned by two chatty, but friendly, Canadians who’d just sat down to lunch. Given my insatiable reading habits, the place was a gem, and I left with my pack significantly heavier.

Next stop: Shinsegae Department Store. The place where shopping dreams are made of. After an unsuccessful stint at H&M, I reasoned that the ultra-small sizes were only going to depress me, and so did what any reasonable girl would do: eat.

On the fourth floor, I stumbled upon a wine-serving Italian restaurant. What a treat! That first sip of Chardonnay was life-changing. And the steak and mushroom pasta that followed even more so.

An enormous Korean flag near the entrace of the Independence Hall

Skip a few hours and it was time for something cultural. So I took a taxi to the outskirts of town to visit the Independence Hall – an architectural marvel beautifully showcasing Korean culture from the country’s early origins, (Korean civilization is 5000 years old) to the torturous decades spent under Japanese imperialism, to the incredible advancement in the last 50 years (just a few decades ago, Korea was one of the world’s poorest countries.

Today, the country’s economy ranks number 10 in the world).

Alone and comforted by the fact that I’d didn’t have to make small talk, or worry about a two-day hangover, I roamed the halls for over three hours. And afterwards, I walked into the sunlight, and stood watching the tourists.

That evening, returning to my hotel room, I took a long and leisurely bath and reflected on just how lucky I am to be here. To be young and free and possessed by a heart yearning for adventure.

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #7: Darwin's guide to co-teaching by Georgina Selander

2015-05-20T14:23:00.000+02:00

Darwin’s Guide to Co-teaching by Georgina Selander

“Have you found a Korean boy yet?”

“Umm no,” I mutter.

“What about me?”

I laugh awkwardly.

“I’m serious!” he replies.

This isn’t the first time this particular co-teacher has taken to hitting on me. In fact, the colleague in question is such a repeat offender that the weekly drive to work gives me the sweats. Take last week, for example:

“Have you seen Scent of a Woman?”

“Umm, I can’t remember…”

“I prefer the scent of youth…”

Seriously? Get yourself some cheap Aviators and a ‘stache and you’re on your way to being a cradle-snatcher. Congratulations.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m all for a bit of friendly banter. But hell, the man in question is twice my age, married with children and clearly oblivious to the fact that his comments make me uncomfortable.

I wonder what his daughter must think, sitting in the back. Fortunately – considering her response to “how are you?” is “yes” – I’m fairly certain that she doesn’t grasp the gist of the conversation.

But this isn’t the only co-teaching incident to have set my teeth on edge. In the past three months, I’ve experienced a variety of blog-worthy teaching personalities:

The backseater

This teacher spends the lesson sitting at the back of the classroom, occasionally adding her disinterested two cents. She’s usually ten minutes late for the lesson and always the first to leave. The upside? You have more control over the lesson and students direct their attention to you. Downside? You’d also like to play Candy Crush in class.

The translator

This teacher deems it necessary to translate every word you utter. What does this mean? No one gives two shats about what you’re saying. They’re just waiting for the translation.

The moralist

This one tends to make you feel inadequate; correcting and appraising you in front of your students (ironically a big no-no in Korean culture, where saving face is king). The upswing? Ask me next month.

The martial

This teacher applies the logic of an army formation to teaching, ruling his classdom with military precision. He takes pleasure in disciplining students in front of their peers – sending them to the back while you are teaching or threatening them with a blunt object. You’d like to remind them that corporal punishment is illegal in your home country – but then again, you’re a little scared yourself…

The facilitator

Ah, at last. This co-teacher senses your needs – calling for order when attention spans run low or translating difficult words where charades or Google Translate has failed. You’d like to borrow her coral lipstick or ask if her brother is available for dates. But let’s not tilt the apple cart…

Of these, I’ve experienced shades of each. And although each personality brings unique opportunities and setbacks, I find that the relationships – like a good bottle of red – tends to improve with age (unless you are that lewd creepster – in which case you’ll never progress beyond a ‘cooking wine’).

But this is not to say that I’m a perfect teacher. Just today, my grade ones were so intolerably noisy that at one point I had to whip out the dreaded “JAAA!” (a fiery Korean equivalent of ‘HEY YOU!”). I then had to remind myself not to let my students see me lose my cool, and so switched up the textbook-based lesson for some animated storytelling.

Strangely enough, my co-teacher failed to show up for this lesson – which goes a long way to show that the mere presence of a Korean elder can affect classroom management.

Equally, I was scolded last week for allowing my students to watch music videos at the end of class – something I occasionally allow in the last 3-5 minutes as reward for good work. ‘Fair enough’ you may be thinking – this has no relevance in the classroom. But if you are familiar with Korean boy bands, you’ll also want to get your fangirl on.

Speaking of which, Big Bang just came on my iTunes playlist… excuse me while I dance in the mirror with my hairbrush.

**Side note: all of this in written in jest. I applaud any teacher with the balls to take on 30 adolescents. 화이팅!

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #2: The first dramatic peek into the classroom by Shannon Norman

2015-05-06T15:27:00.000+02:00

The first dramatic peek into the classroom - by Shannon Norman

I think time moves faster than the speed of light. Well, I’m almost certain it does because how on earth have I already forgotten how my first day of teaching at The Knowledge Workshop panned out? Is it because time flies when you’re having fun, or is it because I have a really bad memory? I’m still teaching here, so it must’ve been fine. Only joking, of course it was fine!

Oh Miss Confident, you say? Yeah, actually, you’re right. I am confident because I received the best training and therefore doubting my ability to do my job is pretty impossible. Yes, I was nervous. Yes, I spent over eight hours planning my lesson. Yes, I could’ve done better and yes, I am hard on myself, but that’s a very good thing. So, based on my experience, if you want to become a TEFL teacher you need to ensure that you’re well trained and have the necessary skills. Where do you get that? At a good school, and I’m grateful enough to have learned what I have because nothing is better than kickass TEFL training.

Shannon with her colleagues and students during TEFL/TESOL Practical week

So, to come back to my first day at TKW - it was rather interesting from what I can remember. In my mind I thought I was such a dork, but then all you have to do is stop, breathe and realise that your students look past what you think they can see and only really listen and watch you preach it! So chill out, life is “lekker” when you’re a TEFL teacher.

Right, let’s chat about teaching English in South Africa. This has been one fantastic experience. It’s the only place on this planet that I’ve ever taught English, but it’s still been a bloody great ride. I thought, “Brilliant, I get to teach my students about South African culture and all these really cool things that I research,” but then I soon realised that my students were thinking something very similar. I guess it went something like, “We are going to destroy our teacher with everything that we know and make her crave our magnificent information. We are going to creep into her heart and soul and leave her begging for more good stuff.” And boy do I crave being in their presence and squeezing the knowledge out of them. I sound like such a creep, but my students are filled with so many stories and they’re all extremely intelligent – I just can’t help but show them off.

I’ve had the privilege of teaching beautiful humans from DRC, Congo Brazzaville, Angola, Barcelona and Columbia. So basically, teaching English in South Africa has offered me diversity and new adventures, daily. It’s opened my eyes in the sense that I never thought that I would be crossing paths with so many different cultures. I'm constantly fascinated by the way in which these students communicate and express themselves in English; how you can have three different nationalities sitting around one table without it being a problem, and the language barrier becomes significantly smaller each day. It's just brilliant!

Shannon with students, Chancy, Elsa, Alfattah and Reetta in class.

Now I’m going to flip the page over and talk about something else. I’ll try to keep the creepiness out this time, I promise. We all have our own ways of coping with stressful situations, right? I was recently faced with one. As Murphy would have it, I fell sick the day I was supposed to start training one of my students for her TOEFL test (an English proficiency test). A million thoughts started running through my mind. Am I going to disappoint her, will I disappoint the school, how will we ever catch up? I stress easily – less these days – but I still manage to find time to stress. As a teacher, you have to make way for these sorts of things and just handle it the best you can. You have to work around issues that are unforeseen, but make the most of it at the same time. And what happened next was unforeseen.

We had many public holidays during the second week of TOEFL training and school closes on public holidays. So when my student phoned in on the Tuesday of the third week of training and excused herself due to illness for two days I started feeling the pressure. It’s like the workload was telling me, “See you in hell, sweetheart.” But, this is where your coping mechanisms kick in and your role as the teacher needs to become a powerful one. You need to make sure that when teaching resumes, you take it by the horns and work like you’ve never worked before. Because it’s not like you’re in a traditional classroom where you have 30 students and where one student’s absenteeism doesn’t affect you. TKW focuses on smaller groups where each and every single student means more than words can describe.

What I’m trying to get at is that you’re going to experience problems, and that whoever said that everything comes in the form of roses and Liquorice All Sorts is a lair. What you need to do is remain calm and give your students your all, regardless of the storm hanging over your head.

Okay, I’m done acting like your mom and telling you what to do, just have fun out there and keep your eyes glued to the blog. I’ve got some interesting stories to share with you later on.

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #6: The ride of a lifetime by Georgina Selander

2015-04-24T11:59:00.000+02:00

The Ride of a Lifetime - by Georgina Selander

Selfie with my students from Yesan Girls Middle School

I stretch my eyes wide – showing her their yellow-brown irises. Quickly, I open my mouth to reveal a pair of sharp incisors. And just as I lean in for a bite… Snap! I pull back, watching as the bob-haired girl recoils in fear.

Today is the bi-weekly conversation class and the theme is phobias. It just so happens that one of my students, Da-Keong, has a morbid fear of yellow eyes. It also just so happens that I have a pair.

On Monday and Tuesday afternoons, 15-20 of the strongest English speakers join me in the English classroom for a 45-minute conversation lesson. The class is a delight – a reprieve from the repetitive “teacher, hi!” or worse, the sea of blank faces that characterises most of my day. It’s a chance for me to really engage with my students – to bring in interesting topics and to teach them English that extends beyond the parroted “nice to meet you”. And to cap it off, these students are enthusiastic and polite.

But enthused or not, I can’t deny that after any given day I’m thoroughly exhausted. In all my classes, I try my utmost to keep up a smiley disposition – and when the mood is low I try to liven the atmosphere with some innocent tomfoolery – breaking into wild song and dance usually does the trick. (Teaching hack #605: if you are having fun, so are they).

Over the din of chatty teens, it’s often necessary to project my voice – to the extent that by the end of some classes I’m shouting. Luckily I’ve now learnt to say, “Listen, everyone” in Korean. This is usually met with a moment of silence – generally as they’re impressed to have heard me speak Korean. It must also be noted, however, that generally in each class there’s one angel whose god-sent talent is to tell the rest of the kids to put an effing sock in it.

So, to get back to my long-winded point: although I undeniably love my job, I do look forward to the 4:30pm homeward stroll. It gives me time to reflect on the day, get some fresh air and, most importantly, scan the streets for any Korean hotties (sadly, talent is at an all-time low in my area).

Rainy spring day

On Thursday afternoons, (as my school is in a neighbouring town) walking is out of the question. Instead, around 3pm I make my way to the bus stop from Dae Heung Middle School (if you can call a rickety bench a bus stop). When the bus arrives it’s generally full of middle-aged ladies, each of whom give me a thorough dressing down as I slot my 2700 won into the money counter. I glance over the rows of sunhats, gloves and zimmers. Without fail, all ajummas (middle-aged to elderly women) dress like they’re about to do some serious gardening.

I make sure my shoulders are hidden from view (side note: although it’s not uncommon to see Korean girls with shorts so short you can almost spot a v-jay, shoulder-showing is a big no-no! A strange epitome of ultra-conservative-meets-ultra-modern Korean society).

But on this particular Thursday, a few minutes before the bus was due to arrive, a black truck with tinted windows rolls over. Now let me make something clear, the sight of a slowly approaching darkened vehicle in South Africa signals only one of three things. A) You’re about to be shot: run for your life. B) You’re about to be kidnapped: run for your life. C) They just popped a tyre: run for your life.

But being in Korea, all new situations – life-threatening or not – are relatively novel. And so, when the car in question rolled up and the darkened windows rolled down, I was more amused than afraid. Unfortunately the driver, who shouted out a mouthful of Korean, spoke not a word of English. But after some gesticulation, I ascertained that he was simply offering me a lift. Ignoring the don’t-take-sweets-from-a-stranger warnings of my childhood, I opened the door.

A few minutes into the ride, the driver began to pull over to the shoulder of the road. It was at this point that I started to assess the emergency exits and tried to recall the nose-throat-groin self-defence that I learnt from Miss Congeniality. It turns out he simply wanted to adjust the air-con.

The ride continued – and so did the Korean inquisition. Although I had no idea what the man was asking me, I responded with the basic Korean phrases I knew: telling him I was South African, that I was a Middle School English teacher and, essential to all phrasebooks, asking for the train station.

Eventually we approached my town. Although I tried to request that he drop me at the bus station, he insisted that he drop me at my home. (I can already hear my mother’s voice: GEORGINA! You showed him where you live?? I will smack you). As I got out of the car, I thanked him for his kindness and bowed deeply as a sign of respect.

Walking to my door, I smiled at the benevolence of the gesture. Call me naïve, but there’s a culture of good-heartedness in Korea that brings me happiness daily. From the simple gifts of fruit occasionally placed on my school desk, to the genuine concern from my co-teachers should I appear down, to the excited faces of my students when they spot me in the grocery store or at the train station.

It feels like to be happy in Korea is a simple recipe – although I’m still figuring out the ingredients. And for some reason, this makes me recall an exchange with one of my students earlier this week.

“Jisu, did you have a good weekend?” I ask.

“No, teacher.”

“Oh no! What happened?”

She bows her head. I prepare for the worst.

“My mother did not cook rice this weekend,” she replies.

**The views expressed in this blog are not necessarily those of The Knowledge Workshop but we find them hilarious anyway.

English teacher. Nice to meetcha. Blog post #1: Who am I? by Shannon Norman

2015-04-09T15:47:00.000+02:00

Who am I? - by Shannon Norman

Who am I?

If you’ve never asked yourself this question, you’re either lucky or naïve. So, who am I? As clichéd as this might sound, I’m not sure. But I’m getting there. What I’m meant to be discovering right now is not all that clear, but I’m certainly learning more than I anticipated.

I do have a few details to share with you though. Before I get started – take off your shoes, feel amused for I’m about to take you on a quick cruise. I’ll start with the usual – my name is Shannon Norman, I’m corny and almost 23 years old. I can’t draw, but I like to think that I’m creative. I hate peas, but I love my cat, Jeffrey, even though I’m allergic to him and every other cat. I’m as Capetonian as can be, except I care about being late. I did, however, live in Johannesburg for a year and a bit – so at least I’ve managed to experience life outside of Cape Town. If you think that you haven’t travelled enough and feel slightly embarrassed about it, meet me and you’ll feel a whole lot better. I’ve been almost nowhere. And yes, you guessed it. I haven’t been overseas – not even to Robben Island! :)

Anyway! I started the TEFL course at The Knowledge Workshop (TKW) on the 24^th of November 2014 and graduated on the 19^th of December 2014. I used to be a Content Marketer and Social Media Community Manager, but resigned a month before I started the course at TKW. I knew deep down that letting go of the known and embracing the unknown was what I needed. A ‘TEFL adventure’ sounded perfect to me. Older, wiser people in my life always suggested this “teaching English” thing, but never did I think that they knew exactly what I needed to be doing. Perhaps there are a few people out there who know you better than yourself…

As soon I stepped into the wooden-floored classroom and met the people that I would be surrounding myself with for the next three weeks, I knew that I was doing the right thing. And the more exposure I got to the course content, alarms started setting off in my head; a voice spoke to me: “Shannon – this is totally the right thing, girlfriend. You’ve just made the best decision of your life. High-five!” After that, everything felt right.

English Teacher. Nice to meetcha.

So, what happened after I completed the TEFL course? Well, besides the fact that it opened my mind and forced me to think differently about the English language and life in general (I’m serious); I became a teacher at TKW. Escalate quickly much? But thanks to this escalation of fabulous events, my learning and discovering is increasing by the second. So, a big thank you goes out to TKW.

Now, it’s been almost two months and I haven’t looked back. If you want to find out what it’s like teaching English in South Africa and what my travel plans are for the near future, stay tuned for there are more of these to follow!

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #5: Classroom Jitters by Georgina Selander

2015-04-02T13:52:00.001+02:00

Classroom Jitters - by Georgina Selander

“Do you like the stew today?” May asks.

I take another mouthful of the sweet and spicy dish. Today’s lunch is surprisingly good.

“Sure. It’s really tasty!”

My co-teacher giggles.

“What’s in it?”

“It’s dog”.

Holy f**k – how did this happen? How do I spit this out without looking like an uncultured moron?

“No, May…I…can’t…” I blubber with my hand in front of my mouth.

Let’s be real here. I’ve been waiting for this moment. And considering today is my one-month anniversary in Korea, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner to be honest.

Fast-fast word a couple of minutes and it turns out – to my great relief – that the meal was duck. My co-teacher had simply mispronounced the word. That or my selective hearing needs some serious evaluation.

Cherry blossoms

A month in and it strangely hasn’t sunk in yet that I’m living in a foreign country. I’m still waiting for that ‘a-ha’ moment when everything becomes incredibly real. That moment when I’m walking through a busy intersection and suddenly it hits me that I’m 6000 miles from home…. Or is that a car hitting me?

That all Koreans eat dog is a common misconception (in the ranks of the misbelief that they all listen to K-Pop). In fact, most Koreans I’ve encountered are shocked at the mere idea of it. Needless to say, there is a restaurant opposite my school whose plat-du-jour is in fact man’s tastiest – ahem – best friend.

Anyway, let’s move on shall we? I did promise to get to the teaching part in the last post…

Although my training certainly prepared me well, teaching here is incredibly different to the time I spent teaching in South Africa at The Knowledge Workshop.

For starters, the level of the students is far lower than I anticipated. During my time at The Knowledge Workshop, I was lucky enough to encounter students of a fairly competent level – to the extent that I was able to bring in complex, but stimulating topics such as world conspiracy theories or the works of great philosophers, writers and artists.

Lunch time

Here, I consider myself lucky to have a student tell me “Nice to meet you” (despite having had weeks of classes together).

Classroom behaviour came as another surprise. During one of my first lessons, I asked my students “What are the class rules?” The expected response was, “No eating” or “No talking when the teacher is talking”. Instead, I got “No perms”. Well that’s certainly a first!

Although I am yet to witness this illusive perm, I have been privy to some other greats, such as sleeping in class (to be fair this is because Korean students spend an ungodly amount of time at school) and spending 90% of the lesson applying make-up, neither of which would go down well in a South African classroom.

Let’s regress to childhood quickly, shall we? I’m sure you all remember that teacher(s) who told you – with a smile on her face – that there’s “No such thing as favourites”. I’m gonna break it down real quick. She lied.

Occasionally, a teacher is lucky enough to come across that rare gem of a student whose knowledge, enthusiasm and willingness surpasses that of their peers. And though they may be shy, they tend to know most of the answers (I’m not talking about the know-it-all Hermione Grangers of the world). And although we will never admit as much (teaching rule #325) they tend to put a smile on our faces.

That being said, there is unfortunately the flipside – the students who really couldn’t give a damn and who tend to ruin the experience for everyone else. They will have you questioning your ability and reciting “I’ve got this” mantras pre-class.

So, when one such student walked in to my Tuesday class, I already had my back up. Needless to say, my spidey skills weren’t off – she immediately removed a hand mirror and spent the following 20 minutes applying heavy make-up. Eventually the spectacle moved me to approach the student and seize her mirror. “This is very rude I said,” quite calmly (teaching rule #267: never lose your composure).

Immediately one of her friends exclaimed, “Teacher! You bad girl!”. I wasn’t sure whether I was more surprised by three consecutive English words or by the rudeness of the remark. A stream of unrepeatable Korean swearwords by the student in question followed.

There’s a saying along the lines of “Maybe all a monster really needs is a hug”. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not calling this particular student a monster. In fact, I give them all props for handling life as a pubescent teen with raging hormones.

But, given this thought, I had a change of heart. Ignoring my gut instinct to completely snub her, I instead welcomed her into the game of 30 seconds. And to my surprise, her attitude completely changed. (I was told by my co-teacher after class that most of my students had given up on her – to the extent that she was being considered for suspension).

The moral of the story? Don’t let it get you down. You will likely find that the majority of your students are absolute angels. Most days their excitement significantly perks me up. And most days they will unashamedly tell you how pretty you are (or in my case: “You have such a high nose, Gina teacher. Wow!”)

And if all else fails, type “kittens playing with babies” into Youtube. It never fails to impress.

Pajeon (green onion Korean pancake)

But anyway, I must sign off. My pajeon (green onion Korean pancake) is starting to burn on the stove. And my glass of red has reached a dangerously low level…

Until we meet again!

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #4: Checking In - by Georgina Selander

2015-03-18T11:05:00.000+02:00

Blog 4: Checking In

“Do you have any baggage to check in, mam?”

I heave my gargantuan suitcase onto the scale. I know I’m a few kilos off but what happens next I’m not expecting.

“Mam, you’re 16 kilos overweight. Please remove some items or pay in $60…”

“$60? Okay, I can do that…”

“No mam. $60 per kilogram.”

Oh god. That’s half of my savings. Don’t cry. Too late.

20 hours later I arrived at Incheon Airport. Following instruction, my first task was to contact my hotel to organise a pick-up. I locate a payphone, scramble for a handful of silver coins and dial the number. Instantly I’m greeted by a barrage of rapid Korean.

“Um, hello. Is this the International Guesthouse?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“My name is Georgina and…”

“Oh, yes. I fetch you now.”

Silence.

“Okay. Where shall I meet you?”

“Entrance six. 15 minutes. Bye.”

Wait – what?

I locate entrance six. Stepping outside is like walking onto the Alaskan plains. Barefoot. Ten minutes later I’m in a white sedan (heated seats, nogal) and on my way to the hotel.

“Tonight you have roommate. She from America.”

Great. 20 hours on a plane and three different time zones. The last thing I feel like is a chatty yank who wants to know why (if I’m from Africa) am I white?

Turns out I shouldn’t have been so judgey. Shannon and I connected instantly and we’ve been friends ever since.

Fast forward a couple of hours and I’m on my way to Yesan – the small county which will be my ‘home town’ for the next year.

Driving through the countryside, I realise it’s a lot more rural – and industrial – than I expected. And although the thought of a remote area sparked an image of rolling greens and golden mountain scapes, the landscape is in fact dry and stark.

That being said, spring time is fast approaching – which means the area will soon be transformed by hundreds of blooming cherry blossoms and the abundant apple orchards for which my area is famous.

I was taken to my apartment by one of my co-teachers, Mrs Ha. Upon opening the door, I was met with a musty smell best described as ‘grandma’s closet’. Nevertheless, it’s a cosy set-up – and the previous tenant left behind a hoard of useful items – including a collection of classic novels, a large bottle of shampoo and a rusty razor.

After my co-teacher left, the first point of call was to go to the bathroom. All morning I’d been dying for the loo – but was too shy to speak up. Within minutes, a minor crisis ensued. Upon flushing, water began rising rapidly in the bowl – and soon started flowing over the rim of the seat.

Thou cream-faced loon! What do I do now?

The basic Korean phrases I knew definitely didn’t extend to “excuse me, my toilet is overflowing – can you help?”

Eventually, after a number of vivid gestures, the problem was solved by means of a non-English-speaking Korean handy-man. Or was he the landlord??

It’s now been two weeks that I’ve been in this strange, magical land. And compliments of the welcoming locals, it’s been a smooth ride.

The culture of respect here continues to amaze and delight me. Simple things like a bow (when greeting) or folding one hand into the crease of the other arm (when giving or receiving something) is foreign to my South African upbringing – and yet so indicative of the courteous and kind Korean society into which I am slowly assimilating.

And the teaching aspect? Well that’s a whole ‘nother story! Next time shall we?

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #3 - by Georgina Selander

2015-02-23T12:25:00.000+02:00

Inspired insights from a TEFL teacher

Cultivating confidence

We’ve all encountered that teacher. And this has nothing to do with awkward dress sense (grandpa sweaters made a comeback, right?) but more about the palm-sweating, word-swallowing, eye-contact-avoiding type. The teacher whose shyness so overwhelms them that the spectacle that plays out is uncomfortable to watch.

Professing to be no self-help guru, (and a repeat-offender of awkwardness myself) I can’t tell you exactly what it takes to be self-assured. What I do know is that, standing in front of your class (wherever it may be) has earned you your stripes. You’re past the point of good impressions – it’s just a matter of living up to them.

So my advice to you would be: own your space.

When I first began teaching at The Knowledge Workshop, there were inevitably some first-time jitters. I wasn’t sure if I was really competent enough to take up this experience, or to be the captain of the proverbial classroom ship. But over time, I learnt to trust in myself and my ability. I learnt that my role didn’t require a complete personality shift – but rather allowing my unique teacher brand to shine through.

It goes without saying that we’re all distinctive individuals. And the beauty of this is that, because of that, we come to the classroom with our own set of interests, and a unique repertoire of cultural experience. So let that be your guide.

As a writer, I’ve often been told that the best place to start is with what you know. Applying that to teaching means that whatever your background – football fundi, food enthusiast or artist extraordinaire – there is a way to incorporate your personal skillset into the classroom.

Bring in materials that you’re knowledgeable about and interested in – and your personal passion will motivate your students. An inspired and insightful teacher is always a memorable one.

That being said, we also tend to be our harshest critics. When things don’t pan out as expected, or a game doesn’t garner the wide-eyed enthusiasm you’d hoped for, don’t let this bring you down. If anything, it’s an opportunity to assess what kinds of materials your class finds stimulating. And there’s no harm in re-working a previous activity to greater effect.

Don’t let perfectionism or self-doubt put you in a prickly perch. Even if it requires ten minutes of slow breathing before entering the classroom, or a morning mirror mantra telling yourself how absolutely fabulous you are (because you are).

It’s not that we all need to be the Regina George of the classroom. Heaven knows it’s taken me a long road to work on my sense of self-assurance. But it’s a process with a surprising domino effect – once you feel comfortable in your classroom skin, the rest will come so much easier.

So much of my life was dictated by an internal dialogue of unworthiness. Until I realised I needed to change my personal pep-talk.

So remember this:

You’re the captain of your ship. The master of your sail. Trust me, you got this.

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog entry #2 - by Georgina Selander

2015-02-09T16:18:00.000+02:00

Inspired insights from a TEFL teacher

A few weeks into my EFL teaching, I stumbled upon an interesting quote:

“The best teachers are those who show you where to look, but don’t tell you what to see” – Alexandra K. Trenfor.

For me, this really summed up what it means to be a good (scratch that; great) teacher.

So I thought back to all the life-changing, above-and-beyond teachers I’d had in the past (and also the crummy, dispassionate ones whose names have joined the ranks of other forgettable faces) and saw a common thread.

The best teachers subtly direct your focus towards interesting, exciting possibilities and points of view – without yanking your head in a particular direction (or force-feeding you their own agenda).

As you might have guessed, being a teacher means more to me than grammar. It’s more than syntax and mistaken concord and incorrectly used prepositions.

In my mind it’s about awakening in your students an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and learning that goes beyond the classroom. It’s about students who voluntarily take out library books or approach me, after class, for an enthused chat. It’s about the moments when you get asked for homework.

Immediately I think of one student who I’ve taught for the last few months. I won’t name names – so let’s call him James.

To paint a picture, James is a charismatic 19-year-old with the kind of curly, chocolate-brown hair that makes you instantly want to reach out and touch it (If you have the sudden urge to belt out Marilyn Manson’s eponymous cult hit, you’re not alone). He walks with a casual lilt and is known to belt out a string of hilarious asides. And although looks may be deceiving, James came to the school able to say only three things:

1.) His name

2.) His age

3.) How are you?

His limited vocabulary was evidently no deterrent to his learning. After two months, his level of English had put some of my old back-of-the-class, cell-phone-obsessed, spit-ball-throwing school mates to shame.

So what set this student apart? For one thing, his uncapped enthusiasm. For another, his proactive attitude to learning.

During break time, while other students dashed off, James would engage me with probing questions – to the extent that I found myself pushed to bring in material appropriately stimulating or else have additional hand-outs at my disposal.

But another essential ingredient in his recipe for success is confidence.

Confidence – a grey for some (myself included). But do not be of the mind that, without a psychology degree, your skills aren’t relevant here.

In fact, a large part of the teacher’s job is to create a space in which all students – shy or not – feel comfortable to express themselves. And this very action, this ability to contribute in a group environment, has a hefty impact on a student’s self-esteem.

Unrestrained and eager to learn, James would never shy away from discussion or participation. Wherever an opportunity to stretch himself was presented, he took it. And, in turn, encouraged his peers to do the same.

So let me get to the point of this. If there’s one tip I can give you, one parting word of advice before you set foot, it would be this:

Give your students room to grow. Feed them with the language skills they require. Nourish them with the knowledge that, no matter their strengths or weaknesses, doubts or fears, they all have a place under the sun to blossom. But most of all? Sow the seeds of inspiration from the get-go.

Bordering on wish-washy new-agery? Fair enough –

“Tell them where to look but not what to see.”

Written for The Knowledge Workshop by Georgina Selander

Eat. Play. Teach. Blog post #1 - by Georgina Selander

2015-02-05T12:24:00.000+02:00

Inspired insights from a TEFL teacher

I guess it goes without saying that the hardest part of any challenge is just getting started. And so, when tasked with creating a ‘confessions-of-an-EFL-teacher’ style blog, I spent several minutes staring at a blank screen, wondering where to begin.

But now that I’ve cleared my throat, got the first words onto the page, let’s start with the basics.

My name is Georgina Selander. I’m 23-years-old. And I’m currently working as an EFL teacher for The Knowledge Workshop.

Arriving at this state was a potluck decision. After reaching the end of my tether at a series of boring desk jobs, I decided that the 9-5 grind wasn’t for me. At least for the time-being.

Yes, I’m young and still figuring it out. And yes, I have no idea what to say when asked, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” But who really knows anyway? It’s the journey, not the destination that makes life worthwhile.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a desire to explore; a thirst for knowledge and experience that, at times, took me to the limits of my sanity.

As a child, I spent hours swept up in imaginative games – hiding out in a dark cupboard pretending to be adrift in space or meticulously constructing ‘fairy gardens’ with an assortment of glittery trinkets.

And although the character of these made-up worlds varied daily, there was a common thread – an interest in the unexplored and a desire to visit places unknown.

Perhaps it was this, in addition to the rebellion towards office humdrum that brought me to the steps of an Observatory-based language school called The Knowledge Workshop.

In truth, it was also a longing for something fresh, and the promise of worldwide adventure. And although I’d never seriously considered a career in teaching before, once my three-week TEFL course was over, I was hesitant to leave.

It has now been five months since I walked through the door of this special school. Five months since I nervously climbed the flight of stairs and set foot inside. Five months since the school’s director asked me to “stay on to take some classes”. And I’ve never looked back.

I began teaching at The Knowledge Workshop in September 2014. Although having just completed my TEFL certificate, I had little idea of what to expect – of the life-long friendships I was to form with my co-workers and students, or of the unknowably enriching experiences that I would have.

Each day has brought a host of surprises. I have grown more as a human being and as a ‘working professional’, than I ever anticipated. And it’s a journey that continues to reward and amaze me, every step of the way.

In the entries that follow, I’ll share with you the moments of triumph – but also the trying times, the – arguably hard-pressed – occasions in which I was once again a child adrift in space. But most all, I’ll try to capture, as authentically as I can, what it means to be an EFL teacher.

Several months on, it’s hard to remember exactly those first few classes – or the first late nights spent vigorously planning. But I do remember feeling as if I’d found a perfect fit – akin to slipping on a ‘little black number’ that hugs in all the right places and instantly makes you feel like you could rule a small country.

When I look back on those first lesson plans, what I see is someone eager to please, unsure of whether I was ‘doing the right thing’. But I needn’t have worried – the relaxed atmosphere of The Knowledge Workshop and jovial camaraderie of the students soon set me at ease.

I do remember one of those first classes – a lesson (under the week-long theme of ‘hoaxes and conspiracy theories’) about the 1969 American moon landing. With a bit of prompting, I opened the floor to discussion – and was amazed at the level of critical thinking and insight given from a classroom of mainly high school graduates.

We soon found ourselves in rigorous discussion (and occasional fits of laughter as preposterous theories came to the fore) and, for the rest of the week, there was a keenness among the students to share their points of view.

It was that lesson that really broke any perceived barriers down – that gave me the feeling that this newfound family was the place for me to test boundaries, rouse educated discussion and really get my students talking. The intention was never a history lesson, or a study in anti-establishment feeling, but the playful nature of the class – and those to follow – masked the difficulty of the day’s challenging grammar (subject-verb agreement).

I came home that evening buoyed by a feeling of happiness and surety that I’d found that ‘perfect fit’.

written for The Knowledge Workshop by Georgina Selander

5 steps to quitting your job to become an ESL teacher - By Michelle D'Almeida

2014-08-09T15:08:00.001+02:00

It is with sadness and pride that we bid farewell to Michellé D’Almeida, who is leaving TKW to embark on her first overseas teaching post. Read her tips on becoming an EFL/ESL teacher…

5 Steps to Quitting your Job to become an EFL teacher

So after weeks – maybe months – of consideration, you’ve finally decided to escape the office to take advantage of EFL opportunities around the world. Because the first step can be daunting, here are 5 essential tips to quitting your job to become an EFL teacher.

· Do thorough research into teaching opportunities

Quitting your job with only a vague idea of all the countries you're going to travel to and places you're going to teach isn't recommended. It is paramount that you consider the options available to you based on your passport and qualification constraints.

Telling your boss to do his own pencil pushing because you're going to be earning top-dollar in South Korea, only to realize later that Korea requires a degree or Saudi Arabia requires teaching experience can quickly turn the best decision you've ever made into the worst. Do your homework and plan accordingly to ensure that you're not caught out.

· Get TEFL certified by a reputable, accredited TEFL organisation

On that note, a TEFL certificate, with some practical training is fast becoming a minimum requirement in language schools the world over. While there are many TEFL courses avaliable both online and in person, recuiters for the most coveted positions will give preference to people who have done the course in-class.

It’s important to keep this in mind when choosing your course. Unfortunately, the character of the EFL/ESL industry is such that it can easily be exploited. Hundreds of online companies and 'schools' will offer you TEFL courses and certifications claiming to be accredited, when in fact their accreditation is not worth anything.

The Knowledge Workshop offers tried and tested online and in-class TEFL courses, as well as a real-life practical training course that is a great supplement to any prior training.

· Get some teaching experience

Once you’ve got your TEFL certificate, you might still have some time to kill before hopping on a plane. Use this time to try your hand at teaching in real life. You could do this in a number of ways. You could look into volunteer programmes in your general area; speak to TKW about their volunteer teaching programmes where teachers develop their skills whilst benefiting local students; you could approach language schools to look for part time work; or do some private tutoring. For more information about these opportunities, contact The Knowledge Workshop.

· Treat teaching like a job

In other words, take what you do seriously. Like any job and/or industry, stay abreast of the latest news, tools and developments. Read up on teaching philosophies, lesson ideas and classroom management strategies.

While being an EFL teacher will afford you many great opportunities to travel, socialise and (in most cases) make a good amount of money; EFL is not a Contiki Tour. It’s a job and should be appraoched as such. Being a good teacher that can really impact on students will be one of the most worthwhile reasons to embark on this new path – whether it be for a year, or longer.