The Seventh Circle of Hell

This morning, I arrived at school to find that I either had no classes, or maybe that classes had changed, or maybe I had some classes, but not my normal Wednesday schedule.

Or something.

This rearranging of the schedule is, of course, completely normal. I haven't taught a full 5-day week since arriving in Korea. Or maybe I did.... once.

At some point, I wandered into the staffroom where a bunch of female teachers were putting what seemed to be peanut butter into plastic cups (it was bean paste). I asked what it was and why they were doing it, and ended up being told that "Today is Teacher Health Day. All Mokpo teachers are going to some random gym to exercise. You will come and help."

I feigned incomprehension. I pretended that I was very busy. Finally, I relented.

I arrived at the gym in the middle of goddamn nowhere and was immediately put to work. I started heaving boxes of food (my school was catering, apparently, and I was part of the food service team). And then, I was told to unpack the food and put it on this table... that is until someone else came along and told me to unpack the food and put it on that table... except for *that* which should be on *this* table. I would have joyously throttled the VP when she pointed at a pile of boxes (containing booze, food etc) and said "Baginia. Move that over there", just after I'd moved it from there .... I guess they'd figured out that I was the strongest girl of the bunch (and not wearing stilettos, or carrying a purse that I refused to put down).

The men, obviously exhausted from their long wait for the food, arrived and scarfed down plates full of raw fish guts, pork fat, kimchi.... and the women ran to get more. The whole food service thing was supposed to be "self-service", which loosely translated means "Men in suits stand here and drink makoli (really freaking strong rice wine) while the women run around and serve you". At one point, having eaten and drunk their fill, the men wandered off to play volleyball (obviously the "health" portion of the day). Every so often, someone would take notice of the only foreigner in a 20 km radius and engage me in conversation.... then they would turn to their friend and say something about me in Korean (which I would respond to, getting the shocked "Oh, damn, she understands Korean" face). Ya... well, I don't really. I can just fake it....

Anyway, at one point, after a particularly uncomfortable conversation with 5 drunken ajosshis (middle-aged Korean men), I wandered off to the gymnasium. Suddenly it occurred to me where I was - I was freezing cold, watching male chauvinism run rampant, surrounded by food I refused to smell, let alone eat, and being harassed by old drunken men, while being forced to watch some of the worst volleyball ever played in the history of time. Ahem.

I was in the Seventh Circle of Hell.

Now, I won't exaggerate and say that it was the Ninth Circle of Hell, because there were a few saving graces: a bag of banana chips and a bag of almonds.

That is all.

No wait. I also discovered that my cell phone has a whole bunch of sucky video games on it....which I played until my thumbs were sore.

Oh, and Mr Pak, the 3rd grade teacher, who is an ajosshi, but not *that* kind of ajosshi. As soon as I found him, I stuck myself to him like glue. Finally, at about 4 pm, after a few unsuccessful attempts by Mr Pak to get a taxi to come out to whereevertheheckweweremiddleoffreakingnowhere, I left.

I stood on the street just outside of Hell for about 20 minutes until I finally managed to flag down a car containing a fluently bilingual angel in the form of a Mokpo National University teaching assistant who drove out of his way to drop me off a few blocks from my house.

Thus my faith in humanity and my love of Korea were both fully restored.

Oh, and I have the day off tomorrow for my school's birthday. So, yeah... I guess a trip to Hell and back is just payback for my charmed life.