Reconstruction

20180818_115206 Reconstruction)

Advertisements

Colour, undecided

20180709_113022 (Colour, undecided)The view from my exam room. Bleak, chromatically.

Showing signs of life

Showing signs of life IMG_20160913_130051EDIT_zpsalstgrwe.jpg

The take home message is, MIC(key) mouse

Seeing Professor Stephen Krashen yesterday was quite enlightening to say the least. Fun, entertaining and still very much young at heart, he went on to spin a talk (you could hardly call it a lecture, could you?) for just over an hour.

Pretty good, I had no problems taking in the talk as it was a talk I’d seen on Youtube. Still, for something that he’s spoken about for a little over thirty years. Have things moved and progressed that slowly in the realm of language acquisition theory? Well, for such a contemporary message, he’s gotten good mileage from it. Nice work if you can get it, but I’m not sure if I could get it, no matter how hard I tried.

Comprehensible input this definitely was, and all credit to Professor Krashen for making the message so easy to digest. Nothing MICkey Mouse about it, but the one thing that I found the most pertinent was Comprehensible input. For me the analogy is that it’d could turn out to be a useful tool in my arsenal of teaching methods. If I can make myself clearer to young, Elementary students, then that would be a major step towards better teaching.

Aside from starting up my own Los Alamos laboratory, I’m going to have to read about it. For now, Krashen is going to have to be the Einstein or even, the Oppenheimer.

Phonemic alphabet, dyslexic graffiti

Graffiti in a form that might befit an Oxford university professor, or an English teacher on his day off. Hanging out at my wife’s university, with no other reason than to soak up the air conditioned air. Talk about a rarefied environment. The English teachers at Hoseo university also have an English camp too, teaching Elementary grade kids. I’ll have my second installment next week, this time at Sunmoon university. I spied on the stairwell walls maxims to encourage the students; poignant reminders that you’re at English camp. As if they’d forget. Still, I felt the need for some harmless graffiti. First of all in phonemic script, and then a slight on the Latin translation, Carpe diem, “Seize the carp.” For so much fish, it could lead to a lot of confusion, but perhaps none on the students part. Do they really read the signs anyhow?

Just an ode, more of a tip of the hat to ‘camps’. I’ve always taken the alternative meaning to the word ‘camp’ just to entertain myself even for just a moment. This is not what flashes through my mind, but more of an extension really.


From S.D to TJ.M

In 4 and half years. My move out to what I’m calling the “middle of no-where”. The new digs are quite literally between the two cities of Asan and Cheonan.

Sanbon Dong at the top, Tangjeong Myeon at the bottom

Located close to Sunmoon university, I learnt only the other day that the university had been set up by the Reverend Moon himself. According to my informant, every Head of schools office has a largese photo of Mr Moon and his wife on the wall. I thought it a bit grandiose and likened it to that of Soviet Russia with a picture of Lenin adorning every wall.

Cripes, I had some religious nutters hammer on the door the other day. Twice, and rather firmly too. I had be careful because they might be from the Mooney squad.

The upside to all of this is that my new digs are much larger than the previous ones, a whole 14 pyeong in Korean measures. The new apartment likens to an aircraft hangar in relative size to the old walk-in-closet sized apartment.

Up the Bung-hole at the throw of a dice

YOU ARE LOST

But to para-phrase Fred Dagg, “Not only down a hole, but at the very far end of a hole.” This particular hole was Bongwhasan was at the end of line number six, of the Seoul metro line. I called Ben a few expletives for rolling such a distant location. Bongwhasan was closer to Gangwon-do than it was to Seoul, or in our case, Bupyeong in Incheon, which is where we had meet. Travelling to this place might take longer than the actual walk itself, though I don’t remember what time we arrived at Bongwhasan station itself.

Leaving the subway underground we found that the city was surprisingly modern, albeit with an obsession with oddly shaped air-conditioning ducts. Some of them looked quite contemporary, even novelle. But from odd looking a/c ducts to just an unfortunate array of initals. SNUT,which I suppose means Seoul National University of Technology. Maybe.

Having walked from the station of arrival to the next stop in what felt like a few minutes we arrived at the next stop, Hwarangdae, and according to the thumbprint map in the subway, the home of the tombs for the Chuseon royal family. Though significant, they couldn’t be found, and were not evident in the cityscape. Quite possibly a bus ride away. Ben and I didn’t bother, but after a short discussion decided to follow the minor stream that ran more or less along the same route as the expressway that loomed overhead.

The stream is a place to recreate for many Koreans, and geese alike. Spotted along the way were some informational signs warning of falling objects. In walking through it also showed the almost compulsary graffiti under the bridge. Despite Korea’s straight-laced reputation, you can find signs of anarchy in the form of graffiti if you know where to look. Ecclectic messages ranging from ‘dong’ to cryptic references to game over to faces on a wall. It must have amounted to a fair investment of time for the graffitists involved.

As our walk along the stream progressed the actual stream turned into a river, with anglers, some casual and some simply out for their dinner sitting side by side.

A stop by the river for a rest was taken, but the visual entertainment didn’t stop there. While trying to take a photograph of a crane sitting mid-stream, this pre-schooler wandered into view. He was all class. First chasing the pigeons here and there, while almost tripping up on his own feet. To finish his ensemble, he decided to take a piss into the river he was standing adjacent. Ben and I were hoping for some miracle that he might find his way into the river or that a random heavy object would fall from the sky in a similar style of the information signs seen before.

The final lap, or perhaps the last straw was trying to find a way to cross the river, hopefully by bridge, which seemed to not to exist to accomidate pedestrians though. Instead the solution was to find a bus stop and ride the bus to the nearest subway station, which our case was Cheonganyi.

From annoying to really to just plain bothersome, we sat in our wooden panned chairs at Yongsan station when what turned out to be a Mormon. She began trying to win us over to Mormonism, but the sales pitch was falling on deaf ears. A conversation ensued between her and Ben while I say beside Ben, half grinning, half ignoring what was going on. A hard sell both of us, but she was presistent, and found to be lacking the vocabulary of refusal and denial. She finished and went back to her older supervisor. A perfect end to long slog through the bunghole.