The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Yesterday was Teachers' Day, a holiday that is sadly lacking in Canada. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd gladly swap the August Civic Holiday for a Teachers' Day in May. It should be noted that it's not a public holiday here, but our school did decide to take us on a hike for the day instead of teaching. This is another trade I would recommend to any teachers looking to escape from school for a day.

The delightful thing about Teachers' Day, from a purely selfish point of view, is the windfall of gifts given to us by loving students and their parents. They're sometimes useful, sometimes hedonistic, but always appreciated. While there is some overlap between Canadian and Korean ideas of what constitutes an appropriate present, there are also some differences. To illustrate, I present to you now my list of received gifts. In order to forestall any otherwise inevitable wisecracking, I should note that, for the gifts listed, my co-teacher(s) for that particular student or class received the same thing. Unless otherwise noted, each gift is from one student.

Jeff's Teachers' Day Presents, 2008

-socks, 100% silk, 3 pairs
-socks, ankle, athletic, 3 pairs
-vitamins, Centrum Silver ("Specially formulated for adults 50+")
-movie tickets, 2
-t-shirt, white, 1 (my coworker Steve also received a t-shirt, but his was hot pink)
-lime and salt body wash, one bottle
-Nivea anti-perspirant spray, one bottle
-handkerchief, 1
-toothpaste, 6 (six!) tubes
-journal, 1
-Old Spice aftershave, one bottle
-L'Oreal "UV Perfect Advanced Fluid Protector (Dermatologically Tested on Asian Skin)" SPF 50, one bottle
-Krispy Kreme donuts, 6
-30,000 Won ($30) gift certificate, redeemable at various restaurants and stores in Korea

The last two were from the parents of my Dolphin kindergarten class. As you can see, there's a greater emphasis here on skin and beauty products , even for guys; I suspect this has a lot to do with the general importance of physical attractiveness for Koreans. The subway stations are covered in ads for plastic surgery clinics ("Small face, lovely breast"), and even our English textbooks aren't immune ("Does Helen have a fat boyfriend? No, Helen has a thin boyfriend. Helen likes thin boys.). As a teacher, I try to skirt away from these lessons as much as possible, though I do try to teach my students that "fat" is not typically considered an acceptable word for everyday conversation, at least not in the contexts shown in the book.

In part inspired by the gift of aftershave, I decided to shave my beard this week, and therefore came to school cleanshaven for the first time ever. The reaction was interesting. While the majority of my students (and coworkers) noticed something different, many were unable to put their finger on it, guessing instead that I'd gotten a haircut. I'm not sure if there's any particular significance to this, but if pressed to find some, I would hypothesize that it has to do with the scarcity of facial hair among Korean men (and women, for that matter). Because virtually no Koreans have beards or mustaches, they notice it when we Westerners have one, but may find it harder to spot it when it's gone. This is all pure conjecture, though.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go apply some Advanced Fluid Protector.