Dong-Chim

“Here is the church, here is the steeple; here is the way we say “morning” to teacher.” (SIC) - if that acronym can also be applied to words that don’t exactly rhyme, but for lack of creativity are used anyway

I’m not talking about the neon-cross adorned steeples that light the night sky from the hundreds of churches scattered around the city of Seoul; rather, I am making reference to the extended pointer fingers of tiny intertwined hands that seek, with the accuracy and enthusiasm of a well practiced proctologist, to salute the teacher foolish enough to turn a back. Every morning cries of "Dong-Chim" echo through the school, and are drowned by the even louder cries of the surprised teachers. Dong-Chim... is litterly translated "Poop Needle" .... oh gosh. I swear it must be a national sport here, and I am its super bowl.

This is just one of the many surprises of being a Hagwan (kiddy school) teacher; but the parents among you would likely find none of it to be especially different from your own experiences. (save maybe Dong-Chim)


We have “Broke Back Hagwan”… featuring a little boy who is always trying to kiss, with great affect, another little boy in the class. I’m not prepared to address that one yet.

There are many nose bleeds, from excessive picking; bumps, bangs and scratches are no strangers; but the best story I’ve had thus far was an act of revenge that I distinctly remember contemplating in my youth.

The dilemma, of course, is determining how to separate those who need to use the bathroom from those who simply want to escape from your class for a while. I can remember one such seat squirming occasion, when I was being taught a lesson about crying wolf, and I can remember thinking, “ fine… if the evil teacher won’t let me go to the bathroom, I’ll use the trash can… that will show her!” In the end, my evil plans never came to fruition; likely due to the large wooden paddle sitting on Principal (and Uncle) Carl’s bookshelf. Oh man had I had my meetings with that Guantanamo-esque attitude adjuster. I wonder if there is a scientific correlation between hewn pine and bladder capacity… must be.

So, even though I wanted to scold the little girl for dropping trou and relieving herself under the table, I couldn’t. For as I got down on my hands and knees with a box of tissues, I couldn’t hide my own smile…… my inner child was doing back flips…. “Good for you kid…… good for you.”