Over the weekend I went to the Mask Festival in Andong Province. Lots of traditional food (they had whale; I didn't try it), traditional music and dancing (check out the vid of the couple doing dancing in front of the stage), and arts and crafts (yes, that's me making a bow and arrow).
For the past week my students have been finals, which means I haven' had to teach any classes. One would suppose I would be dreaming up fantastic new lessons plans, reading manuals on pedagogy and language learning, or at least organizing my desk. Instead I studied Korean vocab words and slept on my desk. When it actually came time to plan a lesson the day before, I decided on a common yet important subject: directions.
The result has been probably the worst lesson plan I've had to suffer through since I've started. Not that it doesn't get a little bitter every lesson and of course a little hustle makes up for many a mistake, as John Wooden says, but midway through the lesson the class positively runs out of energy and interest. The most frustrating thing is not knowing exactly what goes wrong. It's what someone with psychosis must feel like when they don't know exactly why the little green men speak to them and no one else.
