The Imminent Good-Bye

As I predicted, the best part of their trip to the War Museum was the pond outside...

October has never been a good month for me. When I was younger, the back to school excitement had worn off and I would look forward to Christmas break. In my days at Bishop Carroll high school, it meant crazy rehearsals and stress. Every year we put together a piece about war for Remembrance Day- and every year I was on the planning/tech committee, and performed as well. Once the show was written and cast, October was the only month we had to rehearse and promote. It usually involved intense arguments with other departments at school over facilities as well. Octobers after high school carried with them an extreme boredom. Maybe I missed the chaos of the Remembrance Day shows, but it always seemed like more than that. October is an ominous month in Canada- it's a little chilly, but you know in your head that you're verging on freezing cold. You prepare for the painfully long winter. October is a little bit sad. So the first year that I experienced this boredom, I headed down to the piercing shop and awarded myself with an eyebrow ring. It eased the boredom a little, and it became an October tradition for awhile. The following October, my friend Tom and I went together for piercings. I was under strict instructions from my boss not to get another facial piercing (which I would have disregarded were he not also a friend), so I had my belly button pierced. Tom had his lip done, but took it out only two days later. The following October, I opted for a tongue piercing. And the following October, I was at theatre school in Montreal and was ordered to take them all out. A perfectly good tradition spoiled by school. Good thing it wasn't tattoos, that would've been expensive. October came to mean something different for me two years ago. Something about that whole month in 2004 didn't sit right with me. I had nightmares, which I've never had before. I had vivid dreams in which my mother died. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, and the sense that something was about to happen. I had been lucky too long. No one close to me had died since I was eight years old. I was certain that my mother was going to pass in the next few weeks. I called her often and always became very anxious when she didn't answer the phone. The week before Halloween, I called my dad and spoke to Travis also. I had talked to Tyler the week before and didn't want to push my luck- he wasn't really a phone person. It drove me nuts all week. Why hadn't I asked to speak to Tyler? I dismissed my uneasy feeling and promised myself that I would call the following week. The night of October 30th, Fred went to a party and I stayed home. I was really sad and didn't know why. I thought about calling Tyler, but decided to do it the next day instead, when I felt better. As it turned out, there was no next time. Tyler passed away the following afternoon, without warning. I look back on pictures from Halloweens past and wonder if there was a reason that it had to be Halloween. Was there a special significance for Tyler? Was it simply that he set out to be remembered? Tyler was born on February 15th- to my memory missing a Valentine's birthday by only a few hours. He died on Halloween and we buried him on Remembrance Day. So many Halloweens that we spent together, trick or treating and playing together without ever the thought that on this day many years later, it would all end. Tyler once clipped off the top of my middle finger on Remembrance Day- there was blood everywhere and I think he cried more than I did. Though the only mark left is a scar only I seem to be able to see, there is also a certain numbness on the tip. I don't really feel anything there. The days after Tyler's death, it throbbed. On the one year anniversary of Tyler's passing, I was here in Korea. The school was chaotic with kids in costume and I ducked out for a little while to take a walk. On the way back from the bank machine, my pictures fell out of my wallet and I went for lunch without noticing. As I crossed back to the school an hour later, a Korean man came running after me, holding out Tyler's picture. I was so confused. In his broken English he explained that he'd seen me drop it and waited for me outside my work. I managed to hold myself together for the rest of the day, and finally made it back to my apartment where I could let it out.

Jacob, Mary & Jennifer

The last week has been really sad for me. The kids have begun to understand that I'm leaving and are acting strangely. A few kids can't pass by my classroom without ducking in to say hello. The four kids that I've taught since day one are the hardest to deal with. I thought that they were young enough that they wouldn't really understand, but they do. They scrunch up their faces in total disgust when I tell them that they'll be meeting their new teacher on Monday. They frown and ask me if he's silly. Yesterday they said good-bye to their Korean teacher, Kristine- who, truth be told, none of the kids particularly liked. Kristine is a very sweet woman, but so afraid of losing control of the kids that she requires absolute order in the classroom. After her good-bye party, I stepped into the class to find the four of them- Mary, Sally, Jennifer and Jacob, sitting in complete silence. Jennifer was crying. We played a game and I hoped that they would quickly feel better, but as they left to go home I could see it hadn't helped. I told them Halloween was coming and we were going to have a party, but they looked at me and said it wouldn't be a happy day because it was my last. I fought back tears for the rest of the day and was relieved to make it home where I could contemplate the next ten days.

I've nearly burst into tears three separate times at school this week. You might remember that one of favourite kids, Ryan, lost his dad about six months back. On Monday, I was eating lunch with a group of kids and they were talking about their families. When it came to Ryan, he told the kids that he didn't have a dad, he had only a mom. The other kids, who weren't at the school when it happened, started to argue- saying everybody had a dad. Leah, Ryan's best friend- stepped in to correct them, and shut them up before I could. Ryan turned to me and told me that his dad was in the sky. I told him that my brother was there too- maybe they were together. He looked at me and asked how my brother got there- and I told him that he was sick. Ryan nodded and asked if he had too much soju. That's how his dad got to the sky, he said- he had too much soju and his face was red and he was very sick. I started tearing up- I hadn't known that. His mother had told the school that he had died in a car accident, but we didn't know the details. The next day, Ryan came to school with a note from his mom. The note thanked Reggie & I for being good teachers to her son and said that he had come home crying the day before because he knew that I was leaving and Reggie would soon follow. As Ryan said good-bye to Kristine yesterday- a teacher that never taught him and rarely spoke to him, he burst into tears. I held him as he cried and when he calmed down, asked him if he was alright. No, he answered, and turned away. Ryan is six.

Ryan looking scary

When I arrived here in Korea, I watched Shane (the teacher I replaced) burst into tears when he hugged the kids good-bye, and I told myself that there was no way that I would get that attached to them. But I did. I have spent six hours a days with these kids, five days a week for a whole year. I've spent more time with them than many of their fathers have. Some of my kids didn't know a word of English when I arrived and now speak fairly fluently. I've seen them go through different phases of growth- and noticed it. Jennifer went through a phase for a few months where she thought she was better than everyone. Sally went through a phase where she cried everyday for no reason. Jacob went through a very long temper tantrum phase. Mary hated me for the first month I taught her- but I've become her favourite teacher. Leah went from being a pretty cool kid- to being a mini-adult as she's helped Ryan through this year. Ryan has aged years in the past six months. Ryan asked me why I was leaving and I told him I have to go see my family, my friends and Fred. He told me Fred should just come to Korea. I told him that Fred is sick and he needs to be in Canada. So Ryan told me he was going to talk to Mr Choi about moving the school to Canada. My feelings about leaving are so mixed. I'm excited to take my trip through South East Asia, looking forward to my week in Calgary and I absolutely can't wait to see Fred. But I just wish I didn't have to say good-bye. I'm not looking forward to the next ten days. Tomorrow the new teacher will move in with me and begin to take over my life here. My pictures are off the walls and my bags are half packed. On Monday he'll meet my kids and part of me feels jealous that he gets to spend a year with them. I think of how weird it is to develop such a relationship with these kids, but still be totally replaceable. It's different from being a teacher in a regular school in Canada. The school year and the days are longer. I'm the first contact these kids have had with someone who is not Korean. And they recognize how special that is. The kids love the Korean teachers because they become like second mothers. They dote on them- help them in the bathroom, fix their hair, but they love the Canadian teachers because we become their friends. Strangely enough it was Jack- four years old, who pointed this out. I still get emails from Tom, a five year boy who left in March to go to a better school. I don't want to deal with the next ten days. I just want to wake up on November 1st and be on the plane to Thailand. I don't want to say good-bye.

My baby class- Daniel, Tim, Anne & Sarah (three years old).