It's a Wonderul Summer

When I was a kid, my family lived across the street from the little park in our little town, so we always got a front row seat to the humble fireworks display the city always staged every year from the small, man-made lake in the park.  My folks still live in that same house, near that same park, in fact.  Anyway, being so young, every single bright sparkler that lit up the dark summer sky was glorious, and was more than enough to commemorate Independence Day each and every summer, and christen it with joy and awe, each and every year.

When I got older, in college, I befriended a guy from Iran (of all places).  To this day, he's neither particularly religious or political and even if he were, I would still try to take him as he is; a good friend.  In any case, one long, hot summer, when I had nearly forgotten how magical the yearly fireworks display can really be, my foreign friend told me he had no one to watch the Fourth of July festivities with.

He said it would mean a lot if I accompanied him to watch the fireworks, so that evening, we sat, mostly in silence, on the grass near the big Mizzou stadium and just watched as every bright color and glittering formation decorated the crisp evening sky above.  After it was all over, misty eyed, he thanked me with an earnest smile, the likes of which I have scarcely seen before or since, while I naturally, just kept telling him it was nothing.  "No big deal."

But that's when I realized just how much of a big deal the Fourth of July really is.  Just how important it is to have friends and loved ones to witness the change of seasons and the special moments that come only once, every single year, of our all too brief lives.  And since then, I know, that just to be with, or to be there for someone, when it really counts... is truly enough.  More than enough.

And this year, I will miss the great American Fourth of July fireworks display once again.  Of course, fireworks were invented in China, so over here in South Korea, I do get to see them from time to time, but it's never quite the same, you see.  Anyway... rich or poor, famous or obscure, this year's anniversary of the founding of our great nation will never come again in quite the same way.  So this year, if you can, please, please find a nice place to maybe sit on the grass (or in a lawn chair) and look up and enjoy every single color and glittering light formation.

It's all, all too brief, and when it's over, it never happens again in quite the same way... until the next year rolls around and everyone you know, including yourself, is one more year older, and the life you knew over the past twelve months has changed in so many ways, great and small.  Anyway, Happy Fourth of July (or whatever summer holiday or tradition you hold dear) to everyone, everywhere.  And remember that if you have special people in your life, you'll always be among the richest and most famous of folks around.

"Remember that no man is a failure who has friends."  ~  It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

Tales of the "Strange" Contract

In the education environment, Asian language school bosses seem to prefer "foreign" (almost always European/American/Canadian type) teachers who are young, inexperienced and extremely compliant because of this. To be sure, it is much easier to control someone who doesn't know the ropes than it is to deal with someone with a little worldly experience who might just very well catch your minor mistakes and even, unfortunately, in many cases, much larger patterns of corporate ineptitude.

In any case, the rental agreement contract that clearly states what it states is now being called, "strange" and will, it appears, be ignored in favor of the status quo. This apparently saves the "face" of the folks that first drafted the "strange" contract, as well as the stubborn, caught with their pants thoroughly down folks in the administration office, who seem to prefer to fall back on the concept that the rental agreement is "strange," rather than to accept that a mistake in verbiage was perhaps made somewhere down the line.

Or... they simply didn't like the content of the original draft of the contract and quite arbitrarily decided to change it. In which case, it very quickly became "strange." Unfortunately however, they apparently didn't think it was necessary to redraft the contract to reflect their objections to it. And because of this oversight, quite naturally, what might otherwise be a minor communication problem has now become a larger bone of contention.

In fact, I really don't mind having to pay a small monthly "fee" (equalling roughly $30 US or slightly less, really) for maintenance fees on the furnished apartment provided by the school, but I would like them to at least admit the error and perhaps re-word the rental agreement for future reference. Instead, at this point, I am yet again being compared to the previous foreign teacher, whom, they seem to indicate, was much more compliant then I appear to be thus far.

Or perhaps they are just worried about nothing. Or I am. Either way, it's the usual tense situation in the English as a second language learning environment. However... it's usually only tense if you are not one of those select few whitey candidates who are young, inexperienced, compliant and naive enough to simply nod or bow and smile to every decision made for you, great or small, that comes down the pike.

And then there's the matter of being constantly compared to the previous American teacher. Other than our nationality, the previous person, thus far, seems to have had very little in common with me. In any case, she seems to have been the ideal candidate, while I am... somewhat... less, perhaps?

More later, on what makes me different from the individual who formerly inhabited my current position and perhaps... why it's really not fair at all to draw such comparisons in the first place.