Back in Ireland, Back in Line


It is November now, and after almost five months back in Ireland I am beginning to see what drives people to be so committed and set such high expectations. A new sense of value has permeated everyone, not just in their commercial sense, but in every sense. It’s is no longer what will you do, more what can you not do and how is it going to affect me? As a person who is returning to Ireland it seems that I have left out this consideration, and have become wrapped up in wide eyed notions of what’d I’d like to do if it’s possible, please. Somewhere along the line this will have to change.

Since September my triumphant return to little old Ireland has been suffering a series of, how do I put it without sounding too alarmist, hiccups. In fairness, myself and Herself knew it would be far from perfect, and we knew we’d have to struggle through this period, and it is well that I had the foresight to recognise this in advance of our arrival. Still, it has been increasingly disappointing.

Besides everything else all I really want now is a full time job. When I came back from Korea I was fortunate enough to land right in the middle of the high season for ESL teaching in Dublin. This is a period in the summer when literally thousands of language students converge on the capital and start to study English. They range from the age of 12 and up, and by up I mean into people’s sixties and beyond. Unfortunately the majority of these people have to go back to work or school come the end of August, and so the work dries up.

It’s not all doom and gloom as there are occasional jobs here and there, but because the teaching work in ESL in Ireland is strictly based on demand it does mean that at this time of year there are a lot more teachers seeking hours than there are classes available. It’s a feature of the business I wasn’t so aware of when I returned to Ireland, but it’s not something I can complain about as I should have expected it. Long story short: this is the rut I’m stuck in.

Rut softened by nice walks along the canal

I’ve been very fortunate since getting back to Ireland to have my fair share of support and advice from friends and former colleagues, but at the same time it still does not seem to be enough. I can’t begrudge anyone as it is me who is the person that must meet the standard, not come here expecting some standard to be available for me.

I was pretty confident though that my work in Korea over the past four and a half years would carry some weight in Ireland. And by this I mean some weight outside of the classroom. While I suppose that you could argue that the economy has seen a change for the better and there are more jobs available, there is still a huge amount of competition out there. This is especially the case when you see that there is one particular job every week fitting the particularly criteria I’m setting myself. It’s times like this I wish I worked in IT.

As I bury my head in my computer screen worrying over the state of my application, I know that there is someone with more relevant experience than me. Sure I can type out my skills and explain how I utilised them for blah blah blah but in the back of my mind I know that there is someone who did exactly the same thing or exactly what the job is looking for. Tell me to have confidence all you want, but this is certainly something every job seeker struggles with.

For one thing I want to stay in education. However another part of me says to forget about it and go and do something else, something that pays better, and something that won’t have you crucifying yourself waiting for one new posting a week. I could easily do this. Just take a step down from what I expect of myself, which is probably too high in the first place, and then in a few years take the step up to a better paying position.

The rewards of education.

This would be the cheap way out. I’ve worked in education for over eight years, admittedly most of this is in Korea which is on the other side of the planet. But it’s my job, and it is where my skills and knowledge lie. I know how students and teachers think and work, and I know that I can apply this to a role here beyond satisfactorily. As well as that I have all these other personality traits which seem to come as part of every job position advertised.

If anything, I have hoped that I could start from where I left off in Korea. I mean this in terms of salary at least. When you do a currency exchange you’ll find it’s not that huge a salary in terms of Ireland, and Korea it has to be said, but it is somewhere to start from. I believe I’m worth this much at least, and I hope that I can return to this level. As I said, I hope.

Last February I was accepted into a Doctor of Education course in the University of Glasgow. When I found out this news I was ecstatic. I had worked hard to be accepted into what I believed was beyond my retention. The thing is, I deferred the course until next year because I knew I was moving back here and I knew that it would be hard to settle into work here and to study at the same time. I wanted to settle in with work comfortably, or at least be comfortable with the work situation here before I dived into doctoral study. I believe this was the right decision.

This is another significant reason why I want to stay in education. I’m making a commitment which I believe could be significant to my future, so I need to stay involved. I can’t work in a call centre and try and get an EdD. What’s the point? It’s a complete waste of my time, regardless of whether or not I hope to return to education in the future.

One way of looking at the classroom.

All this being said, I’m looking to get beyond the classroom. I think that this may be where my problems lie, in that I have circumstantial evidence of an appropriate level of skill for an actual educational leadership or management position. There just isn’t enough stability, or indeed pay, to support a growing family as an English language teacher in Ireland. Couple to this that I’m not qualified to teach in secondary or primary schools in Ireland, that’s considering that I even want to do this.

That’s one side of me. There is another perspective, and one which I am equally torn against. I want to write. I want to write so that I get paid. If I could write enough so that the pay could afford me and my family a living then that would be equally fantastic. I have known for years that the best way to go out and find writing work is to go out and ask. It’s that simple (although the format that ask in is a little bit more complicated). What is less complicated though is my reason for not trying. That reason is I’m absolutely terrified.

Regular readers and friends will assert that this is nonsense and that I have nothing to fear but fear itself. I wish it was ever so easy. I don’t think of myself as competitive, nor do I think of myself as someone or something marketable. I just think of myself as who I am, an early thirties former Korea-based ESL teacher from Ireland. When I say it to myself like that I suppose I can expect little else but the just dessert I’m lauding.

I will argue to myself and myself only that it is perfectly natural to be afraid of fear and rejection. It is, trust me, but at what point does this attitude become ridiculous to the point that you start letting yourself down? And what about when I start letting other people down?

Tomorrow is another day.

I sit now and look back over the eight years I spent in Korea, and of all the things I claimed to have achieved. I look to how I can translate my experience into something worthwhile which communicates the character I wish to put myself across as. I look at the same time and can’t help but feel the effects of karma rubbing off me after fleeing Ireland in 2010 when the dole queues were at their longest. I think of what a great job I had but of how completely untranslatable it all feels now because of distance, because of situation, and because of the fact that I am no longer a one-of-a-kind, the way I used to think of myself.

Letter from Korea, June 2014.


Jumunjin, Korea
June  23, 2014

Dear Ireland,

If you’re not already aware I’ll be leaving in about a week. I know I’m going on about it a fair bit, but it is what I’ve been building up to for quite a while and it feels appropriate to me to talk about it a lot. Right now, in terms of being in Korea, it doesn’t feel like there is much else I should be talking about. One thing though that I’d like to make clear though is my intentions.

Never at any point have I turned around and said I have to get out of Korea for some abhorrent reason, like the usual tripe you hear about the inadequacies of Korea, Koreans, or indeed the inadequacies of those who cannot accept that this is a very different country to the one which they were raised in. I could go on here, but I won’t.

Over the past four and a half years Korea has presented me unlimited opportunities to not only excel professionally, but also personally. What matters to me most now is that I did my best to respond to each opportunity. Master Yoda’s message has always been in the back of my mind ringing strong, ‘do, or do no, there is no try’.

As an adult I think it’s important to know what you want to do in life. Even if this is the wrong decision, knowing your direction makes developing a lot easier. In Korea I have been granted many opportunities, including business, education, journalism, and I have tried to see them through to realise their potential, or has more often been the case, their suitability to me. I’ve worked on the plans, built my image, and connected with important decision makers in all of those fields. In the long run however, I did not have the heart for whatever it was that I was doing. For me this was an incentive to seek different paths.

It may be that success was not immediate and I just needed to try harder. Passion, however, was lacking and the incentives in the long run were even hard to assess. I could not even tell the length of the run I was expecting to undertake. It is important to know the disntance of any race, or indeed the height of the hill you are attempting to climb.

I’m not without my commitment to other areas in my life. I believe it is important to be prepared for everything that life presents to you, but it is equally important to know as many clichés as possible when you choose to back down from a challenge, and I will let you devise them here. You can draw comparisons if the clichés aren’t strong enough for you to understand my point, all I will say for now on this is that some things were not meant to be.

Korea has changed my mentality on so many fronts, not just how I approach challenges but also how I prepare myself. To take every opportunity we are presented is not possible, and to rely on the patience brought about by previous failures is something that probably doesn’t sound too encouraging when you set out. Again, I look to another master for guidance, this time an Irish one:

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.”*

 
(*I am sorry, I’ve seen several versions of this, but never once have I seen it accredited its exact location in the canon. Regardless the message rings true. And of course, this is Samuel Beckett)

This July I shall be reacting to another failure of mine. The change from Ireland to Korea was always with an open mind and an aspiration to change again in the future. The future has now arrived and while life has been good in Korea, the ladder upward has been flimsy and without a top in sight. Maybe ladders of life do not need tops, but they should at least have milestones, and by milestones I suppose I mean realisable goals.

Since I began teaching in Korea I have always progressed a step at a time. I can realistically chart my progress contract by contract, while always looking to the next stage, but now there appear to be no more rungs. There are options of course, and the position I had teaching academic English language skills in a leading Korean university had many options, many at the grace and mercy of the almost five months of holidays a year, and the limited class contact hours. Perhaps some have always wondered why I managed to maintain such an active online lifestyle, well now you know.

There is plenty to be done with this time of course, and I know many who use this position or one like it as a base for them to find more work teaching office workers or in homes and the likes. I’ve done all this, and I believe I was a good teacher with a decent reputation. Yet the lack of security and the reliance, invariably, on apathetic and often clueless recruiters on temp contracts charged with the responsibility of placing teachers is an experience I can do without in my work life. Added to this, at the best of times work is only available from 7am to 9am, or from 6pm until 7pm or sometimes 8pm. Students, are tired, bored, and overworked. The dynamic in the classroom is as you might expect, tiring, boring, and far too much work for the teacher.

I think that I’m coming across as scathing here, but I’d like to reassure you that for many these options are fine, and I can see why. What helps is a strong commitment, and also close access to the positions which offer these times. Yeongtong, where I lived for the majority of that time, was limited to the occasional vacancy in one of the several colossal Samsung plants that are close, and a scattering of other jobs. Quality positions were few and far between.

So this is the work life I am leaving. I will say little of the future I am traveling towards. Maybe I’ll save that for a later letter. What I can say is I’m leaving it for uncertainty and a smaller pay cheque. I worry a lot that my shrinking of income and free time will make me regret my decision to leave Korea. As a family we are committed, and I don’t doubt the summer will be fantastic, but as the winter settles in I worry. I think more and more now over the coming days how much I’m going to miss Korea. At this point I will also say I’m a little scared.

I know that we will be back to Korea to visit, but I hope that it does not turn out that we return with our tails between our legs again in a few years time. My attitude will have to change of course if I want to come back with my head held high. I hope that I am prepared for this challenge.

This Could Be (one of) the Last Time(s)


The fact that I live an apartment on the twentieth floor is not news to this blog. This high position allows for a fine, if not a little post-apocalyptic at times, view of Suwon on all but the most weather beaten of days. I have grown fond of taking photographs of the many perspectives this home of ours provides. There aren’t many opportunities left for me to do this. 20140606-193730.jpg After four and a half years here in Korea, which is essentially the whole life cycle of this blog, we are returning to Ireland to live. 20140606-193754.jpg Things you need to know: This is an indefinite move. We really aren’t sure where we will eventually settle down. 20140606-193806.jpg We will never leave Korea forever. We will be back. This is a certainty. Just don’t ask me when. It’s going to be a crazy change, and we are excited, terrified, happy, and of course sad to be making such a move. This is a life changer. 20140606-193825.jpg Before we came back to Korea in 2010 we moved country four times in a year and a half. We’ve enjoyed the stability. I’ve really enjoyed writing here about life in Korea, and I know many of my regular readers are here for my writing about Korea. I hope that you will join me as I document life in Ireland, when I find a minute to spare (of course). 20140606-193840.jpg So that’s my big news, in case you’ve been wondering. So with that in mind, here’s a song.

…And a post-apocalyptic-ish sunset

20140606-194035.jpg

 

P.S. I hate packing/moving country almost as much as I hate K-pop. It’s going to be a blast!

Letter from Korea, October 2013


Suwon, Korea
Ocotober, 2013

Dear Ireland,

It has been well over a month since myself, Herself, and +1 have been back in Korea, and what I expected would be my September letter got left by the wayside and is only being seen to now in October. You know you’ll get the usual excuses for not doing anything which isn’t vital to one’s survival, such as being busy with things which are vital to one’s own survival.

After two and a bit months in Ireland, returning to Korea for life, work, and more life, was less the shock we had thought it might be. A smaller home, no garden, no dog, less rain, and that view from all the way up at the top of our tower just seemed to be what was right at the time. There seems to be less culture shock the more we travel between Ireland and Korea.

Update: Some photos from the last month and a bit back in Korea

When we first came back to Ireland we walked around in a half-daze finding it hard to comprehend that the last time we were here was almost two years beforehand. Yes, we had been back briefly in April for a funeral, but this was different. With the funeral we knew that we only had so much time and that we would be busy, obviously, and the week passed quicker than we knew it before we were back in Korea.

Two months is in many respects a long time, but you know it’s never long enough some times. Every time I seem to go home I seem to leave everything I want to do until the last two weeks of my time. This includes meeting friends, going into Dublin, and a whole list of other things. Maybe because I just feel comfortable up to that point until when I realise that it’s all going to be miles away in a mere matter of days.

This August though, we returned relatively scar free to Korea and returned to the regular humdrum. It’s a humdrum though that exists for everyone after their holiday, regardless of where they were or how long they were away for. Maybe we’re getting better at it, and maybe we’re becoming more aware of what it is we should be doing and when we should be doing it. In this case, it’s getting on with our day in the middle of all the other days.

We go to work, we go shopping, we take +1 out for walks and to her little classes, we meet friends, we go for dinner, and on occasion I get a little drunk. We complain about the weather and things that aren’t working properly in our apartment, we say hello to neighbours we recognise and wonder why others still don’t pay any attention to us even though we’re living here three years. The sunsets continue to decorate that sky to the right when I look out the window around six or seven every night, and always we see our little daughter growing stronger and more mobile to the point that we are often lost for words. This is just a snapshot of everything that occupies us, and I believe we all have our comparisons tidied away somewhere.

At the back of all this foreground lies our future. We could not continue to move forward without knowing what lies there. We have been fortunate enough to be given the many opportunities presented to us, and we know each moment presents opportunity. Korea for all the things it is not is definitely a boiling pot of opportunity, you just have to fight harder to make the most if it. The life I have delved, almost accidentally it seems sometimes, has brought a mightly stew of changes in my life, and my family’s life. Opportunities have been taken and missed, but regrets are something we seem to have few of.

On the east coast of Korea in a small town called Jeongdongjin, right on the coast and just south of Gangnueng, you can see this happening but you need to wait around for a while.

Right beside the broad white beach is a small urban park, and the centre piece is a rather large cylindrical egg-timer. Yes, an egg-timer as I know it as, that drops grain after grain through a tiny hole bit by bit counting down until the end of the year, until it rolls over and starts again.

We never see a grain dropping and we would need to spend the entire year to see the results of this ever gradual change. But like most who see the change, we come and and we go and we see it at different stages of progression.

In the future we know that by sitting here and watching everything reverberate and rotate balancing on its fulcrum, we know that things change with every minute. From full to empty and half-full again, it is worth taking a step back and realising that we never see progress as it happens, only once it has passed.

We don’t need anniversaries or milestones really to see this, just the patience to allow each grain of sand to pass through the hole and for the mound of white sand grow and grow until we have our own little mountain.