Honesty in Hakwons

The Jinghae school is still hounding me. I cannot imagine why. Today, I sent a brief email, taking the opening she offered on Saturday:

"I am so sorry but I do not have an international drivers license. I sincerely regret missing this opportunity." Yes. I sincerely regret missing this opportunity. Sincerely. Really.
Another interview was had today in Ori, down near Bundang. Ori is an American-style exurb of Seoul, replete with cheesy shopping malls, theme restaurants and endless rows of identical-looking, numbered skyscrapers which made me flash back to Guangzhou where the numbers were all in Chinese and I, never any good with directions, played a fun game called "let's get lost in city of 15 million today." (See the pic above for a taster.)
After taking my sweet time getting lost and finding myself still in Korea, I met up with Joyce. Joyce was born in Korea and raised in Georgia. A maschoist, she packed her bags for South Carolina and got a college degree there. (Yes! Some private school owners do have college degrees.) She was properly apologetic for being a hakwon owner, quite likely the slimiest occupation available, and similar to what is practiced by the not-so-fetching Russian ladies on Seoul's aptly named Hooker Hill. She had bluntly stated that opening a hakwon was her way of getting out of being a public school teacher for life. Here, she could finally be the boss. Just not the boss of me. She is a sweet lady really. Drop by sometime and say hi.

Saturday I was in west Seoul, interviewing for a public school gig in Ansan. I am about 90% sure that I have the job as the fella wanted to put his grubby lil hands on my diploma ASAP. (My uni diploma needs to be sent to Korean immigration so that they can give me a visa.) Having spent all of January and much of February pleading with Ivy Chun San to get my diploma back, I wasn't going to lose it again. No sir. I'll have to go to the American embassy to get a notarized copy for twenty bucks. Also need my transcripts which I hope will be emailed to me from my proud alumni,
Memphis State . Let's hope I get it. Teaching 6 45 minute classes a day with a maximum of 10 students per class. It's not quite a university job but, like a hundred dead lawyers at the bottom of the sea, it's still a good start.