Flower Village

For the past three days, I was blessed to have been visiting a place called "Kkhotongnae" or literally translated as Flower Village (http://www.flower-vill.com/). The place is Catholic in founding but does not openly proselytize or evangelize. Flower Village is home to many disabled, elderly, homeless, abandoned and orphaned people. I visited this place for three days and two nights with my middle school third graders. We participated in various tasks with the various inhabitants of Flower Village. We assisted in feeding, changing diapers, cleaning the floors, washing dishes, providing massages and back rubs and lending a listening ear. The hardest part was questioning why I was so lucky to be born "normal." Why others have to live with blindness, deafness and disease...

I'll share one very brief story of many other stories that I could share. My group and I were stationed at an elderly gentlmen's home. I saw one old man sweeping the hallways. From where I was standing, I could see that there was nothing for him to sweep. The floors looked spotless. I began to pity him a bit and thought that perhaps the work that we all do, is only most important to us. As he got closer, I could see that there were small particles of dust and other miscellaneous floor huggers that the old man was sweeping. Instantly, I realized that my cynical self could only see a bigger, broader, very impersonal picture. I didn't see the small work that he was putting in to the greater work of the facility itself. Needless to say, I was humbled, and made a mental note to become as un-jaded as possible.

The three days also provided a chance for me to get to know some of the other teachers. After the first night, we had a little "happy hour." Soju and plum wine a-plenty and merry school gossip to revel in. I learned juicy tidbits about some students and found that teenagers will always be teenagers. Middle school third grade in Korea is equivalent to freshmen in the states. The students were told not to bring alcohol or cigarettes but of course there were the rogue few. "Happy hour" on the second night was a more festive affair with beer, soju, fried chicken, dried squid, nuts and various other nighttime snacks. I finally spoke Korean to the relief of all. I felt like Tim Robbins as he emerged from the sewer in Shawshank Redemption. I was accepted with open arms and rounds of soju.

Koreans love them some dancing and singing. A closing ceremony was held on the second night with performances from all groups, as well as the teachers. We performed a dance we were taught in thirty minutes to an old Korean disco song. I've never danced so much before in my whole life as I have in the past two weeks. What is it like to go out in front of 700 screaming children and make a fool of yourself? Pretty darn good. You feel like a rockstar. I've never heard "I love you!" so much as I have in the past three weeks. I think it's because it's one of the few phrases that the students know and they love to throw it in my face and then run awaym giggling like little girls. I tell you, makes you feel like a rockstar.