Room 17101

Does anyone else find this strange? I recently stumbled upon this room in the same building where my office is located. The sign says "female student lounge", which I suppose isn't really all the unusual (until you open the door)...

To me, it seems a more fitting place for Elle Woods' dog, Bruiser, than it does for a bunch of Korean University students.

Yes, that's a real bathtub under the chandelier in the center of the room.

I've come to notice that it's generally a pretty popular and crowded place, but I snapped these photos early; just a little after 9am (presumably when most students are in class or still in bed).

The ondol floor heating is always cranked, making it stuffy and hard to breathe, and a colleague told me the primary purpose of the room is for the ladies to sit on the heated floor to relieve any discomfort they may experience during that 'special' time of the month.

Hmmph.

Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho…

It’s off to work I go! It’s the start of the spring semester and after a long hiatus I’m back to work full-time. Well, sort of full-time. I only have classes three days a week J

This semester, I’m teaching a total of 230 students. I have 8 classes, but we only meet once a week, so I’m worried that remembering names is going to prove quite a feat despite the seating charts I’ve devised.

It’s only been a week, but I’m already sounding like a broken record. Eight times last week, I took attendance. Eight times last week, I introduced myself. Eight times last week, I ran through the syllabus. Eight times last week, I….get the picture? It’s a hard life.

All of the students seem nice, and thankfully so, because with the exception of them and the fellow Canadian professor with whom I share an office, my existence is largely overlooked.  (And I might add that while we share an office, our schedules only overlap on one day of the week). Of 150 professors and 110 staff members, the only people who’ve spoken to me are the parking lot attendant, who tried to force me pay even though I have a parking permit; the coffee shop dude, who’s impressed with my ability to say: “hot choco juseyo” and claims I look like some mixed Korean celebrity; and the cafeteria lady, who wrongly accused me of not scanning my card properly.

Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s wonderful to be back at work teaching, and even more wonderful to have the luxury of a job that pays me year ‘round to put in just 96 days of work (more like 83 if taking national holidays into account) with minimal to no supervision.  I’m a happy camper!