Contractual Obligations

I knew what I was getting myself into.  To a certain degree.  My contract with the Yeongju Education Board contained the obligatory fine print…

Article IX

The Employee will submit his or herself to no less than

fifteen (15) awkward moments per semester.  These moments

will be provided by the school in which the Employee is assigned.

If less than the required minimum awkwardness is experienced,

the Employee shall forfeit the appropriate number of allotted

paid vacation days to offset the above requirement at a rate

of one (1) paid vacation day per three (3) unused awkward

moments.

I really can’t complain.  I had it in writing.  These kinds of things were bound to happen. 

Ralph, which is the English name I gave him, is the Special Education teacher at my school.  He is the kind of guy that would give you the shirt off his back.  Gentle.  Soft spoken.  Genuinely concerned for your well-being.  Ralph has helped us in many ways since we arrived in Yeongju.  Like the time I casually mentioned that I wanted a used bicycle to peddle around town and the countryside.  Ralph sought out every used bike store in town and offered to take me there to make sure I got a good deal.  Or like the time he retrieved the zip lock sandwich bags from the front of the bus so I could vomit in them on the way back from Seoul.  He’s just an all-around good guy. 

Because of Winter break, I haven’t seen Ralph since the week before Christmas.  During the break when Jessica and I had lunch with my co-teacher Susie, I commented in passing “I miss Ralph.  I wonder what he’s up to.”  Just casual conversation.

Monday morning arrives.  School is back in session.  The teachers are gathered in the office sharing coffee, tea, and a strawberry flavored breakfast bread.  As we walk to the office Susie is very giddy.  “Ralph is here!” 

“Oh ok,” I reply, wondering why she’s so excited.

I’m now standing in the office sipping my small paper cup of instant coffee.  Ralph appears at the door.  The group of teachers between us part down the middle and everyone falls silent.  Smiles all around.  Susie, still giddy, points and says “there he is!  I told him you missed him.”  Ralph looks equally as giddy.

The scene was like something out of a movie, where lovers separated by war and thousands of miles are finally reunited.  Ralph walks toward me, everyone staring.  He puts out both hands.  Is he trying to hug me?  The awkwardness is almost unbearable, but it is finally pushed over the edge when Sophy, my other co-teacher, says “hug.  Hug him.”  No smile.  Serious.  “Ummm…we’ll hug later.”

Maybe this is just part of the culture.

I tried to defuse the situation by asking a lot of questions.  How was your vacation?  What did you do?  Did you go home for the New Year?  Eventually everyone resumed their conversations and mingled away.

I’m sure my face was blood red.  But at least I get to keep my vacation days.