Sauerkraut and arsenic sauce

There is relief in the air (polluted though it is here in Korea). Yes, relief. The Christmas festival at Boston Campus is over. My kids were full of vim and vigor as they took their turn on the stage.

To bring you up-to-date: Every year, Boston Campus hosts a Christmas festival. This festival is of terrible importance, both to the school and to our kids' parents. Stress is a disease, more common than a cold (which is pretty damn common when working with children), during this stretch of a month leading up to the actually concert date. We practice every day, sometimes several times a day: Songs, scripts, dances!

My class, which is the oldest and smartest of the kindergarten classes, was doing the most difficult production of the bunch: The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. It was a long script, interspersed with a couple song-and-dance numbers. When initially told about this event, I was worried that we wouldn't be able to pull it off. When we started the whole shebang finally, things started to get better. The kids learned the script fast, within a couple weeks, leaving only the songs -- and those dances that I had to choreograph -- to memorize.

It took work, and determination, and when the day came full, we put on our suits (not me, obviously) and trekked onto the stage to perform. Beyond the heavy and hot lights of the ellipsoidals glaring down upon the kids, the parents stared anxiously, beaming with pride whenever their child recited his or her line perfectly.

Overall, the production went smoothly. Thomas, bless his lingering baby fat, froze once and completely forgot his line. But Erin ventured up to him and reminded him. After that, it was near perfection. The kids did have a little trouble with the songs, which were complex (yes, if you were 5, you too would have difficulty memorizing a line like the following: "Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable"), and having to dance at the same time didn't always make it easier. But they pulled it off well, and at the end were met with polite applause (thunderous applause from their own parents, of course). I hopped onto the stage then and, together with my kids, took a bow before leading them off at stage left.

All the hoopla was followed with a cordial ceremony afterwards, wherein the children got changed backstage while the foreign teachers like myself were introduced to everyone. We even received bouquets -- yes, bouquets! -- from some of the parents. It was quite a nice moment. There was chatting afterwards with the more fluent parents, many flashbulbs, and a fond faretheewell. The day had ended early, with a nice layover until the post-kindergarten classes began at 2:30.

I donned my jacket and headed out into the brisk cold. I got a bite to eat before proceeding to walk home -- with a bouquet of flowers in my left hand, of course. (I pondered whether I should've just walked up to a beautiful Korean woman and said, "These are for you, love" and then walked away.) When I got home, I sat listlessly and exhaustedly in my chair. I took a nap then. And an hour later I woke up and went back to work.