I had planned to do some more photocopying on campus then take public transit from campus to a department store. I am running out of toilet paper and the only brand of it that I want to buy is sold at this one particular department store. The plan got stymied for two reasons.
One reason is that another monsoon hit. I have been stuck on campus. Drainage is so bad and the downpour so bad that large pools of water are gathering on the campus grounds. To go between buildings today, I resorted to rolling up my pant legs and going barefoot. That option was better than getting my shoes and feet totally soaked. It was better to be able to put dry socks and shoes back on. Actually, I do have extra shoes and socks in my office, but my other pair of shoes would have gotten soaked nonetheless, even two pairs if I wore two pairs in the puddles. I guess I'll do that again when I leave: that is, I plan to remove my shoes, roll up my pant legs and go barefoot as far as the elevator from where I can get down to the covered garage and wait for the community shuttle bus to take me home. That way, I'll get wet feet only on the last stretch before getting into my apartment building.
Another reason for failing to carry out my original plan is that I learned that there is a deadline today to enter my graduate course syllabus. I ran into the TESOL graduate studies director, B, who fortunately informed me with a few hours to spare. I eventually made it back to my office, going barefoot as I told you above, and did the syllabus input in good time. Because it has been a few weeks since I last worked on this course planning, I had forgotten where I left off, so it took a while to sort things out. It is done now.
More teachers are climbing out of the cracks and holes to surface because regular classes begin in about a week and a half. In my guy-dominated world, though, the guys don't notice me much, but they do make a conscious effort at some limited chit-chat. I get that they may feel guilty or obligated. Sometimes their comments are superficial, still, or they don't hear me and I must repeat my words. My boss who works across the hall from my office was around today. I was in the hallway when he went to the door preparing to leave for the day. I thought he was holding back and trying to avoid interaction with me, this man who bought me lunch only two-and-a-half or three weeks ago! I was using the waste bins, and returned to my office door and was opening my door when he opened his. I said hello, and made a remark about the abundance of rain today, to which he made a barely an answer and kind of laughed self-consciously. I am used to his shy and odd behavior. It is like that with many of the Korean profs.
I pay no heed for I have my own goals, activities and rhythm. I carry on.
I have been looking at the webpage for the Peace Poetathon in Vancouver. It’s an annual event and it seems to be growing. That’s where I submitted my last two poetic creations. I finally registered even though I won’t be there, but I am contemplating inviting poets and readers to meet in Busan to read poems for peace. That is to say that I would make a small parallel event in Busan to coincide with the events in Vancouver in October. We’ll see.