20 weeks. That’s 140 days, which is 3,360 hours, otherwise known as 201,600 minutes. I cannot even count up to 140, let alone 201,600. The longest I have been away from home up to this point is 23 weeks for research last summer plus my fall semester, but that period had blips of reunion with my family thanks to proximity. But damn, I haven’t played with my siblings, hugged my mom, or worked with my dad in 2o weeks. I would be a liar if I said it doesn’t get to me sometimes. Nevertheless, I know where I am and I understand the fortune I was blessed with. I am not going to let go of my ambition now.

However, getting irked can be a predicament.

I admit I am not an expert on language learning (I’m mediocre with my mother tongue of Bengali, my high school French program was a joke, and I’m guilty of committing many a verbal faux pas with English). I do, however, think that I do know when a program is not good. In fact, I would consider myself an expert on that since I’ve dealt more with poor language than good language learning.

“So, why are you bringing this up?” I say you ask me. Well, when I was learning Korean at Yale, I was happy doing it. The program was not rout. I had some great friends in my class. The discussion was dynamic. The whole kit and caboodle made my day and made learning Korean even better. Albeit teaching the Korean language remains a fairly new concept compared to languages like Spanish and Chinese, I’m skeptical that they believe they’re teaching method is good. What scares me though is, according to my lab mate, the rout style of teaching they have in all these Korean language programs are also the same methods they use for Korean kids in school. Naturally, I am appalled.

Ironically enough, our Korean language instructor from Yale was hoping to hear some feedback on the program this week since all the gap-year fellows are at Korea University. Let’s just say the email chain was pretty fiery.

Collectively, I think we pulled out key flaws in the program, which could be said more or less of the other major language program offerings around Seoul:

The teaching is very rout. We go through every chapter of the textbook, the same way, over and over. No wonder, the Korean that ends up being produced sounds like a broken record. The teacher actually commented that the class overall did very poorly on the writing portion of our exam. The only feasible reaction I could have: “You think?!” I cannot imagine possibly become better in my writing for Korean when they don’t even teach us how to write. Instead, we just repeat textbook exercises, read passages, and are requested to replicate the passages, mimic their structure, and essentially sound like a watered-down version of each other. I am not a child that’s learning how to think and speak and communicate for the first time. Unfortunately, the program itself thinks one’s writing can naturally improve as such.

Disgusting.

There are few other words I could use to describe the teaching here. I don’t want to go so far to say they don’t care, but let’s just look at some key features of the situation. First off, the amount one needs to pay for one quarter of language study at any of these programs is a gross injustice because based on the sheer number of students coming in, I know most of the money coming in is pocketed as profit since paying these “teachers” is not costly for them and there is not really any return to language students. They maintain their teaching practices without any real preparation for their exams. Once faced with the exam, unsurprisingly, it is absurdly difficult. Apparently, there is also no impetus to improve the non-existent class dynamic. I might as well meditate for the four hours, at least then, I would feel productive every day because these teachers expect me to do their job for them every day outside of class so I can prove to them I am improving my Korean in the way they view as proper improvement.

Additionally, yes, the students themselves can also be culpable of blame. Many of these students come from backgrounds were the only method of “learning” is memorizing. But I know that all of these students are not machines that can load the language like that. Many of them also see problems with the language instruction but don’t know how to broach the subject.

I have brought these issues up with both the KU office and the Light office so hopefully, there can be some actual change. Otherwise, I may have to say “Sayonara!” to these programs.

And the irony of my life continues as probably one of the nicest things about KU followed the midterm: 고연전 (Korea-Yonsei Games).

The games started in 1965 and consisted of baseball, basketball, ice hockey, rugby, and soccer. Similar to Harvard-Yale, this is an entire weekend engagement, but there is way more going on for 고연전. Outside of all the sports, there are night long festivities going on both campuses but it seemed that festivities were focused on Yonsei’s neighborhood the first night, and KU’s the second. Along with all the festivities are boat-loads of free food given out by the local shop-owners for both university groups.

So baseball isn’t my thing but it’s nice to see the see of crimson vs blue all over again. What a strange feeling to be on the other side. But like even if you aren’t into the sports, everyone is into the 응원 (cheering). I would say the game is 50/50 on sports and cheering. Cheering is led by the club but is done by the entire audience. Fight songs, taunt, and dance moves galore, the cheering works you out so you end up sweating just as much as your team. Absurd amounts of fun.

Since both schools are bigger than both Harvard and Yale, these schools don’t have the sporting events occur on their own turf but at Jamsil Olympic Park in Gangnam. WHAT! With just near 40,000 students per school alone, when you add in alumni, faculty, and fanboys, no surprise they need large complexes to hold the events.

Not to call out Yonsei, but I’m going to call out Yonsei–since the start of the game, KU’s side was beyond occupied while one could see the gaps within the Yonsei stands. Yonsei managed to get a triple at the top of the 4th and I thought that would keep them in their seats for the entirety of the game, but once KU had back to back doubles at the bottom of the 5th and 6th, the Yonsei stands grew sparser and sparser. I would also definitely say the KU halftime broadcast killed the Yonsei one both in starpower and humor. But after a homer by KU’s own 사공엽 (Sa Kong-Yeob), KU’s dominance was evident and the crowd went wild as we danced with strangers.

As an added bonus, KU won all five games this year. A clean sweep against Yonsei for my own and only 고연전…

Nice!