SMOE's teacher hiring chaos

A lot of native English teachers are already aware of the 100 people that were told by SMOE that they no longer had a job with them -- AFTER they signed the contract, AFTER they got their visas, and 24 HOURS before their (non-refundable) flight to Seoul.

Well, from the same author as that blog link comes the best editorial about the issue I've read so far; it appeared in the Korea Herald today. It's quite a good read, and hits the nail on the head. It really does make me feel lucky that I wasn't one of the 100 who lost their jobs at the last minute (although since I was officially with EPIK and not SMOE, it was possible that they could've just placed me elsewhere in the country if this actually happened to me).

But I really do feel for the 100 who did get dropped. I was actually already in contact with someone on the same boat as me (recruited by EPIK and transferred to SMOE) and we were talking about how we were finally going to meet each other in person -- and then SMOE informed him that they weren't hiring him after all.

Luckily, he wasn't one of the poor guys who were told 24 hours before the flight (he was told about a week before, I think), but the way it all unraveled is pretty scary. Because of that, I did not relax when I got my NOA. Nor did I relax when I stepped foot at Incheon International Airport. Nor did I relax when I was waiting for the shuttle bus to orientation. I relaxed a little at the orientation venue, but not completely. I didn't completely relax until I finally had some alone time in my new apartment (mostly due to the Dongdaemun Stadium co-op worries).

Welcome to Korea. Come for the job, stay for the mind games. Hopefully this is a one-time thing, but prepare yourself in case it isn't.

The stages of dawning

Well... the teachers' orientation is over and now I'm at my new place in central Seoul (which I mean in the literal sense -- I'm in the geographical center of the city). After settling in and sitting down to the quiet of an apartment by myself, it finally dawned on me that I'm finally here and this is the real stuff.

Strangely enough, it isn't the first time that it's dawned on me. Nor is it the second time. Or the third. It seems that like grieving, there are always stages. Unlike the stages of grieving, I don't know how to characterize the stages of "dawning," exactly.

The first time that it dawned on me that this is the real thing came when I picked up my E-2 visa from the South Korean consulate in downtown Vancouver. Holding the passport with a newly-minted visa in my hand was my first realization that I was really leaving. I was so used to seeing nothing but US Homeland Security stamps in my passport (from the back-and-forth between Vancouver and California or Washington state) that a big honking visa seemed quite odd.

The second dawning came right before I left. I was all packed and was doing one last checkover to make sure I didn't leave anything behind. I was satisfied. I turned around, and my dog was sitting there in the doorway. I went down to pet him and give him a little hug. He's normally not a nice dog (quite a snooty dog, actually) but at that moment, he looked up at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen from him. He's 15 years old, so that's saying a lot. I broke down right there and then, and just hugged him and had a nice cry/bawl for a few minutes. He normally doesn't let people hug him at all, but he actually let me hug him for the first time in his life; he just let me hug him and cry for a while. I actually still cry a bit thinking about it (like right now as I type this). That was the second time that it dawned on me that I was leaving a lot behind, and probably remains the strongest among my "stages of dawning." It's currently one of the two things (that's NOT from a movie) that can make me cry every time -- the other thing is memories of the Anaheim Ducks' Stanley Cup championship win.

The third time probably came during my stay at a hotel in nearby Incheon, where Seoul's airport is located. Just walking about and seeing everything written in Korean was quite a jolting shift, and the day trip to central Seoul was a further shock. Just seeing that made me realize that I'm in a new world now.

And yesterday was probably the fourth dawning. After seeing people I got to know during orientation get shipped off one by one to their respective schools and apartments, it finally dawned on me that we're all leaving the safe English-speaking confines of the orientation venue and heading out into the non-English speaking world. It was quite a scary feeling but not unprecedented; I guess the orientation reduced some of the scariness but it's impossible for it to remove ALL the scariness.

And now here I am, using a combo of a security-enabled network and my old VPN connection from my alma mater (which is still working) to access the internet, which will be installed later. I'm not sure whether this stage of dawning has ended yet... I guess we'll see. And I'm sure there might be another stage of dawning during my first day of actual teaching.

Tomorrow is my first day at work, although it'll mostly be prep work. If I have time, I'll write an entry about the school and the living quarters.

Settling in (sort of)...

I'm now out of the hotel and at the training and orientation venue in Jongno-gu in central Seoul. It's nice to finally have a place to settle down (the hotel in Incheon doesn't count). It's also nice to have English spoken around me that doesn't come from a TV, haha.

A lot of other people just arrived and want to check out the area. I've already been here for two days, so I'm one of the few who opted to stay in tonight instead. I think I've seen enough to satisfy me for the time being.

My roommate is a guy from Ireland, who I was coincidentally chatting with at Incheon International Airport prior to boarding the shuttle bus, so we were already acquainted. He previously worked for a hagwon (private tutoring center) in Jeju and this is his first time with the public school system, so he's done this before.

Anyways, I'm finally going to settle down for a while and enjoy the temporary (but more permanent than before) stability in location.

Well, here I go...

My plane leaves in less than 11 hours. It's hard to believe that in less than two days, I will be on my own in a odd mystery land called "Daehan minguk." It's kind of surreal at this point, and scary. I don't even know if it's sunk in yet; it feels like it has but I think there's still a bit more sinking to go.

It won't be a "jump in right away" kind of deal. During my plane ticket preparations, I was preparing to arrive for the EPIK orientation but apparently there's a difference between the EPIK orientation and the EPIK-Seoul orientation (which I'm part of). The latter starts a day later, so I will have a day to kill; during that time, I'll be rooming in a hotel in Incheon, which is the city west of Seoul and home to Seoul's airport.

And even then, I still don't "jump in right away" because I have a layover in Shanghai before arriving in Incheon. I heard that Blogger is blocked over there and that my purchase of a domain name (and use of Photobucket instead of Picasa for my blog pics) successfully circumvented the Great Firewall of China. However, posting is still under Blogger.com so I'll have to find another way around it. Fortunately, my VPL account at my alma mater still seems to be functional. I'll see if I can get around the Firewall that way.

Well. Here goes nothing. And quite frankly, if nothing out of the ordinary happens for the next while (Kim Jong Il not invading would be a huge help), I'd be completely happy. Better than something going horribly wrong...

What have I gotten myself into?

Well. I'm 10 days away from lifting off from the familiar comforts of Vancouver, entering the temporary comforts of Shanghai's airport and starting my year-long trek in the unfamiliar comforts of Seoul.

I received my NOA and, along with it, submitted my visa application on Wednesday. The visa should be ready for me by this coming Thursday. The NOA is pretty much confirmation that you've been hired to work as a foreign English teacher in South Korea and the one document that completes the visa process. This is pretty much the finishing touch on the long and complex monster that is international bureaucracy.

Which brings me to one thought -- what have I gotten myself into?

Above: The flags of Canada and South Korea side by side outside the South Korean consulate on West Georgia Street in downtown Vancouver.

Just a few months ago, in February, I was contemplating my life after graduating from university. I was already considering going into teaching (well... tutoring, at least) in some of those after-school learning centers. I mean, why not? It would be a good first job in the "real world" and would give me an idea of whether or not I want to pursue teaching as a profession.

And then the economy spiralled downhill and the jobs dried up.

Maybe that was a bit too over-dramatic, but suddenly a lot of those jobs were snatched up (no surprise) at the same time as everyone stopped hiring and started cutting back everything -- budgets, spending, etc. Canada, which was priding itself in how it has managed to dodge the recession bullet so far, has finally been hit. Man down!

Obviously, I started worrying. And then at the university, there was a career fair-like thing where employers are searching for university graduates or students who want to work starting this summer. Among them was EPIK.

While I had my eye on several other employers, there was a problem with a lot of them. Either I wasn't qualified (such as for jobs in accounting or financial institutions) or the jobs were short-term and temporary (such as summer camp jobs or jobs with NBC for the 2010 Winter Olympics here in Vancouver).

EPIK caught my eye but it wasn't because of something special they did, but it was because it was for a job that I would be at least half-qualified for (as an English major) and also because Korea has fascinated me since high school, especially the fact that it still exists. I've always been intrigued by how Korea has been able to keep existing for so many years because you'd think that with the uneasy truce between North Korea and South Korea, something would've happened by now (especially with Kim Jong Il in the picture) no matter how stupid or reckless it would be for one to attack the other.

As a result, there was a trend in my university career in which I would write at least one research paper about Korea per school year. Somehow, someway, that monster kept butting its ugly head above the surface. The ironic thing is that despite all the research and fascination, I've never been to Korea. I've never even been near Korea. The closest I've been was when I was about 9 years old when we switched flights at Tokyo's Narita Airport en route to and from Hong Kong.

As for the career part, it would give me an idea of whether teaching is something I want to do. If not, then at least I have one year of work experience under my belt and some international experience that I can put on a resume (in case I apply for a position that would require doing business internationally). After doing some research and finding out that the costs of living are much lower than Vancouver's (which actually isn't saying too much) and asking around about how much money can be spent and saved, it also seemed to be a great way to pay off some student loans without worrying about getting laid off admidst this stupid recession.

In addition, EPIK is reimbursing airfare to and from Korea and providing housing, so my only expenses would be utilities, food, transportation and entertainment (which isn't likely going to be a big expense, considering my lifestyle and what I consider "entertainment"). It seemed like a logical first step, and would serve to keep my "travel the world" itch under control for a while.

But now I'm only 10 days from actually taking this first step, and I am scared to death and wondering what I've gotten myself into. I was nervous enough about leaving university and entering the workforce when I assumed I'd be staying here in Vancouver, but now the situation involves a new city, a new country, a new language and a new culture to go along with the new job.

If someone told me back in February that this is what I'd be doing in less than half a year, I would've responded with, "Holy crap."

A fine frenzy

Here I am, still waiting for my official placement in the Seoul public school system, less than one month from my scheduled departure to the Asian motherland. (Okay, it's not my motherland, but at least it's not across an ocean.) The placement is needed before any kind of work visa could be issued. I was pretty concerned about whether there'd be enough time for my work visa to be completed, but I was told by my recruiter that despite the tight timeline, things should get done soon ("soon" as in before July 31st).

I was wondering why it was taking so long, since I submitted everything over a month ago. In fact, I thought I made good haste on my part -- whenever something was requested, I managed to get it done or submit it within the week. I didn't want to be screwed by a bump down the road.

Looks like it wasn't me I had to worry about. It was them. I did some research and apparently I'm not the only one who's waiting around for the placement; there are a lot of people on the same boat, apparently, because there is a huge backlog on the clerical end.

Why the huge backlog, you ask? Well, it's something that I found somewhat mind-boggling. I mean, I know these things happen, but it's still mind-boggling.

What happened was that EPIK was doing some massive recruitment campaigns this year in an attempt to attract more teachers. (EPIK is the English Program in Korea -- the program that handles all foreign English teacher hirings outside Seoul and Gyeonggi-do, and the program to which I applied.) In previous years, the applicant rate was low enough so that your chances of getting hired were much higher.

They got their wish -- a lot of people applied. In fact, too many. Way too many.

Usually, they would interview people and then an average ratio of those interviewees would be notified that their interviews were successful. Let's say, for the sake of argument, the ratio is 1 in 3. Normally, as long as they kept up with that ratio, they'd reach their quota by the time they got through everyone.

Of course, 33% of 1000 applicants would be a much lower number of hirees than, say, 33% of 2000 or 3000 applicants. Apparently that was what happened this year -- the number of applicants skyrocketed, and they quickly realized that this ratio wouldn't work.

Oh noes! What to do with the people they accepted? Apparently SMOE (Seoul Metropolitan Board of Education) is in need of some teachers, so about 100 positions in Seoul were opened up for EPIK applicants. Only the Level 1 and Level 2 applicants (who have the highest pay rates and qualifications within the EPIK system) would qualify for those positions. I was eventually one of the 100 people who nabbed a SMOE position (which was fine by me, since my first choice of location for EPIK was Incheon, which is right next to Seoul). Anyone with Level 3 or below would have a chance at EPIK openings only.

But the applicants kept coming in. That put EPIK in a very unfamiliar situation -- the ability to choose the best of the crop. In previous years, they needed you more than you needed them. The situation this year reversed that trend, so they could suddenly pick the most qualified and attractive candidates out of the bunch, instead of settling with someone who's simply better in relation to everyone else.

That led to something that some people have been complaining about. Since they decided on successful applicants only a day or two after the actual interview, that means they told some people that their interview was successful before they realized they could pick and choose this year. So what happened was that a bunch of people were told that they wouldn't be offered a contract after all -- after being told that their interview was successful. Ouch.

Add that to the high number of teachers renewing their contracts this year, and you've got a fine frenzy on your hands. Judging by the economic situation, I wouldn't be surprised if next year brings in a huge number of applicants as well.

Hopefully EPIK will learn from their mistakes and handle it better next year.

---

As a side note, this bizarre set of circumstances have also impacted me personally. Normally, the new SMOE teachers go through the SMOE teacher orientation. Makes sense, right? Well, apparently I'm not going to go through that process despite being contracted to teach in SMOE. Instead, I'm supposed to be going to the EPIK orientation, despite not signing my contract with EPIK.

This means that I'll be arriving earlier than other SMOE teachers who didn't apply with EPIK. At first I was wondering if this was a mistake but then I found at least two other people on the same boat (and wondering the exact same thing). Those two are also part of the 100 people that applied to EPIK and got transferred to SMOE.

This situation is getting weirder every time I check, it seems. Maybe I should stop checking.