I had to watch an OSHA training video about bloodborne pathogens today. Which reminds me of an experience I had in Korea.

don-frye

Once upon a time, between class periods, I was walking the short distance from my room (the scorned English reading room) to the English classroom when two rowdy 3rd grade boys- in the midst of the skipping, streaming crowd- stopped right in front of me and faced off, each grabbing the other’s shirt collar with one hand and raising their free fist in the air. They pummeled each other until the bigger boy’s hammer fist smashed the smaller boy’s nose hard enough to draw blood. It splattered over the floor and they both drew back. The bigger boy shouted something sharp and menacing and ran off down the hallway as his victim looked down in slight shock, holding his nose. Then he ran off in the same direction down the hall, probably to their next class.

Now, children’s fights and misbehavior are treated with an exceedingly tolerant, negligently long leash in South Korea, and I regularly saw elementary school students punch, kick, stomp on, jump on, and wrestle each other, many times until there were blood or tears, as teachers turned a blind eye to the whole thing. Anyone who has taught in South Korea will more than likely corroborate this lax indulgence toward children.

So, I stand there, stunned, looking down at the blood splatter as children flow around me- some still marching straight through it and ignoring my upheld arms, as per usual. I turn to the open door of the English classroom and see my co-teacher, Mrs. Seok (sounds like a combination of sock and “sawk”), who I think also caught the end of the brief scrap. She looks unsure and hesitant to respond to the boys, which I had come to expect. So I just state the obvious, hoping to provoke something from her.

“Um, there’s blood on the floor.”

“Yeah,” she grimaced and said in her high, pinched voice, “They fight a lot.”

Children are still merrily shouting as they brush past me, standing in an A-frame stance over the main drops of blood. I mumble in frustration, “No, I mean aren’t we supposed to clean up the blood? It can carry disease…” I trail off as I turn to hustle over to the bathroom sink and grab the mop.

Mrs. Seok had gone back in the classroom and children still stomped through the wet floor as I hurriedly mopped up what I could before the bell.

I have no idea if there is an equivalent to OSHA training in Korea. Judging by the attitudes I saw, I think not.