Lessons 2&3

Lesson #2
I am lazy.

Lesson #3
The Three Pillars of Korean Society

1) Spicy food
The first one I lucked out on. Or perhaps Korea lucked out on me with. I love spicy food. On top of that, I’m a rather un-picky eater. I will eat anything (except for bugs- dead or alive). This has been an enormous aid to me here. I have delighted many of the other teachers at lunch by happily devouring (almost) everything I’m served at lunch, while showing perfect grace with my chopsticks.

2) Soju
Korean beverage of choice. A cross between a mild vodka and Japanese sake. It’s actually quite tolerable to take shots of. Which is good, because that is the preferable method of drinking it. Aptly named – the “one shot.” Other acceptable methods include pouring it into your beer, sipping it (mostly for women and done discreetly), or plunking the shot of it into your beer and downing it like a one shot- this time it’s a “bomb.” Like a sake bomb! However, instead of sitting at a dim lit sushi restaurant with a group of your loud friends, you’re sitting cross-legged on a cushion with a table of loud Korean men.

3) Singing
Karaoke, or noreh-bahng in Korean, is the ultimate Korean past-time. I thought I’d made it an entire year without having to sing at a faculty function until a few weeks ago when they began an impromptu singing session at a restaurant. After an hour or two of revelry at the school dinner, a make-shift microphone was made out of a cup and spoon, and one of the teachers who was soon to be married rose to sing and happily burst into song. (That’s the thing that’s so intimidating about singing with Koreans. They belt it out like they’re on American idol). Soon they were urging me to get up and sing a song. I was terrified. Not only were we in a restaurant, but there was no music. A friendly, but pressing teacher (who doesn’t speak English), offered to sing a song with me, but the only song he suggested was “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” After 10 minutes of cajoling and chanting, and pleas from my co-teacher (why don’t you get up there and sing yourself?!), they gave up. On the way home my co-teacher so comfortingly told me that I should have sang a song because it is a very important part of Korean culture. (Once again, I didn’t see you up there busting out a cappella.

Last Thursday was another special teacher outing. Our school won a cash prize for earning the title of Top School in our district and the principal decided to use some of it for a day trip. This time, I was warned a day in advance that I would need to sing. I settled it with myself that I would sing a Christmas carol. 'Tis the season and everyone is allowed some leeway in terms of musical ability with Christmas carols. All day I wondered when they would decide to sing. All buses are equipped with karaoke here, so I wasn’t safe anywhere. But the trip down to the coast came and went. Seafood feast came and went. Trip to migratory bird sanctuary came and went. I thought I was in the clear. We were on our way home and I hadn’t yet had to sing. But, I knew that when a lively male teacher who’d been up and down the aisle with bottle after bottle of soju started digging around in the overhead cubbies that I wasn’t off the hook. I silently prayed that he wouldn’t be able to find the microphone or the book of songs. He found them both. The bus was transformed into a karaoke room. I panicked and chose a Britney Spears song and waited for it to come up in the queue. And so, clutching the back of a seat at the front of the bus with one hand, and a microphone with the other, I sang.

Back by popular demand

Yes, I've been lazy. I want to say that I've had nothing to write about for the past two months, but I know what kind of response that excuse will get. Mom, your hints (so-and-so mentioned how much they liked your blog, such and such asked about your blog) finally paid off. With the international spotlight on Korea the past week, I can at least reassure everyone of my safety, right? No, I did not happen to be visiting Yeongpyeon island last week. I'm alive, and well.

In regards to the recent events involving the two Koreas, there have been no rushes on bottled water and canned good, no bomb drills at school, no civilians walking around with posters telling Kim Jong-il to go to hell. Admittedly, there was a moment following the artillery exchange when I was worried. I had just arrived at my primary school on Tuesday afternoon (day of the attack) to prepare for my after- school conversation class. The TV was on in the teacher's room, but as it was in Korean, I didn't even bother to glance at the screen. Then , my co-teacher tapped my shoulder and said, "It seems North Korea will attack South Korea." Well, that's some news," I thought. Confused, all I could think to say was , "Really?" "Yes, they made a bomb." A quick glance around the room showed all the other teachers sleepily sitting at their desks, working on their computers, or casually chatting with each other. A typical afternoon. No one looked the least bit concerned. I turned to the TV, and saw images of fires rising from the island. Judging that my co teacher's interpretation skills had missed the mark (just a tad, and not for the first time) I did a quick search on Yahoo and found a summary of the afternoon's events. Since then, I've heard no comments from any Koreans on the matter. True, it's possible they don't bother speaking to me about it because of their limited English, and obviously I cannot follow the Korean media on the matter, but what I've seen from my perusals of American news makes the whole thing seem like it's happening somewhere else. Nevertheless, I am registered with US embassy in Seoul.

In other news, I regretted not being home for Thanksgiving, but I celebrated as best I could. I bought 2 giant pumpkin pies and an apple pie at Costco to share with the teachers on Thanksgiving day. Koreans are big on sharing food, and I thought I should pay them back for the shampoo, soap, and toothpaste I got in excess for the Korean equivalent of Thanksgiving back in September. The pies were demolished in true Korean style. Short of forks and plates, the apple pie became a free-for-all for hungry fingers. Oh, did I mention that this feasting went on at 8am? I planned on getting the pies out after lunch, but someone got curious and peaked in the box early.

That was the extent of the real Thanksgiving food that I ate that day. Without an oven it would have been impossible to make any of the other favorites. So, for dinner I dined at Outback Steakhouse with my friends (two of which are Australian and swear there are actually no Outback Steakhouses in Australia). We drew Secret Santa names over plates of ribs and baked potatoes and said cheers with our glasses of long island iced teas. Not quite Thanksgiving dinner, but western no less.

Though there is no Black Friday in Korea, Christmas has come commercially here just as at home. Many stores have decorations up and some have Christmas trees. To add to the holiday feel, it snowed for the first time 2 nights ago. Only a dusting on cars and small piles on the street corners were left by morning, now only puddles, but it was pretty exiting to me while it lasted. We'll see how I feel about it in a month or two.

And in 3 months, I'll be going home. Not quite soon enough for me to start getting sentimental, but I've decided to give myself a little blogging goal to motivate me to write more often the rest of my time here. Each time I write, I'm going to include something new that I have learned since being here. I don't know how enjoyable this will be for you, but it'll be nice for me to look back on. So, here goes...

Probably the lesson that has taken me the longest to learn, and one that I frequently still forget, is this: people, especially Koreans, are not necessarily going to knock themselves over to give you praise for your work. I've exhausted my friends' ears with complaints about how my co-teachers never tell me if I did well or not and worries about how I must be a bad teacher since no one ever tells me I'm a good teacher. But, aside from trusting in myself (I know I'm a good teacher, whether or not they tell me so), I've learned to accept praise and signs of gratitude in more subtle ways. After all, Koreans are very indirect. So, when my vice principal expresses regret that I'm not re-signing my contract and says he would like to see me again in a few years, I should feel appreciated. When my co-teacher texts me that she has a business trip and won't see me today, I should feel cared for. When I get showered with 20 excited hello teachers down the hall, I should feel like a good teacher.

hair today, gone for the past two months

I went to get my haircut today. I'd given up caring much about my hair back in July when I decided Korea would be a good place to try out a lighter shade of blonde. The hairdresser I saw lived in Australia for a number of years and spoke English, so we had no trouble discussing the shade I wanted and selecting sample magazine photos that evening I went in for the coloring. After a good 40 minutes beneath a pile of slimy hair heavy with gobs of chemical goo, my mind full of images of me with bright blonde hair just in time for summer vacation, I was rinsed, washed, and dried. Alas, no beach blonde. Instead, I was face to face with a sick pineapple head. The ungodly shade of yellow-orange next to my pale face made me look like a creature from the depths of the sea. The kind with transparent skin that emit their own light. My hair was like a torch crowning my watery face. My mind raced with thoughts of how many different hats I could acquire by daylight, though my body remained calm. How is the color? she asked. I casually admitted to it being a bit too orange for my skin tone, and she promised she could darken it up by adding more toner. After another dousing of chemicals, a wash, and dry, I was in the ballpark of my original color- dark blonde. For 50,000 won ($45) I should have been pissed that I essentially just gave my hair a chemical bath for nothing, but I was so relieved to again be part of the human race that I happily paid up and shot out of there. I'd been to hell and back, and I vowed not to dye my hair ever again in country where the color doesn't even naturally (or unnaturally for that matter) occur.

As it turned out the toner ended up to be more of a band-aid fix that dissolved throughout the summer. Though it never faded enough to be as bad as the first time, there was something noticeably off about the color of my hair until a few days ago when I received the box of self hair dye in the mail from my boyfriend. I've never been more pleased to be a ruddy dark blonde.

With my color looking fresh (and natural) I thought it was time to invest a bit in the style I'd been neglecting. So today I went along with my friends to a new salon they'd recently had good experiences with. I got a hand massage, tea, a slice of cake, a special treatment to help repair the damage from the dyeing, and an impromptu manicure all on top of a decent haircut and all for around $10.

Today I started caring about my hair again... and apparently about this blog.

Taco Thursday

There is no such thing as summer vacation in Korea. At least not for a lot of kids. And for those kids, at least not in the endless afternoons full of snacking and boredom, kids wandering the neighborhood aimlessly, crumpled summer reading list at the bottom of a trampled backpack sort of way. As my co-teacher put it, parents see summer vacation as an opportunity for kids to get ahead. After all, getting ahead is the driving force behind the Korean education system. So, instead of skateboarding around the mall, hoping to get invited to someone's house with a pool, or sitting idly in front of the television, many Korean children are attending classes, camps, and tutoring sessions through July and August. I had spent the last 4 weeks preparing for English summer camp. One week at each of my schools. I was unsure what to expect, but I assumed it wasn't supposed to be the bobbing for apples, making lanyards sort of summer camp. So, while I included a higher proportion of games, songs, and videos into my lesson plans, I made sure to keep clear learning objectives throughout.

I was pleasantly surprised then this past Monday when I started camp at my main school. Already unstressed because I was only responsible for 1/4 of the week's activities, I relaxed even more to find that the atmosphere resemebeled...well, summer camp.
I immedietely cut out the boring vocabulary worksheets (orginially designed to take up time anyway). Throughout the week we designed outfits for Lady Gaga, painted pieces of recycled "folk art" and made recipes for disgusting sandwiches. And today, after giving a rather enlightening powerpoint presentation on American food, I itroduced the taco. Of course, they are familiar with this infamous Mexican food, but I thought I'd explain it better. In fact, the taco is mentioned at one point or another in every text book, though the recipe in the book says to cook the meat in tomato sauce. I did my best to show the morph from traditional Mexican street food turned American favorite. Natuarlly I mentioned Taco Bell (no, they don't have Taco Bell here) and tried my best to explain its value in the taco world. I showed them a commercial from the 90s of Shaq's Taco Neck syndrome. Then... we made tacos!!

I was in charge of the recipe and all the cooking was left to the students. They all proved to be pretty steady with a knife as they chopped piles of onions and bell peppers to cook witht the ground beef. Things continuing smoothly as the beef was added to vegetables in the frying pan. I circulated and added spices to the meat while the students stirred away and began passed around the tortillas. I thought we had this one in the bag. All that was left was to chopt the lettuce and tomato to top off the tacos. But, instead of chopping in up into toppings, each group began preparing a communal salad with the vegetables. It finally made sense why there were cucumbers on each of the tables. And thousand island dressing. Koreans and their communal side dishes. Oh well, I guess it will be beef burritos with a side salad.

Now, you can blame me for forgetting the hot sauce at home, but I know Koreans by now and I'm going to bet that they would have squirted ketchup and mustard on their tacos with or without the Tapatio. I watched in nervous amusement as they piled on the beef and condiments. If that's as gross as it looks, I will be responsible for soiling the taco's good name in the eyes of a room full of Koreans. I focused on the humor in it to avoid the guilt. At the very least they were impressed by my folding skills. Since most of them put so much meat on their tortillas I had to fold them burrito style to keep it together.

One of the students presented me with one of the meat pockets and I was eager to taste it, see how badly we'd messed these things up. I prayed that if nothing else, the meat came out decently seasoned, since techinically that was my only hand in the preparation. Then she quickly took it back, evidently having forgotten to add the ketchup, and re-presented it to me. Well, if I came here thinking we were going to enjoy authentic mexican food in the basement kitchen at a Korean middle school, it was my mistake. I took a bite. Not half-bad. though some bites tasted more like a sloppy joe then a taco, the meat had the right flavor and the tortilla- well, a tortilla is a tortilla. And everyone seemed happy as they dug into their salads with chopsticks, stuggled to keep the filling inside their "tacos," and sipped soda from communal bowls. (Then again, what student wouldn't be happy to be cooking and eating instead of studying). We had Koreanized the taco. And, having just given a presentation on how the US had effectively Americanized the taco in the exact same way, I felt I'd learned a lesson if no one else had.

And so, it isn't so terrible in Korea that the teachers and students alike can't wish that everyday were summer vacation just like home.

Baskin Robbins uniting cultures around the world

This past Sunday I went to lunch with a co-worker from my main school. It took nearly a whole semester for me to be invited to a teacher's house, and she isn't even an English teacher. Actually she's more of an academic director. From what I gather a counselor/development coordinator. She invited me to lunch with her family and I accepted. When the day came, I have to admit I was less than excited. Her English is not great and I resented spending my free day trying to communicate and fill awkward silences. I have to do that everyday at work. But, I was happily surprised with the day I spent with her and her family. It turns out her 19 year old son attended High School in Indiana and is fluent in English. I felt bad at his parent's unending requests for him to translate everything, but was relieved that the day wouldn't be spent in frustration and smiles of defeat when meaning was lost. We joined her parents and brother and sister-in-law for a duck lunch at a restaurant where I learned that her father is a former English professor and her brother possesses decent English skills as well. Of course, I was shocked at the amount of food brought to the table. I wonder if the day will come when I am not flabbergasted when they bring in the stone pots of stew to finish the feast. It's always just as my legs are starting to go numb from sitting on the floor and I'm tugging at the waist of my shorts.

After lunch, we went to my co-worker's parents' home to have a celebration for her mother's birthday. Her father showed me his photo album of his time in the United States with his colleagues. I saw him at Harvard University, by the Golden Gate Bridge, and at the Grand Canyon. Then he showed me his study. His section of Nathaniel Hawthorne was impressive and later explained when I saw the copy of the book he had written (in Korean) about the author. After that he led me to his wife's sewing room. In here the walls were full of fabric stuffed animals that she had sewn. They were actually quite interesting and in the back of my mind I was hoping she would offer me one to keep.. Though she didn't end up giving me a stuffed bird, she did present me with one of her latest projects- a doll that she was sewing for UNICEF. Someone explained that each purchase goes to vaccinating a child in Africa. She wanted me to have one and she would put on the UNICEF website that it was adopted by me. Finally the grandfather showed me his golf room. At first I was just shocked that their apartment home had space enough for a sewing room, let alone a tennis room, but one has never seen so many tennis shirts in one closet! That's pretty much all there was aside from the tennis rackets propped in the corner. When we returned to the living room the others were chuckling and I gathered they were laughing at the grandfather dragging me around the apartment. "There is nothing to see," they translated with smiles.

But I begged to differ. There was plenty to see! And plently to eat. The pound cake I had brought as a gift and a watermelon were sliced up and put on the table as the candles were lit on the ice cream cake. It was from Baskin Robbins, and much to my delight, it was mint chocolate chip! It thrilled me that there I sat in an apartment in Korea, celebrating a near stangers 70-odd birthday, sharing my all-time favorite cake and the exact same birthday cake I used to eat every year at my own grandparents' house.

Just another month teaching English in Korea

The month of June has slipped away and I realize I've only written one post to document it's passing. And it was about sewage. So, lest you think I've lost interest in sharing my experiences or else I've truly got nothing better to write about than the rotten air, I'll list my excuses and then attempt to recall some of the past few weeks' highlights.

I didn't travel anywhere this month in an attempt to save money for summer vacation. It didn't work as well as I'd hoped. Nonetheless, the extra free time lent itself to thinking about preparing to plan for English Summer Camp. I am responsible for 2 weeks of summer camp, one at each of my schools. Since I can use the same lesson plans for both schools, this totals to 20 hours of teaching. As I don't have grades to write or final exams to prepare like all other teachers in the world, I can't complain about the end of semester stress that I'm catching wind of. But, I have been busy finishing up lessons in time for the exam, preparing review games, and thinking about summer camp.

Besides lesson planning, I've also been jogging a few evenings a week. It still feels silly taking the bus to go jogging, but not too many people run outside here and the traffic is dangerous, so it's best to run on the path by the river. You have to dodge a fair amount of senior citizens and strollers and giant bugs, but its pretty pleasant altogether. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to continue these evening jogs as rainy season is coming (a 3 week period of tropical downpours) followed by even higher temperatures and humidity levels. But by then I should be sweating enough just walking down the street to take care of a day's workout.

Other than that, I've just been lazy. I blame it on the heat, but my friend, insisting that our lethargy is due to lack of iron, hosted a steak night at her apartment the other night. True to her Australian roots, she managed to pull off some pretty tasty steaks with her one electric burner and 6 inch frying pan. My contribution was a pineapple cheesecake that was doomed from the start. With no oven and no mixer of any kind I attempted to make a dessert from scratch. I was devastated, though hardly surprised, when the filling melted to soup 2 minutes after removing it from the refrigerator. Somewhere between the wafers of gelatin and the vegan German instant whipped cream I went wrong.

Let's see... what else has happened this month? There was the day we were talking about wishes and I instructed the students to draw a picture and write what they plan to do for summer vacation in one box and what they wish they could do in another box. As I went around to check their work, I found one student had written in the second box beneath a picture of an airplane "I wish I could fly to North Korea and dead Kim Jong Il." This is the first and only passionate expression I have heard from a Korean in regards to their unfriendly neighbors to the North and the recent rise in tension. I helped had to laugh at the student's cheekiness, and at myself as I helped her change "dead" to "kill," but refrained from calling on her to read her response aloud.

Then there was the day I ate lunch instead of going to my last class. No one informed me that lunch was moved to from the 5th to the 6th period that day, and no one bothered to come get me from the cafeteria when I failed to show up for my 6th period class.

With last minute schedule changes always popping up, and me being informed maybe 50% of the time, you can see why I wasn't very concerned last week when no one was in the English lab after the bell for one of my classes. After 5 minutes went by, one of the students ran in apologizing. "Sorry, teacher. Crying."

So one of the students is crying? I couldn't see how that detained all 25 of them, but I've learned to live with a lot of gray areas. And all I had planned for the day was a movie so the tardiness wasn't a major issue. "Math exam," she offered in explanation. Oh, so maybe one student is crying she failed the math exam, and a group of them are comforting her. And the rest are still finishing the exam? I've also learned to live with filling in they gray areas myself. Then the students started trickling in. All but one or two with red eyes and tears on their faces, cradling their elbows with bright red wrists dangling in front of them. What in the world? A massive beating. The only explanation I got was "math exam." I didn't feel like a horrible teacher anymore for playing a movie the whole period to give myself a break.

All in all, summer vacation may be just around the corner, but the more stress levels rise at school (for students and teachers alike), the more my 8 days off is looking pretty meager.

Heating up the pool

I miss the smell of a cool morning performing the opening act for a beautiful, clear, hot day. The smell of still air and sprinklers. You can sense this type of day before you even go outside. It makes waking up, which is always a long and painful ordeal for me, a little bit cheerier and the start of my day a little bit less sluggish.

Though the weather is warming at an alarming rate here as the short Spring melts into Summer, I'm finding there is something lacking in the freshness and zest of the season here. Perhaps being landlocked, its the cool air from the sea that I'm missing. Perhaps, there being no lawn in Korea (save for the cemetery), I'm getting nostalgic for the smell of damp grass and sound of sprinklers clicking. Many will laugh at my idea of hot weather just as they laughed at my chattering teeth and concerns with frost bite back in February. Fair enough. The Bay Area isn't exactly extreme when it comes to weather. But that's just one more thing I can say I learned here: an appreciation for pleasant weather. That, and pleasant smells. Because the truth is, putting the absence of dew on the grass and fresh ocean air aside, Korea really stinks. And the heat is making it worse.

The dark window in my cave apartment is no big tease when it comes to beautiful mornings. The fact that I break a sweat just getting dressed is promise enough of a nice, hot day. But the morning air that manages to get in my screen isn't cool or fresh. And the smell that hits once I get outside is a far cry from dew drops and salt water. In Korea, the sewage brews like morning coffee. I don't know what goes on beneath those metal sewer grates that dot the streets and alley ways, but it isn't treatment. I dread July and August when the humidity will clog the air. We'll all be swimming in a steamy public park bathroom.

Homesick in Korea?

If ever an American is homesick in Korea, there is one place guaranteed to ease the pain. Cosco. Yep, the giant wharehouse store full of bulk goods. Just a 20 minute walk from my apartment sits a Cosco, exactly the same as the ones at home. Well, maybe not exactly- there's a bit more in the way of chili paste and fish flavored things, but look hard enough and you'll find such delights as string cheese, sour cream, ravioli, and Go-gurt. In the frozen section, taquitos, chimichangas, corndogs and all the other guilty microwaveables. At the bakery counter you can order the enormous sheet cakes with tacky icing- as blah as they are at home, I'm sure, but familiar nonetheless. L'oreal fruity kids' shampoo, Altoids, Chips Ahoy, and Otis Spunkmeyer! It's like a foreigner's fairyland. They even have the good old food court with hotdogs and pizza and chicken bakes and soft serve. And, alas, they have tortillas.

I'm budgeting myself this month so when I went to Cosco last night, I only had a few items on my list. It is easy to go overboard at a place that sells candy bars in packs of 50 and enough microwave popcorn in one box to run a movie theater for a day. First, my friends and I dined for $3 a piece at the food court. Sitting on the red plastic swivel chairs enjoying my pizza, I looked around happily at all the Koreans enjoying the same food as me. Really the only hint that gave away that we were in Korea at all were the plates of relish and onion mashed together in the center of all their tables. A pretty clever way to get the pickled side dish they require at every meal.

After eating, we spread out to shop. I secured my giant loaf of wheat bread and 2 pack Kashi cereal and began my search for the rumored tortillas. There they were, next to the frozen potstickers. I lifted it out of the freezer and admired the frosty bag. Mi Rancho Tortillas. San Leandro California. I was delighted. From home! Thinking about how the tortillas had come just as far as I had made me quite happy. Silly, I know. A whole lot of crap travels all over the world all the time. The majority of the food in that place is obviously from the States. But reading the words San Leandro made me feel like I wasn't really so far from home at all.

3 month mark

I have made it 3 months and it would be dishonest of me to say I did so without a hitch. The past few weeks have seen me frustrated, often to the point of resentment, and I would not be leaving an accurate record of my experiences if I didn't admit to it. I know that the memories of my time in Korea will be happy, but I don't want to leave the impression that I came and conquered. I have shed some tears in the past few months. Months and years rub out the difficulties, the challenges, the ugly moments from past experiences, while polishing up the fun and happy times. This blog will help remind me of what memories will forget.

As I said, I've been carrying around a lot of frustration that has lately turned to bitterness. Why don' t they just tell me the neckline on my sweater is too low instead of awkwardly trying to get me to admit that I'm cold? Did you ever think that telling me the students don't understand is maybe not as effective as helping them to understand?

In one of my classes, I find myself racing with my co-teacher whenever I pose a question to the class. It's me getting the students to provide the right answer versus my co-teacher's seemingly incontinent need to mutter the answer from his perch in the back of the room. Sometimes I win and one of my sharper students will come right out with a response. Other times, I break the 10-second teaching rule and don't allow sufficient time to pass before I re-phrase the question. But it's only so as not to award my co-teacher a silent moment in which he can supply the answer.

Example: After discussing the meaning of the vocabulary word "download" from a rather ridiculous chapter titled "How MP3 files work" I asked the students what, besides music, can you download on your computer? My question was echoed in every period that week by my co-teacher unenthusiastically droning, "Movies, books, pictures..."

Once in a while a clever student will come up with an answer that he hasn't already said. More often the students closest to him will repeat what he says. I've taken to ignoring him completely and not moving on until the question is answered by the students, whether they're merely re-iterating or not.

Aside from struggles with co-teachers, I've been rebelling against learning any Korean, something which I'm not proud of at all. Feeling lonely at lunch, and alienated from all the other teachers, I should have all the more motivation to work on my Korean. But in fact, I've allowed myself to make excuses. I don't have any time to learn Korean. I work all week and on the weekend the last thing I want to do is study. Or, I'm here to teach English. It isn't my fault that I have to speak English all day.

When all the teachers went out to dinner on Teacher's Day last week, I started to feel the real impact of not being able to communicate. Of course, the other English teachers can speak to me, but I'm sure they are tired of translating and always having to worry about me. So, I don't blame them for leaving me at the table to fend for myself after dinner. But what am I to do in a situation like this? Other teachers, usually the ones who have had a bottle or two of soju, test their meager English skills on me and try to get me into the conversation. But then they always end up going back to talking in Korean. I'll hear my name in the mix and know they're talking about me, but get no acknowledgement after. I might not know what you're saying but I do know my own name!

Today my school hosted the first round of the city-wide English speech contest. I witnessed 15 middle school students stand up and give a 3-minute original speech to a crowded room in English. I kept picturing myself in Spanish class and recalling the nerves I suffered even having to give a one word answer. And that was in college! I was so proud of all of the students who voluntarily participated in the competition, especially the competitor from my school who I'd spent the morning coaching. When she learned that she hadn't scored enough to continue to the next round, she got up to leave, then turned and gave me an oh well smile. I finally felt the gratitude and worth of my role here in Korea that I worried did not exist.

I have resolved to give learning Korean a better effort. The thought of me going home in 9 months without having built any stronger relationships with my co-workers is upsetting. I want them to know me, not just as the foreign teacher, but as a person.

As for my co-teacher with the answer-giving case of turrets, I'm trying to learn more about the way that Korean teachers teach and reconcile this with his behavior in my classes. I know that students are not often expected to give responses in a typical Korean classroom, especially an English class. Classroom learning seems much more passive than active in Korea, with emphasis on memorization and precision. I can only imagine what my co-teacher thinks of my silly mad libs, coloring activities, and group assignments printed on pink paper. It seems that the English teachers here are trying to understand our foreign ways of teaching as much as we are theirs.

There is still plenty of complaining ahead. But here's evidence- I'm working on it.

Seoul trip

Koreans shop like they drive. Just go ahead with what they want to do, oblivious to all other people. Start shifting through a rack and expect it to be shoved back your way by a Korean who decides she wants to have a look at the other end of it. If you spot what you need and want to grab it, there always seems to be a couple of Korean girls with their high heels glued to the floor and their thin little bodies managing to block out the entire display.

Unfortunately this didn't deter me from hitting the stores on my first trip to Seoul. I'm never completely comfortable with shopping on a trip. I mean, you can shop at home anytime, right? But to justify, there is quite a bit in Seoul that you can't find in Daejeon. For starters, H&M and Forever21. I know, I know. Forever21? Going there for clothes while abroad is like eating at McDonald's. But sometimes you just want the familiar.

And I got a lot of familiar this weekend. Every subway car I rode in had at least 2 or 3 other foreigners in it. Some cars were even nearly half white people. I'm so used to being the only blond girl on the block. And being pleased with myself to have found such a gem of a country to live in for a year. Seoul reminded that there are thousands of other foreigners basking in glow of the same gem. Now I was just part of the crowd.

And there were literally crowds everywhere. If I could sum up Seoul from the small glimpse I got of it this weekend, I would say one word-crowded. But truly amazing. The typical Korean attitude- a blend of easygoing enjoyment, brotherly love, and prideful industry- seeps from the streets. There is no wonder at all why many foreigners find a second home here. It is a happy home. Yet, I won't say I'm disappointed that I can't call it my home. I'm perfectly content in Daejeon with its one subway line, 2 dance clubs, and no Mexican food. Okay, scratch that last one.

As the bus from Seoul heaved into Deajeon, I thought of how I had secretly missed the subtle stares from strangers and the delighted waves from children I get when I pass by. I missed being special.

Sports Day

It was annual sports day today at school. Both my schools had been practicing for the past few weeks for this national school tradition, but I was unsure what to expect on game day. Their practices seemed to consist of milling about with hoola hoops and an occasional round of group jumproping. I suspect that these practices, which got them out of class, were, well, just to get out of class. But it got me out of class too so I can't complain.

Yesterday I was told that I could stay home as there would be no classes today, but I try to participate in school activities when I can. Not being able to have relationships with most of the other teachers, I take opportunities to still feel a part of the school. When I arrived on Sports Say, I received a green t-shirt and cap to wear in support of one of my 3rd grade classes. There was an opening ceremony on the field (similar to a baseball field, without the grass or the diamond) with the Korean national anthem. You aren't supposed to put your hand on your heart for another country's anthem, are you? I thought not, but still felt awkward. Then the games began. There were some races, some jump rope contests, tug-of-war, and other more unusual "traditional Korean games" that each homeroom competed in. The green team did dreadfully in nearly every event.

While I watched my team fail, I sat under the teacher's tent first eagerly welcoming and then politlely accepting all the food and drink thrust at me. Oh fried chicken? It's only 10:30 am but what the hey? Hamburgers? Where on earth did those come from? Beer? I don't want to be rude so I'll sip one... I was starting to feel sorry for the students out there in the heat jumping around while the teachers sat and indulged. Then I realized that there was a hamburger and Pepsi for each student, too. And popsicles. It seemed funny celebrating physical fitness and sports competition with a round of burgers and sodas, but oh well. After a donut for desert, I was ready to pass out.

When will I learn not to underestimate the amount of food that Koreans eat? After another hour's worth of games, everyone headed to the cafeteria for real lunch. I took a handful of rice, one slice of pork fat, and one lettuce leaf, but could barely stuff it down. Especially with the second can of beer placed in front of me by the vice principal. I ate my rice grain by grain and watched the other teachers show me how to make a lettuce wrap (refraining from explaining that the reason I didn't use the sesame leaf is because I don't like the sesame leaf). Then they made me compare skin tones with them by holding my arm out. Something which I have done many times in my day, but never evoking such envy. Pale skin is desirable here. And sunscreen is not hard to come by in this country so no one worry about me this summer. Luckily after lunch I was free to go, and I rolled home for an afternoon nap. Then again, it could be that I just dreamed all that up. Who goes to work and eats food and drinks beer and sits around?

Retail therapy

I went on quite the shopping spree today. In addition to hiking, shopping is a national pastime in Korea. So I was participating in a typical Korean Sunday and indulging in wonderful Korean culture. In truth, I think the retail therapy was well deserved. I taught that Saturday conversation class full of boys for the last time this week and needed to reward myself for having survived the whole 1 and 1/2 month ordeal.

There were no fights this week, but there was no learning either. Determined to prove my worth as a teacher and get through to the boys, I spent all my free time this past week planning a lesson that would hold their interest. There is nothing they could relate to more personally than video games. If you aren't aware, Korea has one of the largest gaming markets in the world and there is a PC gaming cafe on every corner here. If this doesn't catch them, nothing will.

Well, apparently nothing will. At least not with me in charge.

In order to fight my buyer's remorse, I'm now determined to work on developing a tougher teaching side. While I pray I never have to face a class that unmotivated and undisciplined again, I'm going to be prepared for next time.

On another note, I am still not fully recovered from my illness earlier this month. On Friday, after a cough attack at my desk, my co-teacher turned to me and said, "Did you catch a cold?"

Ummm, yeah. You know, the one that's going around? You went to the hospital for it. Ring a bell? Well, she's perfectly healthy now. No liquid lung, scratchy throat, or cracking voice in the middle of class. Whatever they gave her at the hospital worked. Perhaps the joke was on me when I scoffed at her for going to the hospital for a cold.

Sunday stroll

I recently read somewhere that Korea has a national obsession with hiking. It isn't too surprising being that 90% of Korea is forested mountains, but other than the countless hiking gear shops around town, I hadn't yet witnessed the pastime in action. I'd been meaning to check out some local trails and I finally got out there this morning with a few friends. It was the perfect day for hiking- cool and a bit overcast, but no wind. And all the cherry blossoms are in bloom now so there is a veil of pale pink throughout the hillsides.

I quickly realized that hiking is more than obsession here. It's an art. We were put to shame in the first 10 minutes of our climb up Mt. Bomunsan by the 60+ Korean man in his track suit who glided past us while we stood hunched over and huffing on the side of the trail. The morning progressed (slowly and with frequent rests) but pleasantly. We were continually amazed at the old ladies bouncing by us with ease and charmed by the pairs of older folk sharing thermoses of macoli atop a flat rock or a fallen log. Though we didn't make it to any of the destinations we had originally pinpointed on the map, (partly because we couldn't read the trail signs, and partly because we vastly overestimated our hiking abilities) we did sip from a freshwater spring and get some great views of the city. And, the forest spit us out right at my main school.

We emerged sweaty, and one of us with split pants, but still in good spirits. We vowed to go hiking as frequently as possible and get in shape by the end of the year. Then we went and split 2 large pizzas and mozerella sticks between the four of us.

Sick

For the past three days I've been sick with the flu. I'd be worried it's the swine except I got the shot before I came.

On Saturday I woke up with a fever, but I had to teach a class that morning so I couldn't stay in bed. Yes, the same class that my vice principal said I shouldn't do and that I said I wasn't continuing under any circumstances. Well, being the responsible and kind person that I am, I agreed to finish out this month since I felt bad for initially accepting and then backing out on the job.

Of course the class was torture. At one point one of the heftier students had another smaller kid pinned up against the wall and was nearly strangling him. My attempts to split them apart were useless. As were my hoarse yells for them to sit down. Luckily, just as they were taking it into the hall, another Native-English teacher was walking by the room and he tackled the big kid and held him down while I retrieved the Korean teacher. She came down with her stick and led the two troublemakers upstairs and I tried to carry on with class. Five minutes later both boys walked back into the room and sat down. What? That's it? He nearly killed his classmate and he's back in class five minutes later? I was beginning to seriously doubt my qualifications for being in that room. It's one thing to fail to get anything productive done in class, but to fail to ensure everyone's safety is another. It was later clarified that the littler kid had apparently called the bigger one "gay" and set him off.

When the Korean English teacher was driving me home she mentioned that she had talked to my vice principal about my teaching at her school and he was now okay with it. "So you can continue teaching here if you want," she said. Then she explained the cause of the fight that went on earlier. Apparently the littler kid had called the bigger one "gay."

Middle school field trip- Part 2

Day two/three

We woke up early and bussed to Mt. Seorak. I was under the impression we would be hiking to the top (about a 4 hour hike), but apparently I misunderstood whoever told me that. No one was to hike to the top. While the students went on a shorter hike, my co-teacher and I accompanied the principal and founder on a gondola ride to the summit. It was a pleasant ride and there was a great view at the top, but I couldn't help feeling lazy.

After we got back, we walked around the nearby temple. I kept seeing tiny spiral seashells in the dirt, which was very puzzling to me since we were up in the mountains. I finally asked my co-teacher what they were and she showed my the pot of water full of the shells at a snack stand. I guess you suck the goo out of them then toss the shells on the ground. Sounds delicious. Almost as delicious as the dried squid I'd tried the night before at the teachers' get together. While not totally disgusting, it was definitely not pleasant. It has the texture of shoe leather and tastes like fishy beef jerky and feet. I gave it a try and passed on seconds. When some of the other teachers went out to stock up on more later in the day, I politely declined. But I ended up with a big bag of it anyway because the school founder bought some for each of the teachers. It's still sitting on my screened porch, waiting to be re-gifted.

That night, the other teachers were concerned about me having to sit through another late night social hour with the principal and company so they insisted I attend the student's rally instead. I got to see my students sing and dance to their favorite pop songs and relax for a couple hours. But, I wasn't completely off the hook. We met for another teacher's gathering after the rally. This time, one of the teachers insisted we go do karaoke and as this is a common Korean pastime, no one objected but me (silently). I was extremely cofused about how we were going to get to a norebahng (karaoke studio), but I should have known. Naturally there was one in the basement of the hotel. I manned the tambourine for a couple songs then tried to make a polite getaway.

If you thought it convenient that there was a karaoke room at the hotel, then you'll be as impressed as I was to find there was also karaoke on the bus. I was just thrilled to learn this the next day on the ride home and so were the students. They sang the entire 3.5 hours back to Daejeon.

Middle school field trip- Part 1

Last night I returned from a 3-day school field trip. I was the first foreign teacher to be invited by my school on the traditional field trip and, though I got lost in the 9 bus loads of of middle school girls, I also felt like the center of attention for a good part of the trip. Three days touring everything from a phonograph museum to a house belonging to Kim il Sung, two nights of formalities and shocking informalities of bonding with Korean co-workers, and one giant bag of dried squid later, I was too exausted to write when I got home. So, I will try to recap the most memorable of events now. Which is a difficult task, as every moment held something new for me.

Day one

We loaded the buses and hit the road for Gangwon Province (the northeast area of South Korea). It is customary throughout the country for middle school students to make this trip to the famous Mt. Seorak and surrounding areas with their school. About 3 1/2 hours later, we arrived at our first stop, Woljeong Temple. It was my first Buddhist Temple and it was every bit as peaceful and colorful as I imagined. With the Joseon dynasty, confusianism replaced Buddhism as the country's ordinated belief system so surviving Bhuddist temples are hidden in mountain retreats and draw heavily from their natural surroundings. In fact, aside from the vibrant colors and intricate painting designs, Buddhist temples appear quite simplistic compared to the cathedrals and basilicas I'm used to touring. Fortunately for Buddhism, Korea is nearly all mountain and although I saw 3 temples in the past 3 days, there are many more I look forward to exploring while I'm here.

After lunch in the parking lot, complete with a couple shots of makoli (a rice wine that tastes like fermented grass) from the school founder, we all filed up to the temple and got to look around. 30 minutes later we filed back to the parking lot. I was impressed with the promptness of it all. We went, we looked, we took a couple pictures and we left. I can recall a lot of waiting around by the door on my school field trips. You will look at every single one of these pictures hanging on the wall for at least 5 minutes and you will like it. It was a pleasant surprise (though not all that surprising when I think about it) that Koreans acknowledge the fact that teenagers are only so interested in old buildings and statues and museums.

Next stop, the Charmsori Gramophone and Edison Museum. This was a personal favorite of mine as I'm a museum buff and this one was actually in English. The rationale for such a place in the middle of the Korean countryside? My co-teacher explained that Edison is very famous in Korea... like Helen Keller. The museum is a private collection of hundreds of models of gramophones and other inventions by Edison, including the first talking dolls. This time I could have spent another hour or two in the place, but after the students listened to a few demonstrations, we swept through each of the rooms and scooted on to the next site.

The final stop before hitting the hotel was Ojukheon, the birthplace of the famous Korean scholar and politician Yulgok. This site was packed with kids from schools all over Korea with the same agenda. In a sea of students in uniforms and sneakers, I wandered about the temple/ garden and took pictures of the surrounding mountains. I could hear the gasps and giggles from other students when they caught a glimpse of me and took it that their native English teacher wasn't invited on their field trip. Occasionally one would work up the courage to say/shout hello or nice to meet you and I would smile and respond. If one of my students witnessed this exchange they would try to communicate to me as best they could that I am not to speak to them. They are very competitive, my co-teacher told me. I laughed to myself picturing my students yelling, Don't you dare talk to her! She's our white girl.

When we finally made it to the hotel/condo, which was ingeniously called a "condotel," but which was more like a condo/hostel, I was exhausted and looking forward to going to sleep after dinner. We ate a cafeteria style dinner in the basement of the condotel. I wasn't thrilled by the food so I didn't eat much, but that proved to be a some clever foresight on my part because the food just kept on coming as the night wore on. After dinner and a quick walk to the beach, all the teachers gathered in one of the rooms for snacks and drinks. We all sat on the floor around the table while oranges, dried squid, cookies, crackers, and nuts were passed around and sparkling wine was poured into paper cups.

A question was translated for me here and there but for the most part I just listened and relaxed. After about an hour, everyone stood up at once and me and my co-teacher went back to our room. Time for bed? No. The principal and founder were happy to have me on the trip with them and arranged a gathering to celebrate. When we got the call we would have to go down. I was warned then that the principal and founder were heavy drinkers and that most of the teachers dreaded spending time with them, but that we would have to endure for the night.

When we got the hall, a long table of side dishes and shot glasses was spread out. I was seated on a flat pillow next to the principal and across from the founder. I accepted a glass of makoli, which I politely sipped for a while. I had been told that the general rule is, if your glass is empty, it will be refilled by someone. But no one mentioned that if your glass is full, you will be offered another glass. So, there is really no way to avoid a friendly shot. Unless, you do like many Korean woman do and keep a secret cup under the table which you discreetly dump the alcohol into after touching it to your lips. Some who know me may be thinking why I of all people would feel burdened by an ample supply of alcohol and a cheerful environment in which to drink it, but I wasn't exactly at ease at that table, and not just because my legs were cramping up underneath me. After heaps of sushi and pots of boiling stew came and went from the table, and all the female teachers had found ways to escape back to their rooms, my co-teacher and I were still seated at the table. She was doing her best to translate what the founder was saying to me and I was doing my best to give appropriate responses. I pinky-promised him that I would stay in Korea for ten years, I obliged his countless hand shakes, and I assured him repeatedly that I do have a "good impression" of his school.

After nearly a second hour, another English teacher (who up until this trip I'd developed a disliking for) said some words to the principal that excused us and thanked me for staying so long. As we walked back to our room, my co-teacher asked me to please understand that the founder was very drunk. I laughed and told her not to worry. ..

Settling in

I realized today that my double consciousness has gone away. Without me even knowing it. I was turning the corner in the rain this morning, as usual at the very last minute, and the bus I catch for school was already pulling up to the curb. So I made a dash for it and hopped on just in time. The bus drivers here are not any more forgiving to the late mad-dashers than they are at home. I tottered in front of the bus and dug around in my loaded bag for my transit card, swiped it, and stumbled to the back past the morning school crowd as the bus lurched forward. Then it hit me. I just did all that without even thinking about it! The bus was there and I needed to catch it so I ran. I wasn't clutching my transit card for dear life like I normally do in preparation to load the bus, but I managed to get it out, swipe it, and proceed without a hitch. All the while, not even thinking about the fact that I'm a foreigner and I stand out like a sore thumb.

This may sound strange, but up until now I've done everything with a double consciousness- a voice in the back of my head that's constantly saying, "you're a foreigner." Going to the store, using the ATM, getting on the bus- whatever the task, my double consciousness hasn't let me forget that I'm a foreigner, I don't know Korean, and I could do something wrong and make a total fool of myself at any given moment. What if I don't understand how much this milk is that I want to buy? What if no one here buys milk and I look like a weirdo? I hope the ATM machine doesn't eat my card... then I'd really be in a bind. What if my bus card doesn't swipe properly. I'd better have cash in hand just in case. And on and on...

But today I started to feel like a normal, sane person again. I walked through the underground mall without wondering who was staring at me. I stopped to check out some shoes and even asked how much they were. I went to the bank to deposit some money and laughed at how worried I was before. And, I boarded the bus without worrying about looking like a fool. I'm starting to feel at home.

A couple weeks ago my co-teacher approached me about taking a side job teaching a Saturday conversation class twice a month at a third middle school. Drawn by the extra money (I was to get about $26 and hour), I said yes. I didn't want to give up my weekends, but I would still have every other weekend free. It occurred to me that this may not be within the bounds of my contract, as I am barred from taking any part-time jobs or private tutoring gigs outside of my assigned schools. But since it was at another public middle school and was offered to me by my co-teacher, I went with it and signed the contract this past Thursday.

I was promptly invited to go to Seoul with some friends over the weekend and started to regret . my decision. True, I have half of my weekends free but what if the other half is the cool half? But, I had signed the contract so I tried to fill my head with what I could do with the extra $150 a month. Go shopping, I thought. But Saturday is the best shopping day since I lesson plan on Sunday. True, I will have extra spending money, but I won't have as much time to spend it. Hmmmm. My brain went on like this for hours. I am notoriously bad at making up my mind. But before you tell me what a pain that type of person is, just imagine being one for a minute. Should I have? Shouldn't I have? Will I regret it? Will I get another chance to go to Seoul? What if I just don't show up... what can they do? Eventually, in true Korean style, I just stopped worrying about it and decided to let it be. Something I am getting better and better at.

The next morning when I arrived at school, things seemed tohave worked themselves out. All because I let it be. Hey! This Korean go with the flow thing is really working out! My co-teacher turned to me and said she had some bad news. The vice-principal had pulled out my contract and located where it said I could not work side-jobs and said I could not work at any other school but the two I was assigned to. Oh, bummer. That's too bad. My co-teacher then told me that although the vice principal had said this, she had "spoken" to the Daejeon Office of Education (technically my employer) and they had said it was okay. It sounded fishy to me, but it got even fishier. She told me I should keep the contract with the third school, just pretend I'm not working there in front of the vice principal. He is too busy to know anything, she said. I told her I wasn't sure if I was comfortable deceiving the vice principal, but agreed to go ahead and teach the first Saturday class since they were relying on me. I know what you're thinking. That I just wanted to get out of the whole thing and was using this uncomfortable with deceptetion thing as a handy excuse. In a way, yes. That extra money was looking less and less appealing as the day wore on. My students had a major case of Friday cabin fever (which is odd to me since they all go to class on Saturday anyway) and weren't paying attention in class at all. I felt like a crummy teacher for not being able to keep control, and all I wanted to do was sleep. But, I wouldn't be able to this weekend. At least not Saturday. I'd have to be up by 7am again.

And I was. Well, it was more like 7:45 but let's go by when my alarm actually went off. The Korean English teacher from the new school picked me up at 8. She told me that she didn't want me to be uncomfortable teaching at her school, but it was just was my vice-principal likes me so much he didn't want to share me with another school. Really? I was flattered. In that case, I really don't want to pull the wool over his eyes. To settle things, I told her I would need to talk to the Office of Education about the situation and then decide if I can continue teaching there after today.

Then came the lesson. I'll admit, I didn't over-prepare, but I had a couple games and activities to fill the 3 hour class. By the end of it though, I had made up my mind. I don't care if the Office of Education tells me that it's the best idea in the world to fool ,y principal. Count me out!

And now I will mention that the school is an all boys' middle school. I had a total of 11 fifteen year old boys (actually 13 years old if you go by the standard age system). I couldn't get them all quiet at the same time for more than 20 seconds. The only thing that went mildly according to plan was English conversation Battleship (a genius invention I found on www.eatyourkimchi.com). Aside from that hour, it was a lot of punching, throwing paper airplanes, reading computer game manuals, etc. Not a lot of practicing English. Then at the end, they all said Bye, teacher and gave me a cupcake and a soda. These kids are geniuses. They misbehave and give you hell, then do something really cute. It reminds me of that Sour Patch Kids candy commercial. First their sour, then they're sweet. Nonetheless, after teaching 20 periods a week at my regular schools, I just don't have the time or energy to take on this challenge.

If for no other reason than the sake of my sanity, I must let this opportunity go. One can always use more money. But one can also always use the weekend.

Bills and letting it be

I got a slew of bills in my mailbox (actually it's more like a cubby) today. All in Korean, of course. I brought them to school and asked my co-teacher to help me with them. She told me I needed to pay the cable bill at the bank and not to worry about the rest of them. So... I won't. At home I'd be freaking out about getting all my bills paid on time. Here, if they tell me to "let it be" for now, then I'm happy to obey. Not sure when I'll be able to go to the bank to pay that cable bill since banks close at 4pm and I'm still at work then, but I'm just going to let it be.

So in many ways I'm content just letting other people tell me what to do. In other ways, it'really frustrating. Small tasks are often really big pains when you don't speak the language. Like finding index cards, for instance. Last night I went in search of a pack of index cards for some flashcards I needed for a lesson today. No luck, even in the 5 story stationary/office supply store. Either they really don't have index cards in Korea, or they don't call them card-uh. I was pretty pissed off by the time I got home. And to top it off my clothes have been falling apart. I can't blame this one on Korea, but it has happened twice in the same week to new clothes! First, the hem of my black pants came out on the way home from school. (I will blame this on the tailor I went to at home right before I came- the Golden Needle in Alameda if you're interested). Then yesterday the slit in my pencil skirt tore to twice it's original size. At least it wasn't my top that split open. In general, you're more likely to see a butt cheek than a collar bone here. Hopefully my rinky-dink drugstore sewing kit will be enough to patch up my work wardrobe. I'm nowhere near ready to venture into a Korean tailor. I do get paid tomorrow and have been itching to go shopping in the underground maze of shops by my house, but I should probably wait to spend until I see what bills I really will have to pay.

One month mark

Oh, Hayley. You didn't actually think you could outsmart culture shock, did you?

No, I hadn't forgotten Spain and the infamous choque cultural. The utter bewilderment I felt at the lack of urgency when my bathtub was falling through the ceiling of my two story apartment. The relief turned annoyance at my teacher's casual attendance to Feminist Literature class... I just thought that with enough mental preparation and awareness, this time I could avoid all (or at least most) of the frustration, homesickness, and even anger that all the novice expats complain about. While my adventure has not suddenly taken a turn for the worst, and I can't pinpoint any single negative event, this week as a whole has opened the door to the inevitability of some rough times to come. I can't recall the exact time table of the foreigner's experience abraod, with its various peaks and valleys, but something tells me I'm right on schedule. Today is the one month mark and the honeymoon period is beginning to end.

I prepared myself for the food. I prepared to be stared at. I prepared myself to get lost, to have a crappy apartment, to get lonely, to be misunderstood by my students. But I failed to expect that the things that will be the most difficult are the ones you don't expect at all. I claim to be so open-minded and in love with exploring cultural differences, but this past month, while I've been delighting in Korean culture, my American brain (and heart) has been biding its time. I've been reminded that I do not come to another country as a sponge or an eyeglass, happily absorbing and examining the people and their ways. I come as an active bearer of my own culture. So confident in my communication background and knowledge of intercultural theory (seek to describe, not to explain), I truly thought I could be... a microscope for a year.

Last week we were told that all new Native English Teachers in Daejeon will need to participate in a three week training period Monday through Friday from 5-7pm. The training is intended to maximize our co-teaching abilities. Our co-teachers, who have far too much "administrative work" need not attend. Throughout this first week we listened to a couple Korean English teachers share some experiences and sample lessons, and watched videos of "effective" co-teaching. All the while, I've been trying to figure out the point of it, searching for the ultimate message of the program. Most of the models presented thus far have showed the Native English Teacher teaching right alongside the Korean English Teacher. So, I asked today, is the idea that we should strive to have a 50-50 teaching balance with our co-teacher? If so, then I'm failing miserably because the majority of my co-teachers stand in back with their discipline sticks and correct papers while I teach. The response from the instructor? A confused No.

But, seriously, if I'm to give up every evening for 3 weeks then is it too much to know why? A training session for co-teaching you say? Well, I don't feel I'm being trained to co-teach one way or the other. We're merely just "discussing" co-teaching, and not reaching any concrete conclusions about it. If you don't have any message for me, then can I go home for dinner?

Then it hit me. How American of me to desire, nay to demand, that there be a definite agenda behind any mandatory gathering. In the US, we are taught to write essays that clearly support one opinion. State your opinion, present the other side (briefly), give sufficient supporting details to back up your point of view, and make a powerful conclusion. In Korea, students learn to write in a circular manner. There is never an ultimate answer to any question. There is no winning the argument. A standard essay in Korea, much the same as I've found this training session, is just a discussion. I say, get to the point. They say, the point?

It seems whether I like it or not, I'm going to bring American culture, values, and logic to the table. I came prepared to discover and open up to the differences between the United States and Korea. That's one of the reasons I chose an Eastern country. I should be pleasantly surprised then that the differences run far wider and deeper than anyone, including a goofy English teacher on a culture trip, could prepare for.

Bathroom Talk

I went to my first Korean lesson this past weekend and am pleased to say that things are beginning to click. I'm starting to actually recognize sentence structure and separate syllables I hear into words. Even better, I'm getting used to the pronunciation. What seemed like mouthfulls of the same awkward sounds are slowly becoming familiar and pronounceable chunks. You really have to train your mouth to create a whole new set of sounds.

The class is very informal and meets Saturday afternoons at an English Cafe where Korean students usually go to learn and practice English. In small groups we basically learn what we want to know. I wanted to know how to say Where is the bathroom? So, I learned it. And I've been repeating it in my head, along with a few other phrases, ever since. And so far they've stuck! I knew my co-teacher would ask me what I learned today since I told her I was going so I wanted to have a few things down pat to impress her with. I would say the most frustrating thing about learning Korean (albeit haphazardly) has been trying to make the words and phrases stick. This goes back to familiarity however. The more my ear becomes accustomed to the sounds and my tongue to the production of the sounds, the more I'm remembering. Bowing for greetings, putting my side-dishes in the correct spots on my lunch tray, and using chopsticks are all also becoming more familiar and I don't even think twice about these things now.

Back to bathrooms, as today was Monday and I was at my secondary school to teach, I was reminded of a topic I meant to address last week but never got to- the bathrooms. Difference between my main school and secondary school- the bathrooms. My main school's first floor bathroom is covered in potted plants and while the smell of decaying plant is anything but pleasant, I would almost prefer an actual jungle to the bathrooms at my Monday/Tuesday school. They are the unavoidable non-western toilets I'd read about in travel books and expatriate blogs. In plain terms, the squatters. There are stalls, but in place of toilets are horizontal urinals on the ground. Yes, I've looked in all the stalls and on every floor. That's all there is. And this is the school with the smart-touch board and 3 mounted flatscreen TVs in it's specialty English Lab (a picture of which I chose to include in place of one of the bathroom). It's a wonder. But, I'm taking it in as part of the experience. If it's the real Korea, then I'm happy to live with it. Just glad I get normal toilets for at least 3 out of the 5 school days.

And the truth is, the students make everything worth it. I found myself cracking up throughout my lessons today. The students are just so silly and jovial, especially at this school, and their laughter is contagious. I left early during cleaning period today to open a second bank account so I can finally get a cell phone (long story). I walked out to pop music blaring in the halls and girls happily sloshing mops down stairs and falling out the windows shouting Bye, Sullivan! at the top of their lungs. I smiled and thought of how hard it will be to leave them. Especially since more and more I'm thinking I will continue to teach back in the US, and I know I will never find a school like this at home.

How is the weather in Korea?

Snowing, actually. Since my apartment window looks straight out to another building, I was shocked to see snow piled on top of cars and along the roads this morning when I got outside. I though it rather fitting for the lesson on weather that I'd been preparing. How is the weather in Korea? Crazy. I've finally made some sense of the 5 umbrellas that were left in a cabinet in my one-person apartment. You never know when it will rain... or snow. So, one umbrella at each school, one in my bag and two for when I inevitably leave one on the subway. I'm all set.

Unfortunately I have a camera curse and always abandon my camera on days when I could have used it. My bag has been getting more and more stuffed each day so to save space my camera got the boot this morning. I immediately regretted my decision when I got outside as I would have liked a picture of my street with a pretty layer of frosting over it. I said before that the city looks better in good light. I'll add to that now- white is it's color. It was still lightly snowing this evening so hopefully it will look the same tomorrow.

I was able to leave early from school today with my co-teacher to go the immigration office and pick up my alien registration card. The bus was packed with middle and high school students. I'm able to identify their school by the color of their plaid. So, although out of the 400+ students I teach I have memorized two names, I know which girls go to my schools at least. They wave and try to work out in giggly Korean how to ask me a question in English and then push one of the braver girls at me. I'm here to get them to speak English so I'm doing my job just by riding the bus.

Later on at the cell phone store my co-teacher and I sat around for over an hour waiting for them to activate new my phone. I had a cup of sugar with coffee and listened to people speak Korean. Suddenly a man in hospital wear dragging an IV stand with him rushed in. It was finally my turn to stare at someone. But no one, including the 2 clerks, acted like anything was odd about this. From the looks of things the guy was there to pay his phone bill. He handed over some bills, dropped the change on the little round plate on his IV (no pockets in hospital pants) and left. Back to the hospital I hope. There's another picture I would like to have taken- man in white cotton hospital set connected to an IV, clanking down the slushy sidewalk in the snow.

View from the hill

Today was my first day at my second school. It was a bit sunnier than it has been so I was able to take some decent photos and included a few that I took from the 4th floor. This city is a little like me... it looks so much better in good lighting.

The vice-principal from my first school drove me over and introduced me to to the Principal and English teachers at the new school. It is a strange thing being introduced when you don't know what is being said. He could have been saying, she's a pretty girl but hasn't got a clue so good luck to you for all I know. During the ten minutes of them talking about me, I sat there and sipped my sugar with 3 granules of coffee and struggled to make out a few words- Sullivan, California, Seohwan (the district I live in). As uncomfortable as this may seem (especially since I don't know whether I need to actually look at the person who is technically asking me a question), it is oddly liberating. I can sit there with a dumb look on my face for a perfectly good reason. In the teacher's lounge I can completely zone out and not worry about anything being said. Actually, I will mention that it appears that no one actually pays attention when the important people are talking (i.e., the Principal or Vice Principal). I am the only one who looks up when they address the teachers and I don't even understand a word that's being said. I guess it's a sign of rebellion to look a superior in the eye. Everyone sort of just carries on with their work throughout the speech. As usual I quickly follow suit and turn my face back to my computer, but this is one thing I will never get used to. Directly giving the impression that you are not listening is simply... well, foreign.

The students were thankfully a bit calmer at this school but perhaps the shock has just worn off and I'm slowly becoming immune to their exhausting energy. Like the constant sound of water flowing through pipes and the refrigerator gurgling in my apartment all night long, the shrieks and giggles have become part of the soundtrack of my Korean life.

A couple of tips

Not much energy to write anything special today. I would love to take a relaxing shower after a long day at work, but showers have become remarkably less appealing to me since moving into my apartment. Having to hold the shower head while standing in front of the sink and inevitably soaking the entire bathroom is not very soothing.

So, I will just offer up a few tips about Korea from my experience thus far:

1) Chopsticks go on the right.

2) Bare feet are out of the question (I'm waiting to see how this plays out come summertime).

3) Mealtime is for eating. Don't expect more than a dixie-cup size beverage. Unless of course Soju is on hand in which case you will have a shot glass size.

4) The little puffy mats in front of the shoe shelves everywhere are for you to stand on as you take your shoes off. Let's call them transition mats. Step out of your shoes, onto the mat, then into the room you are entering.

5)If you don't know your blood type, find out! They will ask you.

6) If you don't like your age, be prepared to give a different one... often. And, in Korea, you are 2 years older than you thought you were. Sorry.

7) Don't be put off if a Korean tells you you'd better do something. You'd better leave early for work. It would be better if you took this route. This is thought of as a way to make a polite suggestion in English. Clash of cultures here.

8) Don't put your rice in the soup bowl.

9) Like sweet coffee. The little packets of instant coffee that you just add water to are convenient, but 75% sugar here.

10) Be prepared to sing. I haven't had to yet, but sooner or later I will have to sing for my students. Karaoke is popular to say the least.

First day of school

All I can say is, if you don't like meat/seafood/drinking you can get the hell out. Of Korea that is. My first day of work began at 7:30 am when I arrived with my co-teacher. She picked me up in a taxi so we wouldn't be late. It was an early day because there was an opening ceremony with the Principal and faculty. All the new teachers, including me (and thankfully my co-teacher who stayed by my side), were introduced and had to say a few words.... in Korean. I'm pretty sure no one could make out what I read off the post-it note in the palm of my hand. We then had to issue another greeting to the students via video broadcast and walk up to the adjoining High School and meet the faculty there. Everyone smiled and one teacher with some English skills shouted, "Nice to meet you, Sullivan!" They call me Sullivan as last names come first in Korea. And apparently Helen Keller is a popular story in Korea because everyone keeps mentioning her teacher Ann Sullivan when they learn my name.

I didn't teach any classes today. Actually, starting next week I will be teaching at my other middle school on Monday and Tuesday. But, if the girls are as cute and excited as the ones I met today then I'll be just fine. In between classes pairs of students came into the teachers' office and talked to the teachers. I have no idea what this is all about, but I just keep thinking of how the teacher's lounge was forbidden unless of emergency in school at home. Even knocking on the door at recess or lunch was nerve-wracking. Well, here they just waltz on in. They all bowed and said hello to me if I looked at them. Most then giggled and scurried away but a few outgoing ones spoke a few words to me in English. Wow, your eyes!! How old are you? They really are adorable in their plaid uniforms (yes, public school uniforms) and they all share the same longish, thick bowl cut. I am excited to get in the classroom.

A couple of things I must mention for those curious about differences between school in the States and in Korea. First, there is an entire period devoted to cleaning. The students showed up again in the teachers' lounge, swept around our feet and washed our coffee mugs, watered the plants around the school (and there are a lot- like 50 potted plants on the ground in the bathroom), and did whatever other duties were assigned to them. And they did it with a smile. Squeals and giggles persisted for the entire hour. Second, teachers keep toothbrushes in a medicine cabinet in the bathroom and brush their teeth after lunch. Third, everybody bows- constantly. Fourth, the principal and vice principal are god.

So, I was a bit nervous when I found out there was an all-faculty dinner with the principals after school today. We'd been warned about eating/drinking customs throughout orientation. Never refuse a drink offered to you by an elder, accept everything with two hands, never pour your own drink... But, it wasn't nearly as rigid as I expected. How could it be with 13 bottles of soju circulating the tables? The vice principal was delighted that I opted for shots of soju instead of soda. I later made the mistake of turning down a second bowl of seafood stew and he told me (in Korean) that you must eat as much as possible in Korea. This is tough when you're sitting on the floor with legs folded in a tight pencil skirt that's digging into your full stomach, but I took seconds. After bulgogi (beef), vegetables, mystery seafood, and broth to your heart's content, they bring you an individual pot of rice. And, you eat everything again, this time mixed with rice.

Propped on a thin pillow amidst little bowls of saucy vegetables, steaming pots of meat, and shot glasses and green bottles rapidly swapping hands, all I could think was I still can't believe I'm here. That, and I'm so glad it's a short week.

Home sweet home

The past two days have been pretty overwhelming. But, aside from a few tears, a couple "What the hell am I doing here's?" and some lost in translations, I'm doing well. I arrived in Daejeon by bus on Friday. I was picked up by my co-teacher and two other administrators from the school I will be teaching at. They immediately drove me to the local immigration office to apply for my alien registration card, then brought me to my apartment where one frantically tried to set up my internet while another started scrubbing out my refrigerator with toilet paper. I just stood there in my socks in the middle of the yellow linoleum floor wondering how in the world I had gotten to this place. If it weren't for a few key things, I may have had a meltdown later when I was left alone for my first night in my little yellow shoe-box.

1) An english teacher had lived in the apartment before me and left some handy things. (Teaching books, a hairdryer that fits the socket here, a pot and utensils, and some cleaning supplies). It was nothing I couldn't buy later on my own but when my co-teacher and crew whisked me away to Home Plus superstore 15 minutes after first entering my new apartment and asked me what I needed, I was way to shocked and overwhelmed to even begin thinking about what I needed. What do I need? Howbout my mom to come over and unpack all my stuff and set it all up for me and then take me to Big Lots.

2) They got the internet working for me! It isn't wireless and the browser keeps coming up in all Korean even though I checked the box to " Always translate this page" but with no cell phone and no idea where I was in relation to... well, anything, internet access was (and still is) heaven. At orientation they had warned us that we wouldn't have internet for a few weeks so I am one of the lucky ones.

3) I am one of the lucky ones. My co-teacher has done way more than required and expected to make sure I have everything I need. After Home Plus my co-teacher and one of the other men (I'm still unsure of who he actually is- his business card said school general manager) took me to dinner, bought me some pastries to eat for breakfast, and got me a huge jug of water (no one drinks tap water here even though I think it would be fine). The next morning my co-teacher met me at my house, showed me the way to school, took me to the supermarket, showed me the subway system, and took me to lunch. Her English vocabulary is very good, but her conversation is not quite fluent. This, and the fact that the two of us seem to share the same reservation in new company, made for some awkward silences, which have since become less and less. Today she met me again so that I could show her the way to school without her leading me (she keeps testing me about where I live and what subway station I'm near, etc, etc). We talked almost the whole way. Then I took her to lunch! Rather than splitting bills here, Koreans take turns treating. And, it's typical to order 2-3 things between 2 people and share them. So, we shared a pizza and some seafood pasta. It's hard not to feel like friends after eating from the same dish.

So, while I still have so many questions and no idea what to expect come Tuesday when I start teaching, I am so grateful my co-teacher turned out to be nice and generous and truly interested in helping me. Since I first decided to come to Korea, people have been telling me I am brave, but it has definitely meant the most coming from my co-teacher.