Christmas is not really a big deal in Korea. Although about half the population is Christian and the other half is Buddhist - roughly. Christmas has definitely not reached the level of commercialism as the U.S. and other Western countries.
Students and employees only get the day of Christmas off from school or work and it is not a family holiday. People spend the day with their significant others or friends, rather than family. It's much more like Valentine's Day is celebrated in the U.S.
I had plans to spend Christmas in Seoul with friends. There was a "12 Pubs of Christmas" Party in Seoul that I was soooo looking forward to.
However, given that I had spent the two weeks before Christmas sick as a dog and I was sporting a wicked ear infection and a nearly-ruptured eardrum, I thought better of spending Christmas with 10 1/2 million of my nearest and dearest in Seoul.
Instead I dogsat for a couple of my friends who went home and went to Seoul for the holiday. I spent the day watching movies and polishing off a nice bottle of Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon. It was quite blissful, actually. It even snowed on the evening of Christmas! I was so excited!!!!
Would have been really fun to hit those 12 pubs though.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
A Battle of the Sickest
I've been quite sick for a couple weeks. I've been hacking, dealing with a headache and fever and blowing my nose every 2 seconds.
I've had to go to the doctor twice, which is so much fun when neither you nor the doctor speak the other's language, and I have to go again on Monday. I've been on two rounds of antibiotics. I had a fever and have an ear infection. I still can't hear out of my right ear. This is only the second ear infection I've had in my life. I never had an ear infection when I was a kid. Shit is actually oozing out of my ear. I've never had anything ooze out of any of my orifices and, on my sickest day, Agnes says I absolutely must teach my 8-9:30 p.m. adult class. I had to attend my 7-8:30 a.m. class that morning, but I was able to skip my classes during the afternoon. I guess I should be thankful I got out of working during the day.
Agnes kept calling my phone starting at about 6:30 p.m. and I ignored the calls because I was trying to sleep. Literally two minutes after her last call I hear a bang on my apartment door. Guess who it was?! Agnes ran over to my apartment because she "thought I may have fallen down." Umm, don't you think if I was sick and weak enough to have fallen down then I'm probably too sick to lead an English class for two hours? Just a thought.
She said there was absolutely no way around it, I absolutely had to be there to teach the class. She couldn't teach it because she had something to do, she said.
"We need to cancel it then," I say.
She had a look of absolute shock and confusion, like the idea didn't even occur to her.
"We absolutely can not cancel the class, the students won't be able to make it up," she said.
My lack of caring could not be conveyed in a convincing enough manner for her.
"You absolutely have to be there," Agnes added. "All the Korean teachers were complaining all day about how long their day was."
I teach a 45-minute class for each teacher each day. They each had to work an extra 45 minutes more than their normal schedule because I had a fever and funky goo oozing from my throbbing ear. They come to work at 2:30 p.m. and leave at 5:30 p.m. or, at the latest, 6:30 p.m. every day. And they were complaining.
Are you kidding me?
I start some days at 7 a.m. and don't get out of there until 9:30 p.m. every night. Did I mention something is oozing from my head?
I said to Agnes, "Well, I guess since you're clearly not giving me an option, I have to be there. This is ridiculous, but I'll see you at 8."
With that, she stood right up, said, "Ok, thanks Erika," and she left my apartment. "Be sure to lock your door behind me."
If I had the strength I would have had the door hit her on her way out.
I want to hurt her.
I get to the school a few minutes before my 8 p.m. class and Agnes tells me I have a new student in the class tonight. For some reason this was just enough to set me over the edge.
I completely unleashed on Agnes. I was screaming at her saying it was asinine and completely ridiculous that I was being forced to teach this class when I was as sick as I was and could barely stand . She kept trying to speak, but I kept talking over her. I went on about how I thought it was ludicrous that the other teachers were complaining about how they had to work an extra 45 minutes that day. Agnes said that I get paid more than the other teachers and I told her I should get paid more than them, I work twice as many hours as they do and my hours are far more spread out and sporadic.
She just kept smiling at me, which I know is part of the Korean culture, but it really irritated me. You are also not supposed to disagree with an elder or a boss. You are supposed to go along with whatever they say. I clearly don't operate that way. Apparently that's the American in me. Agnes is 33 and my boss. Double whammy. But I didn't care, I was furious.
I told her that I was not happy about the situation and I was feeling very much like I was being taken advantage of, but clearly that didn't matter to her.
Then I left her standing there and attempted to teach my class.
After the class was finally over, I felt a little bad about the way I had spoken to Agnes. But, the feeling quickly passed and I made my way back to my apartment to pass out again.
I've had to go to the doctor twice, which is so much fun when neither you nor the doctor speak the other's language, and I have to go again on Monday. I've been on two rounds of antibiotics. I had a fever and have an ear infection. I still can't hear out of my right ear. This is only the second ear infection I've had in my life. I never had an ear infection when I was a kid. Shit is actually oozing out of my ear. I've never had anything ooze out of any of my orifices and, on my sickest day, Agnes says I absolutely must teach my 8-9:30 p.m. adult class. I had to attend my 7-8:30 a.m. class that morning, but I was able to skip my classes during the afternoon. I guess I should be thankful I got out of working during the day.
Agnes kept calling my phone starting at about 6:30 p.m. and I ignored the calls because I was trying to sleep. Literally two minutes after her last call I hear a bang on my apartment door. Guess who it was?! Agnes ran over to my apartment because she "thought I may have fallen down." Umm, don't you think if I was sick and weak enough to have fallen down then I'm probably too sick to lead an English class for two hours? Just a thought.
She said there was absolutely no way around it, I absolutely had to be there to teach the class. She couldn't teach it because she had something to do, she said.
"We need to cancel it then," I say.
She had a look of absolute shock and confusion, like the idea didn't even occur to her.
"We absolutely can not cancel the class, the students won't be able to make it up," she said.
My lack of caring could not be conveyed in a convincing enough manner for her.
"You absolutely have to be there," Agnes added. "All the Korean teachers were complaining all day about how long their day was."
I teach a 45-minute class for each teacher each day. They each had to work an extra 45 minutes more than their normal schedule because I had a fever and funky goo oozing from my throbbing ear. They come to work at 2:30 p.m. and leave at 5:30 p.m. or, at the latest, 6:30 p.m. every day. And they were complaining.
Are you kidding me?
I start some days at 7 a.m. and don't get out of there until 9:30 p.m. every night. Did I mention something is oozing from my head?
I said to Agnes, "Well, I guess since you're clearly not giving me an option, I have to be there. This is ridiculous, but I'll see you at 8."
With that, she stood right up, said, "Ok, thanks Erika," and she left my apartment. "Be sure to lock your door behind me."
If I had the strength I would have had the door hit her on her way out.
I want to hurt her.
I get to the school a few minutes before my 8 p.m. class and Agnes tells me I have a new student in the class tonight. For some reason this was just enough to set me over the edge.
I completely unleashed on Agnes. I was screaming at her saying it was asinine and completely ridiculous that I was being forced to teach this class when I was as sick as I was and could barely stand . She kept trying to speak, but I kept talking over her. I went on about how I thought it was ludicrous that the other teachers were complaining about how they had to work an extra 45 minutes that day. Agnes said that I get paid more than the other teachers and I told her I should get paid more than them, I work twice as many hours as they do and my hours are far more spread out and sporadic.
She just kept smiling at me, which I know is part of the Korean culture, but it really irritated me. You are also not supposed to disagree with an elder or a boss. You are supposed to go along with whatever they say. I clearly don't operate that way. Apparently that's the American in me. Agnes is 33 and my boss. Double whammy. But I didn't care, I was furious.
I told her that I was not happy about the situation and I was feeling very much like I was being taken advantage of, but clearly that didn't matter to her.
Then I left her standing there and attempted to teach my class.
After the class was finally over, I felt a little bad about the way I had spoken to Agnes. But, the feeling quickly passed and I made my way back to my apartment to pass out again.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Birthday Shenanigans
I've had a special request to reiterate my birthday activities, so I will do my best to piece the events together.
Editor's Note: Names and identifying characteristics have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent and certain elements have been left out entirely...
I met up with a couple friends of mine in the early morning to catch the bus to Seoul. I had plans of roaming around the city and my two friends had plans of heading to jiu jitsu class. We parted on our merry little ways once we got to Seoul, with plans to meet up that evening.
I didn't really have a plan or destination. I just started walking and if a street looked interesting I would head down it. I walked all over the city and hiked up to the N. Seoul Tower, walked around a cathedral where there appeared to be a wedding taking place, went to a giant bookstore and basically ambled along through the streets and subway lines of Seoul.
I had plans to meet up with my friends at a foreign/Korean social gathering near a university district of Seoul. The meeting is held every month and it brings Korean people and foreigners living in S. Korea together to talk English. It helps the foreigners meet new people and gives the Koreans an opportunity to practice their English. Of course beer is involved.
I met up with my friends and then was immediately sat at a table next to two Korean women and an incredibly annoying guy from somewhere in the U.S. He introduced himself to me and didn't shut up all night. I kept trying to escape and move from table to table, yet he always managed to hunt me down.
He asked for my number and, attempting to pull my usual ploy, gave him faulty digits. He then tried calling me so "I would have his number." Crap. When he realized he wasn't calling my number, I had to pull the 'ole "What number did you call? Oh! You punched in a 9 instead of an 8." Damn. Now he's got my number. I did save his number under the pretense that if he did call or text I could avoid that call from "Obnoxious John" like the plague and not just answer blindly.
I ended up playing drinking games with a couple Korean women and a guy with an accent that I couldn't quite place and who spent way too much time at the gym and drinking Creatine.
The bar that was hosting the Korean/Foreign social club wanted us all out of there at 9:30 p.m. so we decided to take our party elsewhere. We ended up going to a restaurant that someone at the social club had called ahead. There was food already boiling in pots on the table and bottles of soju lining the tables. I was definitely not looking forward to the soju. It tastes terrible, literally like rubbing alcohol, and it gets you crazy drunk crazy fast. And don't even get me started on the hangover...
I was sitting next to my Irish friend, Bernie, and this girl can drink. She also knew it was my birthday the next day. So, naturally, we had to start celebrating now and then really get the party started at midnight. B and I were sitting in front of a few American guys who were stationed in Korea with the Air Force. the four of us decided drinking four shots of soju in a row was a really great idea. B and I then decided mutually that we should really slow down on the soju if we wanted to make it to midnight.
There were simmering pots of food in the center of the tables. There were mussels and floating pig skin. The skin is soggy and spongy and not the least bit appealing, so I stuck with the mussels.
During the "soju break-time" I moved down the table to talk to my friend, Jack. He's generally a quiet guy and he and I have had many interesting converstations about our experiences in Korea and elsewhere.
While chatting with Jack, the clock struck midnight and the entire restaurant stood up and sang "Happy Birthday." Quite unexpected to have all the patrons at a restaurant stand up and sing happy birthday to you in downtown Seoul. Then my friend, Simon, comes over to me, grabs me around the waist, smiles broadly and said it was time for "Birthday Bumps."
Huh?!
Six guys came over to me, grab various parts of my body and toss me up into the air... 28 times, once for each birthday. All I could do was laugh and scream as all the men counted up to 28 with each heave of my body into the air. Simon had been planning to do this the whole night and had quietly organized the "bumpers." I don't think they quite realized how heavy I am - I am most definitely not a petite Korean chick.
Thoroughly embarrassed, they set me down and I inquire about the health of their backs. I sit back down in front of Jack and B ends up joining us. We get back on the soju horse. It always sounds like such a great idea at the time.
We eventually run out of credit at the restaurant and decide to move on. "Obnoxious John" decides he wants to join us to our next destination. I want to go wherever he doesn't. There's six of us who plan our next move. We get in a huddle and decide our next party stop. Obnoxious John gets in a cab with a couple other people, we tell him a destination and then we get in a cab behind him and head to the other side of the city. Alcohol can bring out the asshole in everyone.
We get to the third and, thank god, final bar and order a 3-liter jug of beer. I took one swig of beer and immediately decided I was done. When I start getting dizzy and the world starts looking like a kaliedescope, it's time to call it a night. I had to close one eye to focus -- never a good sign.
I replaced the beer with water and the rest of the crew kept ordering more jugs, except Simon, he decided he was done, too.
It was about 2:30-3 a.m. when we got back on the subway, make a short pit-stop at KFC and made our way to the hostel Simon had so intelligently booked for the evening. None of the rest of us had made any plans for where we were going to stay that night - just figured it would all work out.
We get to the room and there is a keypad where we need to punch in a code to get access to the room. The code was 1,2,3,4, not too difficult to remember no matter what state you are in. Simon kept punching in the code over and over again, but the door would not open. Finally some very nice guy sleeping in the room opened the door for us.
The six of us pile into the room at about 3:30 in the morning, still drunk off our asses, while there are three complete strangers sleeping in the room.
We're stumbling along, trying to be quiet, obviously not being quiet, and make our way to any beds or floor we can find. There are three bunkbeds on the main floor and then there is a loft with three single beds.
I go climbing up the ladder to the loft and realize how hot it is up there and make my way back down the ladder. How I didn't eat shit down the ladder still amazes me.
There were only top bunks available, so B, Jack and I had to climb over sleeping travelers to get to the beds. B accidently dropped the backpack she was carrying from the top bunk and it made a loud crash. The chick sleeping on the bottom bunk of my bed yells "Jesus Christ!" sits straight up and smacks her forehead on the bottom of the top bunk. Then she yells, "Who's bag is that?!" We all fell silent, trying desperately to stifle our laughter.
The chick was not impressed with our drunken wake-up call. I had to sleep above this pissed-off woman and climb over her stuff to get to my bed for the night.
After shaking the metal bed sufficiently in the climb up to the top bunk, I finally peacefully passed out.
I woke up to two men talking and rummaging about the kitchen at an ungodly hour -- 10 a.m. The axe splitting my head suddenly reminded me why I should really stop drinking excessive amounts of soju until the wee hours of the morning.
I opened up one eye just enough to let a slit of light in. Simon and bottom bunk #2 guy were talking. Simon was entirely too chipper for this time of the morning.
I opened my mouth and I swear dust flew out. My raspy, dry voice said only one word... "Waahhter," and I outstretched one hand from the confines of the top bunk. Luckily the pissed off chick in the bottom bunk had departed for the day.
Simon laughed and said, "For you darling, anything." He placed a coffee mug of water in my hand and I brought the blessed necter of the Gods to my lips, sitting up as little as humanly possible.
One sip was all I could muster at that point as I laid back down on the pillow. I had to drink the mug of water in 15-minute increments. The severe altitude of the top bunk was just too much for my over-indulged state.
I was eventually laying in the fetal position around the mug of water, protecting it with every bit of energy and balance I could muster. After about three sessions of sipping I slipped back into unconciousness.
I awoke about three hours later to Jack exiting the shower. I was still wrapped around the mug of water. I rolled over and propped myself on one elbow and drained the remainder of the water into my shriveled body.
Luckily by this time of the day, the hostel was empty save for my friends and fellow over-served compatriots.
I took stock. I had lost my shirt somewhere in the room and was lying in my jeans and a tank top. I had no idea as to the whereabouts of my bag, camera, phone or coat. And there was a tender bump on my forehead. There was snoring and moaning coming from the loft and B was staring at me through slit and glassy eyes from the top bunk at the foot of my bed.
Everyone slowly departed from the loft and I made a couple comical attempts at descending the metal bunkbed ladder. I eventually located my coat, bag, camera, phone AND shirt in the loft. I had missed two phonecalls from my parents on this, my actual, birthday. I called them back attempting to piece together the evening's events. I would have to call them back after I looked at all the pictures.
The six of us eventually made our way out of the hostel the same way we came, stumbling along and fumbling under the weight of our belongings. Check-out time was 11 a.m., we finally crawled out after 2 p.m.
We headed to the subway to get to the "Wolfhound," an Irish pub in a section of Seoul called Itaewon. The jostling and over-abundance of bodies on the subway was an absolute joy. Our eyeballs looked like a roadmap and we were all sweating soju and Korean beer. Not a whole lot of talking occurred on that subway ride.
I had no idea where we were or where we were going. I just kept following the group of white people, holding on to various jackets and backpacks when necessary. We made it to the Wolfhound and praise all that is good in the world for Irish breakfasts served all day long. Eggs, hashbrowns, toast, beans (I don't even like beans), sausage and juice.
Some poor schmuck at the bar kept passing out on the bar. He was D-to-the-RUNK. Seems his party continued a bit longer than ours. He had a full, untouched Bloody Mary on the bar in front of him, but he was sitting on the bar stool, all alone, with his head on the bar. The poor little Korean waitress was trying to tell him to move on, but he wasn't budging.
Eventually, the waitress, the bartender and one of the patrons got him out of the restaurant/bar. However, as we were walking down the stairs from the Wolfhound to go back out into the street, the poor drunkard was fully passed-out in the corner of the stairs. We all snickered at his snoring in the hallway and walked out into the rainy Sunday afternoon in Seoul.
And that is how I partied way too hard in Seoul and ended up with a wicked, but totally worth it, hangover on my 28th birthday. But I still have no idea where the bump on my forehead came from...
Editor's Note: Names and identifying characteristics have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent and certain elements have been left out entirely...
I met up with a couple friends of mine in the early morning to catch the bus to Seoul. I had plans of roaming around the city and my two friends had plans of heading to jiu jitsu class. We parted on our merry little ways once we got to Seoul, with plans to meet up that evening.
I didn't really have a plan or destination. I just started walking and if a street looked interesting I would head down it. I walked all over the city and hiked up to the N. Seoul Tower, walked around a cathedral where there appeared to be a wedding taking place, went to a giant bookstore and basically ambled along through the streets and subway lines of Seoul.
I had plans to meet up with my friends at a foreign/Korean social gathering near a university district of Seoul. The meeting is held every month and it brings Korean people and foreigners living in S. Korea together to talk English. It helps the foreigners meet new people and gives the Koreans an opportunity to practice their English. Of course beer is involved.
I met up with my friends and then was immediately sat at a table next to two Korean women and an incredibly annoying guy from somewhere in the U.S. He introduced himself to me and didn't shut up all night. I kept trying to escape and move from table to table, yet he always managed to hunt me down.
He asked for my number and, attempting to pull my usual ploy, gave him faulty digits. He then tried calling me so "I would have his number." Crap. When he realized he wasn't calling my number, I had to pull the 'ole "What number did you call? Oh! You punched in a 9 instead of an 8." Damn. Now he's got my number. I did save his number under the pretense that if he did call or text I could avoid that call from "Obnoxious John" like the plague and not just answer blindly.
I ended up playing drinking games with a couple Korean women and a guy with an accent that I couldn't quite place and who spent way too much time at the gym and drinking Creatine.
The bar that was hosting the Korean/Foreign social club wanted us all out of there at 9:30 p.m. so we decided to take our party elsewhere. We ended up going to a restaurant that someone at the social club had called ahead. There was food already boiling in pots on the table and bottles of soju lining the tables. I was definitely not looking forward to the soju. It tastes terrible, literally like rubbing alcohol, and it gets you crazy drunk crazy fast. And don't even get me started on the hangover...
I was sitting next to my Irish friend, Bernie, and this girl can drink. She also knew it was my birthday the next day. So, naturally, we had to start celebrating now and then really get the party started at midnight. B and I were sitting in front of a few American guys who were stationed in Korea with the Air Force. the four of us decided drinking four shots of soju in a row was a really great idea. B and I then decided mutually that we should really slow down on the soju if we wanted to make it to midnight.
There were simmering pots of food in the center of the tables. There were mussels and floating pig skin. The skin is soggy and spongy and not the least bit appealing, so I stuck with the mussels.
During the "soju break-time" I moved down the table to talk to my friend, Jack. He's generally a quiet guy and he and I have had many interesting converstations about our experiences in Korea and elsewhere.
While chatting with Jack, the clock struck midnight and the entire restaurant stood up and sang "Happy Birthday." Quite unexpected to have all the patrons at a restaurant stand up and sing happy birthday to you in downtown Seoul. Then my friend, Simon, comes over to me, grabs me around the waist, smiles broadly and said it was time for "Birthday Bumps."
Huh?!
Six guys came over to me, grab various parts of my body and toss me up into the air... 28 times, once for each birthday. All I could do was laugh and scream as all the men counted up to 28 with each heave of my body into the air. Simon had been planning to do this the whole night and had quietly organized the "bumpers." I don't think they quite realized how heavy I am - I am most definitely not a petite Korean chick.
Thoroughly embarrassed, they set me down and I inquire about the health of their backs. I sit back down in front of Jack and B ends up joining us. We get back on the soju horse. It always sounds like such a great idea at the time.
We eventually run out of credit at the restaurant and decide to move on. "Obnoxious John" decides he wants to join us to our next destination. I want to go wherever he doesn't. There's six of us who plan our next move. We get in a huddle and decide our next party stop. Obnoxious John gets in a cab with a couple other people, we tell him a destination and then we get in a cab behind him and head to the other side of the city. Alcohol can bring out the asshole in everyone.
We get to the third and, thank god, final bar and order a 3-liter jug of beer. I took one swig of beer and immediately decided I was done. When I start getting dizzy and the world starts looking like a kaliedescope, it's time to call it a night. I had to close one eye to focus -- never a good sign.
I replaced the beer with water and the rest of the crew kept ordering more jugs, except Simon, he decided he was done, too.
It was about 2:30-3 a.m. when we got back on the subway, make a short pit-stop at KFC and made our way to the hostel Simon had so intelligently booked for the evening. None of the rest of us had made any plans for where we were going to stay that night - just figured it would all work out.
We get to the room and there is a keypad where we need to punch in a code to get access to the room. The code was 1,2,3,4, not too difficult to remember no matter what state you are in. Simon kept punching in the code over and over again, but the door would not open. Finally some very nice guy sleeping in the room opened the door for us.
The six of us pile into the room at about 3:30 in the morning, still drunk off our asses, while there are three complete strangers sleeping in the room.
We're stumbling along, trying to be quiet, obviously not being quiet, and make our way to any beds or floor we can find. There are three bunkbeds on the main floor and then there is a loft with three single beds.
I go climbing up the ladder to the loft and realize how hot it is up there and make my way back down the ladder. How I didn't eat shit down the ladder still amazes me.
There were only top bunks available, so B, Jack and I had to climb over sleeping travelers to get to the beds. B accidently dropped the backpack she was carrying from the top bunk and it made a loud crash. The chick sleeping on the bottom bunk of my bed yells "Jesus Christ!" sits straight up and smacks her forehead on the bottom of the top bunk. Then she yells, "Who's bag is that?!" We all fell silent, trying desperately to stifle our laughter.
The chick was not impressed with our drunken wake-up call. I had to sleep above this pissed-off woman and climb over her stuff to get to my bed for the night.
After shaking the metal bed sufficiently in the climb up to the top bunk, I finally peacefully passed out.
I woke up to two men talking and rummaging about the kitchen at an ungodly hour -- 10 a.m. The axe splitting my head suddenly reminded me why I should really stop drinking excessive amounts of soju until the wee hours of the morning.
I opened up one eye just enough to let a slit of light in. Simon and bottom bunk #2 guy were talking. Simon was entirely too chipper for this time of the morning.
I opened my mouth and I swear dust flew out. My raspy, dry voice said only one word... "Waahhter," and I outstretched one hand from the confines of the top bunk. Luckily the pissed off chick in the bottom bunk had departed for the day.
Simon laughed and said, "For you darling, anything." He placed a coffee mug of water in my hand and I brought the blessed necter of the Gods to my lips, sitting up as little as humanly possible.
One sip was all I could muster at that point as I laid back down on the pillow. I had to drink the mug of water in 15-minute increments. The severe altitude of the top bunk was just too much for my over-indulged state.
I was eventually laying in the fetal position around the mug of water, protecting it with every bit of energy and balance I could muster. After about three sessions of sipping I slipped back into unconciousness.
I awoke about three hours later to Jack exiting the shower. I was still wrapped around the mug of water. I rolled over and propped myself on one elbow and drained the remainder of the water into my shriveled body.
Luckily by this time of the day, the hostel was empty save for my friends and fellow over-served compatriots.
I took stock. I had lost my shirt somewhere in the room and was lying in my jeans and a tank top. I had no idea as to the whereabouts of my bag, camera, phone or coat. And there was a tender bump on my forehead. There was snoring and moaning coming from the loft and B was staring at me through slit and glassy eyes from the top bunk at the foot of my bed.
Everyone slowly departed from the loft and I made a couple comical attempts at descending the metal bunkbed ladder. I eventually located my coat, bag, camera, phone AND shirt in the loft. I had missed two phonecalls from my parents on this, my actual, birthday. I called them back attempting to piece together the evening's events. I would have to call them back after I looked at all the pictures.
The six of us eventually made our way out of the hostel the same way we came, stumbling along and fumbling under the weight of our belongings. Check-out time was 11 a.m., we finally crawled out after 2 p.m.
We headed to the subway to get to the "Wolfhound," an Irish pub in a section of Seoul called Itaewon. The jostling and over-abundance of bodies on the subway was an absolute joy. Our eyeballs looked like a roadmap and we were all sweating soju and Korean beer. Not a whole lot of talking occurred on that subway ride.
I had no idea where we were or where we were going. I just kept following the group of white people, holding on to various jackets and backpacks when necessary. We made it to the Wolfhound and praise all that is good in the world for Irish breakfasts served all day long. Eggs, hashbrowns, toast, beans (I don't even like beans), sausage and juice.
Some poor schmuck at the bar kept passing out on the bar. He was D-to-the-RUNK. Seems his party continued a bit longer than ours. He had a full, untouched Bloody Mary on the bar in front of him, but he was sitting on the bar stool, all alone, with his head on the bar. The poor little Korean waitress was trying to tell him to move on, but he wasn't budging.
Eventually, the waitress, the bartender and one of the patrons got him out of the restaurant/bar. However, as we were walking down the stairs from the Wolfhound to go back out into the street, the poor drunkard was fully passed-out in the corner of the stairs. We all snickered at his snoring in the hallway and walked out into the rainy Sunday afternoon in Seoul.
And that is how I partied way too hard in Seoul and ended up with a wicked, but totally worth it, hangover on my 28th birthday. But I still have no idea where the bump on my forehead came from...
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Brrrrrrrrr
I'm convinced Korean people have ice running through their veins. They (or maybe it's just Agnes) refuse to turn on the heat and as soon as I do, they complain about how hot it is.
They keep all the windows and doors wide open. Meanwhile, I'm completely freezing my ass off. I'm from a cold area, I should be used to the frigidness. However, I spend the majority of the time in class complaining about how cold it is.
I drink enough hot tea in a day to drown a whale and I wear my coat and scarf all day long. Also, I walk everywhere I go so I'm constantly outside in the cold or in a cold school building.
The Korean women where tights, short skirts or shorts and high heels everywhere they go. I recently discovered how they can manage this with zero-percent body fat. The tights are lined with fleece. It's absolute genius!! But I still think I would need a little bit more padding to be walking around in the cold, snowy weather.
Thank God I brought all my snowboarding clothes. I might just start wearing that to work everyday. Screw looking cute.
They keep all the windows and doors wide open. Meanwhile, I'm completely freezing my ass off. I'm from a cold area, I should be used to the frigidness. However, I spend the majority of the time in class complaining about how cold it is.
I drink enough hot tea in a day to drown a whale and I wear my coat and scarf all day long. Also, I walk everywhere I go so I'm constantly outside in the cold or in a cold school building.
The Korean women where tights, short skirts or shorts and high heels everywhere they go. I recently discovered how they can manage this with zero-percent body fat. The tights are lined with fleece. It's absolute genius!! But I still think I would need a little bit more padding to be walking around in the cold, snowy weather.
Thank God I brought all my snowboarding clothes. I might just start wearing that to work everyday. Screw looking cute.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
My What Big Eyes You Have!!
It finally happened. I have been called fat (to my face) by a Korean. Obviously I've known that they've been saying this the whole time, just not in a language I could understand. But yesterday a student said it very clearly in English.
Actually, he said I was "fat and big," because clearly there needs to be a distinction between the two words. What I find even more humorous is that this kid would be considered obese by American standards and don't even get me started on what he would be considered by Asian standards. I'm surprised his parents let him out of the house, because Korean people are obsessively concerned with the image they portray. (Not bitter, not at all.) I'm actually shocked it took 6 weeks for this to be uttered in English in my presence.
Also, I was having lunch yesterday with my school director, Agnes, and she told me that some of the students are afraid of me because I'm so tall and because my eyes are so big. I literally laughed out loud in the middle of the restaurant.
"Well, there's really not a whole lot I can do about that," I said.
She told me to try to smile at them and be nice to them.
What the hell have I been doing for the last month and a half?!!! Yeah, ok, whatever Agnes, I'll get right on that. I highly doubt me doing anything different from what I'm currently doing will make any sort of difference in the way the Korean children view me. But thank you for this enlightening lesson on our cultural differences...
Actually, he said I was "fat and big," because clearly there needs to be a distinction between the two words. What I find even more humorous is that this kid would be considered obese by American standards and don't even get me started on what he would be considered by Asian standards. I'm surprised his parents let him out of the house, because Korean people are obsessively concerned with the image they portray. (Not bitter, not at all.) I'm actually shocked it took 6 weeks for this to be uttered in English in my presence.
Also, I was having lunch yesterday with my school director, Agnes, and she told me that some of the students are afraid of me because I'm so tall and because my eyes are so big. I literally laughed out loud in the middle of the restaurant.
"Well, there's really not a whole lot I can do about that," I said.
She told me to try to smile at them and be nice to them.
What the hell have I been doing for the last month and a half?!!! Yeah, ok, whatever Agnes, I'll get right on that. I highly doubt me doing anything different from what I'm currently doing will make any sort of difference in the way the Korean children view me. But thank you for this enlightening lesson on our cultural differences...
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Name Calling
So I've now been in South Korea for nearly 6 weeks and I've been called many things since landing in the R.O.K. (Republic of Korea).
I've been called a Meegook, which means American. I've been called a Waegook, which means foreigner. I'm pretty sure it's a bad thing that Americans get their own special variation of "gook". We don't get to be grouped with all the other foreigners like Waegooks do. Or, it could be a good thing? They do seem to like us Americans here, for the most part. I also find it troublesome that "gook" is used. Isn't that a racial slur?
I've also been called the obvious "foreigner" and I've been called a "native," as in "native English speaker." I've even been called a Yank, which still baffles me. I'm from Montana for God's sake, pretty damn far from the East coast. But I was called a Yank in Australia, too. Everyone from America is a "Yank" as soon as you leave North American soil.
But my favorite name-calling experience thus far is.... wait for it, wait for it..... a Russian. Which to the common eye, would seem slightly odd that I would be called a Russian. However, Koreans think Russians are prostitutes. Yep, the Koreans think I'm a prostitute. I'll pause for the laughter to die down...........
Please, by all means, keep going....................
Couldn't possibly be the blond hair and long legs, could it?
When I'm approached by a Korean man and asked if I'm a Russian I know to turn around and walk the other way.
I've been called a Meegook, which means American. I've been called a Waegook, which means foreigner. I'm pretty sure it's a bad thing that Americans get their own special variation of "gook". We don't get to be grouped with all the other foreigners like Waegooks do. Or, it could be a good thing? They do seem to like us Americans here, for the most part. I also find it troublesome that "gook" is used. Isn't that a racial slur?
I've also been called the obvious "foreigner" and I've been called a "native," as in "native English speaker." I've even been called a Yank, which still baffles me. I'm from Montana for God's sake, pretty damn far from the East coast. But I was called a Yank in Australia, too. Everyone from America is a "Yank" as soon as you leave North American soil.
But my favorite name-calling experience thus far is.... wait for it, wait for it..... a Russian. Which to the common eye, would seem slightly odd that I would be called a Russian. However, Koreans think Russians are prostitutes. Yep, the Koreans think I'm a prostitute. I'll pause for the laughter to die down...........
Please, by all means, keep going....................
Couldn't possibly be the blond hair and long legs, could it?
When I'm approached by a Korean man and asked if I'm a Russian I know to turn around and walk the other way.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Peace Out!
So two mornings a week I have an English class full of Korean businessmen. Despite the fact that it's at 7 a.m., it's actually a pretty fun class. The guys are pretty good at English and they are really funny. We joke frequently with each other during class.
They obviously want to know the conversational use of English and I try to work on slang words with them whenver I can fit it in.
During one lesson, we were talking about different ways to say "goodbye." I threw in "Peace Out" as a joke, as a way to bid farewell to someone. And, of course, they took to that phrase like a duck to water. They absolutely love it and they find it so funny.
Whenever the class is over they all say, "Peace out, Erika. See you next time."
Yep, just doin' what I can to further the American Pop Culture influence, baby.
They obviously want to know the conversational use of English and I try to work on slang words with them whenver I can fit it in.
During one lesson, we were talking about different ways to say "goodbye." I threw in "Peace Out" as a joke, as a way to bid farewell to someone. And, of course, they took to that phrase like a duck to water. They absolutely love it and they find it so funny.
Whenever the class is over they all say, "Peace out, Erika. See you next time."
Yep, just doin' what I can to further the American Pop Culture influence, baby.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Asian Persuasion
I was having a discussion with one of my American English teacher friends about men recently. We discussed Asian men in particular. Said friend had spent a year a couple years ago teaching in Korea and then went home for awhile before coming back to Korea to teach for a second time about 7 months ago. I expressed to her that I wasn't particularly attracted to Asian men and expressed that my year teaching English in Korea was going to be one of self-reflection, rather than focused on dating.
"I've just never been attracted to Asian men," I said unapologetically.
I just find them very effiminate and weak. I'm sorry, but is how I feel! It's hard to go from the MEN of Montana to lithe, skinny she-boys.
I have a few rules when I'm dating, however that list is getting shorter, but the ones that I stand by are: they have to weigh more than me and they have to be taller than me. I don't think I'm asking too much and perhaps it's slightly shallow, but whatever this is my fantasy, damnit.
My friend retorted: "You'll be changing your tune after spending six months here."
She dated a Korean man when she lived in Korea the first time and she said he had "a beautiful body, very feminine and pretty," she said with a chuckle.
She admitted she had never been attracted to Asian men either, but the guy had a really nice car and would take her to various points of interest throughout Korea. Gawd! I'll take the bus, thankyouverymuch.
Ummm, yeah. Not exactly what I'm looking for. Someone who looks better in a bikini than me is not someone I'm interested in dating.
"I've just never been attracted to Asian men," I said unapologetically.
I just find them very effiminate and weak. I'm sorry, but is how I feel! It's hard to go from the MEN of Montana to lithe, skinny she-boys.
I have a few rules when I'm dating, however that list is getting shorter, but the ones that I stand by are: they have to weigh more than me and they have to be taller than me. I don't think I'm asking too much and perhaps it's slightly shallow, but whatever this is my fantasy, damnit.
My friend retorted: "You'll be changing your tune after spending six months here."
She dated a Korean man when she lived in Korea the first time and she said he had "a beautiful body, very feminine and pretty," she said with a chuckle.
She admitted she had never been attracted to Asian men either, but the guy had a really nice car and would take her to various points of interest throughout Korea. Gawd! I'll take the bus, thankyouverymuch.
Ummm, yeah. Not exactly what I'm looking for. Someone who looks better in a bikini than me is not someone I'm interested in dating.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The Seoul of Korea 10/31/09
This is an incredibly late post, but I've been crazy busy!
Agnes was planning a trip to Seoul on Halloween to meet up with a friend of hers. She invited me along. I wanted to see Seoul and figure out how to get around the city. I also wanted to meet another American teacher I had been emailing throughout my first week for advice and venting.
Agnes took it upon herself to book us on a bus tour to see the sites of Seoul. We had to catch the 7 a.m. bus from Dangjin to Seoul because Agnes wanted to get to Seoul as early as humanly possible to be able to see everything.
The bus left Dangjin when it was still dark outside but the bus only took about an hour and 10 minutes. Once we got to the Seoul bus terminal, we had to catch the subway to the center of the city (fittingly named: Central City) to get to the bus tour.
When we were leaving the subway station there was a little old lady who was the turnstile attendant (wasn't aware an attendant was necessary, but I digress). My subway card was not letting me through the turnstile and Ms. Geriatric (I'd lost all respect by this point) was screaming at me in Korean. Obviously I have no idea was she was saying. She kept yelling and pointing at me. I totally could have taken her, I had a good three feet on her, but I thought better of it considering the international relations implications.
Agnes stepped in and started yelling back at the lady in Korean. The heated banter went on for quite some time with no real resolution in sight, I considered getting some popcorn. Finally the lady just waved us off to an exit that wasn't blocked by turnstiles. Why we couldn't have gone through this exit in the first place is completely beyond me. Still not entirely sure what the problem was either.
We eventually make it to the bus tour and there are only two other people on the bus. The buses depart every 30 minutes so this wasn't entirely odd.
We drive next to the Han River, which runs through the center of the city. There are little shops everywhere selling everything imaginable. It seems like every third or fourth shop is selling florescent lighting of every possible neon color. I will never figure out why one city would need that many shops selling florescent lights and light bulbs.
There are people and cars EVERYWHERE. It shocks me that there are not more collisions. I see a man in front of us on a motorcycle stacked several feet high with cardboard boxes. Taking more than one trip is obviously out of the question. I see an old man crossing the road in front of us balancing a huge wooden door on a bicycle while he walks the bicycle. The bicycle looked like it had shared the same amount of birthdays as the old man. I quietly hoped he didn't have to go too far or up a hill, could have been disastrous.
We get to our first stop, Changgyeonggung Palace, and it has started to rain. A little old lady is selling umbrellas. She wants 30,000 WON for an umbrella. I'm not paying over $20 for an umbrella! Is she nuts? There's also a giant pot of boiling beetles under her little tent of goods. I also passed on the beetles.
We get within the palace walls and there are beautiful fall colors everywhere; very vibrant reds, oranges and yellows. There was a 3,000-year-old tree and an exhibit on sundials and astronomy. The exhibit was in Korean, but I'm sure it was very interesting and informative.
Agnes didn't want to wait for the next bus to pick us up for the next stop on the tour so we decided to walk. By now it's pouring down rain. That 30,000 WON umbrella would be awesome right now. But we walked to a little convenience store and bought an umbrella for 7,000 WON. So there, Bug Lady.
We finally made it to Changdeokgung Palace but we had to go on an organized tour for that and there wasn't another one for 1 1/2 hours. We noticed there was a festival of some kind occurring down a side street, so we decided to check that out.
It turned out to be a Korean culture festival. One of the festival volunteers grabbed us and herded us to a covered tent. He wanted us to have lunch with the cast of the festival performance. Free Korean food?! Hell yeah! We ended up eating with all the performers and volunteers. We had kimchee soup that kicked ass and a whole bunch of other things that I couldn't quite identify and singed my tastebuds. But there was some pork that literally made me gag. It was slices of pork but it had ribbons of lard throughout each piece. I couldn't handle the texture and I almost vomited in the middle of the tent. Not kidding, I was gagging.
Some nice man kept insisting I share his rice wine. It was very good and helped me stomach the pork dish.
After we ate and thanked everyone for letting us eat their food we wandered into a teapot gallery. There were pictures of various Korean dignitaries on the wall of the gallery. There was a picture of the guy who gave me rice wine sitting next to a government official. We had been eating and drinking with someone really important in the Korean hierarchy and we didn't even know it!!! Still have no idea who he was though.
We eventually made it back to Changdeokgung Palace in time for the tour. By this time, it was a torrential downpour. The rain made the experience a whole lot less enjoyable. And what is up with the ancient Japanese destroying beautiful palaces in Korea? In 1592, the Japanese burned down the palace after it had been chillin' quite peacefully for almost 200 years. The palace, after being rebuilt, was destroyed by fire again in 1623 after a revolt to restore King Injo. A-holes.
The Secret Garden was beautiful and peaceful despite the dozens of tourists milling about. I really want to go back in the spring. The garden is very large and blends into the topography of the land. Artificial landscaping is kept to an absolute minimum.
On one side of the garden there is a gate called "Eosumun," which means "a fish cannot live out of water." It was a reminder that a "ruler must always consider officials." i.e. Listen to the little people. The gate led up to a building which used to be the monarchies library. I totally wanted to bust through the gate to check out the library, but getting arrested in Korea is not really on the itinerary.
There are small pavilions throughout the Secret Garden grounds. In one pavilion, there is a tablet with words from King Jeongjo enscribed: "All streams in the world have moons reflected on them, but there is only one moon in the sky. The moon in the sky is me, the king, and the streams are you, my subjects. It is the principle of the universe that the streams follow the moon."
Yeah, slightly ego-centric, but sounds a hell of a lot better than: "There's an old saying in Tennessee, I know it's in Texas, it says 'Fool me once, shame on you... if you fool me... we can't get fooled again.'"
Just sayin'.
There were other stops on our bus tour, but I was soaked to the bone and quite cold; just plain over it. Agnes and I got back on the bus and headed back to Central City. Agnes had plans to meet her friend and I had plans to attend a Halloween party with another American teacher, Michael, so Agnes and I parted ways.
While looking for the correct subway line to meet Michael, I happened upon Tim Tams. Imagine my excitement!! Tim Tams are the best cookies on the planet and I haven't seen them since I lived in Australia!!!! Abby has sent them to me a couple times from New Zealand. I actually, very audibly, exclaimed, "Tim Tams!" I got a funky stare from the clerk, clearly not appreciating my outburst. I wanted to clear the shelves of the tasty morsels, but due to the pathetic state of my wallet, decided to practice some self-control and just purchase one. But, not to worry, I made a mental note of the kiosks' location and vowed to return with my first paycheck.
I've always had an unbelievable knack for getting lost. I'm really, REALLY good at it (or bad at it, depending on if you're a glass-half-full or glass-half-empty kind of person). I have NO sense of direction and when I say, "no" I mean non-existant. It's actually gotten worse as I've gotten older too. It's never really bothered me though, I'd like to think of it as endearing. If I find the correct location the first time I'm looking for it, it actually shocks me. However, getting lost in a country where you don't speak the language, especially an Asian country where you don't speak the language, is a whole different animal and it's quite scary.
Michael told me which subway line to meet him on. I thought I was headed in the right direction, but given my knack for getting lost I thought I better ask one of the younger subway riders. I figured a younger person was more likely to speak a little bit of English. I pointed on the map where I needed to go and the kid pointed at the train heading in the opposite direction of the one I was intending to get on.
Hmmm.
Sure glad I asked him where I needed to go. That's another thing about the Korean language or foreign languages in general, so many words look so similar! One letter or a slight difference in inflection can get you on a train heading to the complete opposite side of the city.
I met up with Michael and we jumped on another train to get to his Korean program director's apartment building. We met up with another American teacher, Karl, along the way.
Here I am in Seoul, South Korea, walking through the streets at night with two complete strangers. I have no idea where I am, no idea where I'm going, next to no money, and no idea who these men are. What is wrong with me? Intuition is a beautiful thing.
We finally made it to Ted & Jane's (Michael's Korean program director) apartment and they had a huge amount of food prepared, both Korean and Western.
Ted's wife, Jane, is the cutest woman alive. She was so friendly and constantly smiling. She's this beautiful Korean woman and she kept shoving more and more food in our faces. I wanted to put her in my pocket (and she'd actually fit) and take her with me everywhere.
I was able to discuss my school situation with Ted & Jane and Michael and Karl and they gave me advice on how to handle a less than ideal school and school director situation. It was just really nice to know I wasn't crazy for feeling overwhelmed and lost in my ridiculously disorganized teaching situation.
We taught Jane how to Trick-or-Treat and it was the cutest thing ever. As we were all leaving to go home, we decided to go back and "Trick-or-Treat" at Ted and Jane's door. We knocked on the door and yelled in unison, "Trick-or-Treat!" She couldn't stop laughing and she ran back into her kitchen to grab candy for us.
I had to catch the last bus back to Dangjin and it left Seoul at 9:50 p.m. Michael made sure to stay with me until I got on my bus. It took running to three different terminals before we finally found the correct bus. I was definitely stressing out, running from bus ticket window to bus ticket window and trying to ask anyone where the correct bus terminal was. Luckily, Michael speaks a little Korean so that was helpful. We finally found the right place with 6 minutes to spare before the last bus left the city for the night.
Agnes was planning a trip to Seoul on Halloween to meet up with a friend of hers. She invited me along. I wanted to see Seoul and figure out how to get around the city. I also wanted to meet another American teacher I had been emailing throughout my first week for advice and venting.
Agnes took it upon herself to book us on a bus tour to see the sites of Seoul. We had to catch the 7 a.m. bus from Dangjin to Seoul because Agnes wanted to get to Seoul as early as humanly possible to be able to see everything.
The bus left Dangjin when it was still dark outside but the bus only took about an hour and 10 minutes. Once we got to the Seoul bus terminal, we had to catch the subway to the center of the city (fittingly named: Central City) to get to the bus tour.
When we were leaving the subway station there was a little old lady who was the turnstile attendant (wasn't aware an attendant was necessary, but I digress). My subway card was not letting me through the turnstile and Ms. Geriatric (I'd lost all respect by this point) was screaming at me in Korean. Obviously I have no idea was she was saying. She kept yelling and pointing at me. I totally could have taken her, I had a good three feet on her, but I thought better of it considering the international relations implications.
Agnes stepped in and started yelling back at the lady in Korean. The heated banter went on for quite some time with no real resolution in sight, I considered getting some popcorn. Finally the lady just waved us off to an exit that wasn't blocked by turnstiles. Why we couldn't have gone through this exit in the first place is completely beyond me. Still not entirely sure what the problem was either.
We eventually make it to the bus tour and there are only two other people on the bus. The buses depart every 30 minutes so this wasn't entirely odd.
We drive next to the Han River, which runs through the center of the city. There are little shops everywhere selling everything imaginable. It seems like every third or fourth shop is selling florescent lighting of every possible neon color. I will never figure out why one city would need that many shops selling florescent lights and light bulbs.
There are people and cars EVERYWHERE. It shocks me that there are not more collisions. I see a man in front of us on a motorcycle stacked several feet high with cardboard boxes. Taking more than one trip is obviously out of the question. I see an old man crossing the road in front of us balancing a huge wooden door on a bicycle while he walks the bicycle. The bicycle looked like it had shared the same amount of birthdays as the old man. I quietly hoped he didn't have to go too far or up a hill, could have been disastrous.
We get to our first stop, Changgyeonggung Palace, and it has started to rain. A little old lady is selling umbrellas. She wants 30,000 WON for an umbrella. I'm not paying over $20 for an umbrella! Is she nuts? There's also a giant pot of boiling beetles under her little tent of goods. I also passed on the beetles.
We get within the palace walls and there are beautiful fall colors everywhere; very vibrant reds, oranges and yellows. There was a 3,000-year-old tree and an exhibit on sundials and astronomy. The exhibit was in Korean, but I'm sure it was very interesting and informative.
Agnes didn't want to wait for the next bus to pick us up for the next stop on the tour so we decided to walk. By now it's pouring down rain. That 30,000 WON umbrella would be awesome right now. But we walked to a little convenience store and bought an umbrella for 7,000 WON. So there, Bug Lady.
We finally made it to Changdeokgung Palace but we had to go on an organized tour for that and there wasn't another one for 1 1/2 hours. We noticed there was a festival of some kind occurring down a side street, so we decided to check that out.
It turned out to be a Korean culture festival. One of the festival volunteers grabbed us and herded us to a covered tent. He wanted us to have lunch with the cast of the festival performance. Free Korean food?! Hell yeah! We ended up eating with all the performers and volunteers. We had kimchee soup that kicked ass and a whole bunch of other things that I couldn't quite identify and singed my tastebuds. But there was some pork that literally made me gag. It was slices of pork but it had ribbons of lard throughout each piece. I couldn't handle the texture and I almost vomited in the middle of the tent. Not kidding, I was gagging.
Some nice man kept insisting I share his rice wine. It was very good and helped me stomach the pork dish.
After we ate and thanked everyone for letting us eat their food we wandered into a teapot gallery. There were pictures of various Korean dignitaries on the wall of the gallery. There was a picture of the guy who gave me rice wine sitting next to a government official. We had been eating and drinking with someone really important in the Korean hierarchy and we didn't even know it!!! Still have no idea who he was though.
We eventually made it back to Changdeokgung Palace in time for the tour. By this time, it was a torrential downpour. The rain made the experience a whole lot less enjoyable. And what is up with the ancient Japanese destroying beautiful palaces in Korea? In 1592, the Japanese burned down the palace after it had been chillin' quite peacefully for almost 200 years. The palace, after being rebuilt, was destroyed by fire again in 1623 after a revolt to restore King Injo. A-holes.
The Secret Garden was beautiful and peaceful despite the dozens of tourists milling about. I really want to go back in the spring. The garden is very large and blends into the topography of the land. Artificial landscaping is kept to an absolute minimum.
On one side of the garden there is a gate called "Eosumun," which means "a fish cannot live out of water." It was a reminder that a "ruler must always consider officials." i.e. Listen to the little people. The gate led up to a building which used to be the monarchies library. I totally wanted to bust through the gate to check out the library, but getting arrested in Korea is not really on the itinerary.
There are small pavilions throughout the Secret Garden grounds. In one pavilion, there is a tablet with words from King Jeongjo enscribed: "All streams in the world have moons reflected on them, but there is only one moon in the sky. The moon in the sky is me, the king, and the streams are you, my subjects. It is the principle of the universe that the streams follow the moon."
Yeah, slightly ego-centric, but sounds a hell of a lot better than: "There's an old saying in Tennessee, I know it's in Texas, it says 'Fool me once, shame on you... if you fool me... we can't get fooled again.'"
Just sayin'.
There were other stops on our bus tour, but I was soaked to the bone and quite cold; just plain over it. Agnes and I got back on the bus and headed back to Central City. Agnes had plans to meet her friend and I had plans to attend a Halloween party with another American teacher, Michael, so Agnes and I parted ways.
While looking for the correct subway line to meet Michael, I happened upon Tim Tams. Imagine my excitement!! Tim Tams are the best cookies on the planet and I haven't seen them since I lived in Australia!!!! Abby has sent them to me a couple times from New Zealand. I actually, very audibly, exclaimed, "Tim Tams!" I got a funky stare from the clerk, clearly not appreciating my outburst. I wanted to clear the shelves of the tasty morsels, but due to the pathetic state of my wallet, decided to practice some self-control and just purchase one. But, not to worry, I made a mental note of the kiosks' location and vowed to return with my first paycheck.
I've always had an unbelievable knack for getting lost. I'm really, REALLY good at it (or bad at it, depending on if you're a glass-half-full or glass-half-empty kind of person). I have NO sense of direction and when I say, "no" I mean non-existant. It's actually gotten worse as I've gotten older too. It's never really bothered me though, I'd like to think of it as endearing. If I find the correct location the first time I'm looking for it, it actually shocks me. However, getting lost in a country where you don't speak the language, especially an Asian country where you don't speak the language, is a whole different animal and it's quite scary.
Michael told me which subway line to meet him on. I thought I was headed in the right direction, but given my knack for getting lost I thought I better ask one of the younger subway riders. I figured a younger person was more likely to speak a little bit of English. I pointed on the map where I needed to go and the kid pointed at the train heading in the opposite direction of the one I was intending to get on.
Hmmm.
Sure glad I asked him where I needed to go. That's another thing about the Korean language or foreign languages in general, so many words look so similar! One letter or a slight difference in inflection can get you on a train heading to the complete opposite side of the city.
I met up with Michael and we jumped on another train to get to his Korean program director's apartment building. We met up with another American teacher, Karl, along the way.
Here I am in Seoul, South Korea, walking through the streets at night with two complete strangers. I have no idea where I am, no idea where I'm going, next to no money, and no idea who these men are. What is wrong with me? Intuition is a beautiful thing.
We finally made it to Ted & Jane's (Michael's Korean program director) apartment and they had a huge amount of food prepared, both Korean and Western.
Ted's wife, Jane, is the cutest woman alive. She was so friendly and constantly smiling. She's this beautiful Korean woman and she kept shoving more and more food in our faces. I wanted to put her in my pocket (and she'd actually fit) and take her with me everywhere.
I was able to discuss my school situation with Ted & Jane and Michael and Karl and they gave me advice on how to handle a less than ideal school and school director situation. It was just really nice to know I wasn't crazy for feeling overwhelmed and lost in my ridiculously disorganized teaching situation.
We taught Jane how to Trick-or-Treat and it was the cutest thing ever. As we were all leaving to go home, we decided to go back and "Trick-or-Treat" at Ted and Jane's door. We knocked on the door and yelled in unison, "Trick-or-Treat!" She couldn't stop laughing and she ran back into her kitchen to grab candy for us.
I had to catch the last bus back to Dangjin and it left Seoul at 9:50 p.m. Michael made sure to stay with me until I got on my bus. It took running to three different terminals before we finally found the correct bus. I was definitely stressing out, running from bus ticket window to bus ticket window and trying to ask anyone where the correct bus terminal was. Luckily, Michael speaks a little Korean so that was helpful. We finally found the right place with 6 minutes to spare before the last bus left the city for the night.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Chance Encounters with Beautiful Children
The other night I had a short break between my ridiculous amount of classes so I thought I would walk down the block and check out what was available for street fair.
I came upon a man selling some red, spicy looking concoctions and some sort of meat product on a stick. A young girl stood next to me and asked, in very good English, if she could help me order. I smiled at her very thankfully and told her what I think I wanted.
How beautiful is this child?!
She told me her name was Ivy and she put a smile on my face. She ordered for me and told me how much the bill was. I paid the man and thanked her for her help. As she was walking away she warned me to be careful because the food may be hot. I freaking love Korean children.
The food was some sort of rice paste with red pepper sauce, it was crazy spicy! The tastebuds on the tip of my tongue will never be the same, but Ivy will never be forgotten.
I came upon a man selling some red, spicy looking concoctions and some sort of meat product on a stick. A young girl stood next to me and asked, in very good English, if she could help me order. I smiled at her very thankfully and told her what I think I wanted.
How beautiful is this child?!
She told me her name was Ivy and she put a smile on my face. She ordered for me and told me how much the bill was. I paid the man and thanked her for her help. As she was walking away she warned me to be careful because the food may be hot. I freaking love Korean children.
The food was some sort of rice paste with red pepper sauce, it was crazy spicy! The tastebuds on the tip of my tongue will never be the same, but Ivy will never be forgotten.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Seizing the Carp
If anyone has wondered why I've named my blog "Seizing the Carp" it's from a movie and my sister, Ingrid, and I say it all the time.
It's from 'Out Cold', a snowboarding movie based in Alaska. Tons of hilarious quotes have sprung from that movie and one of the most hilarious men on the planet is in that movie: Zach Galifianakis.
There is a part in the movie where one of the characters "Pig Pen" is talking about asking out a girl and he says, "Carpe the Diem. Seize The Carp." Ever since my sister and I saw that movie we would say that constantly. If we suggested doing something to the other our response was always "Seize the Carp!" Basically, say yes to everything! It's our little mantra.
Therefore, my Korean blog has become "Seizing the Carp."
It's from 'Out Cold', a snowboarding movie based in Alaska. Tons of hilarious quotes have sprung from that movie and one of the most hilarious men on the planet is in that movie: Zach Galifianakis.
There is a part in the movie where one of the characters "Pig Pen" is talking about asking out a girl and he says, "Carpe the Diem. Seize The Carp." Ever since my sister and I saw that movie we would say that constantly. If we suggested doing something to the other our response was always "Seize the Carp!" Basically, say yes to everything! It's our little mantra.
Therefore, my Korean blog has become "Seizing the Carp."
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Korean kiddies
I love Korean children. They are ridiculously cute and, for the most part, very respectful and quite innocent. I can't effin' stand the middle school-age children, but I'm pretty sure that would be the case no matter where I am. Seriously, I want to hit them in the face most of the time.
But, the young children are awesome. They are so sweet and they love to laugh and they are so affectionate, and they bring me treats!!! They always say they want to "share, share with teacher." There is such an innocence to them too and they seem to hold on to their innocence much longer than American children, which is incredibly refreshing.
The high school children are also pretty awesome. They are so interested in learning and they want so desperately to talk to you and learn from you. The high school kids I teach are also very funny and respectful.
The other day one of my high school students began singing Mariah Carey's "Touch My Body", which is a song I've never even heard before. But she started singing it in her Korean accent and broken English "Touch-che my body-ey, ooooh oooooh babaay," all the while wearing a school uniform complete with tie and plaid skirt and bows in her hair. Cracked me up! I started laughing so hard I was crying and then the rest of the class was laughing at me laughing and crying.
"You like-ahh Mariah Carey, teacher?"
"Ummm, not really," I say, "but I LOVE your version."
But, the young children are awesome. They are so sweet and they love to laugh and they are so affectionate, and they bring me treats!!! They always say they want to "share, share with teacher." There is such an innocence to them too and they seem to hold on to their innocence much longer than American children, which is incredibly refreshing.
The high school children are also pretty awesome. They are so interested in learning and they want so desperately to talk to you and learn from you. The high school kids I teach are also very funny and respectful.
The other day one of my high school students began singing Mariah Carey's "Touch My Body", which is a song I've never even heard before. But she started singing it in her Korean accent and broken English "Touch-che my body-ey, ooooh oooooh babaay," all the while wearing a school uniform complete with tie and plaid skirt and bows in her hair. Cracked me up! I started laughing so hard I was crying and then the rest of the class was laughing at me laughing and crying.
"You like-ahh Mariah Carey, teacher?"
"Ummm, not really," I say, "but I LOVE your version."
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Guy Fawkes Night
I was invited to a barbecue last night to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night at the apartment roof of one of the other Western teachers in town, who just happens to live in the building next to me. Apparently Guy Fawkes Night is a very big and important holiday for Kiwis, English, South Africans and Aussies, pretty much anyone who is a part of the Commonwealth. I'd never heard of Guy Fawkes before, so naturally I googled him... I was also told by Patrick, a Kiwi and the host of the party, that Guy Fawkes was a big rebel who tried to blow up Parliament and ordered a giant load of gunpowder to do the damage, but somehow lines were crossed and he got fireworks instead. So instead of blowing up Parliament, he gave them a great fireworks show.
I got to meet a bunch of Kiwis, one Aussie, a few South Africans, one Brit, one Irishman and a couple other Americans last night. And I got to barbecue!!!! It was awesome!!! The food was amazing, the beer was plentiful and there were even fireworks! It was also really great to meet some more English-speaking people and discuss life in Korea as an ESL teacher. I met some really amazing, welcoming and fantastic people. The longer I'm here, the more I realize the Western group really takes care of each other. They are more than willing to open their home, give you full access to anything of theirs and basically just take care of you in any way they can.
After I stuffed my face with a ridiculous amount of barbecued lambchops, chicken and sausages, as well as potato salads and a bunch of other food and beer, we headed to a noorybong (spelling??), which is VERY popular in Korea. It's basically a little room you can rent with your friends and do karaoke. You pay for the room in 30-minute to 60-minute increments and you can pay to have alcohol delivered to the room as well. It was absolutely hilarious! I adamently refused to sing, but the more soju I drank the more I was willing to sing a little ditty, or at least sing backup. Thank god it's just in a small room with friends. By the way, soju is awful! It's made of rice obviously and tastes like ass, but we mixed it with orange juice and sprite and it wasn't so bad.
They finally kicked us out of the noorybong at 5 a.m. No bueno.
I've decided to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night every year, even though it has nothing to do with my country. Who doesn't need a reason to have another 4th of July in November????
I got to meet a bunch of Kiwis, one Aussie, a few South Africans, one Brit, one Irishman and a couple other Americans last night. And I got to barbecue!!!! It was awesome!!! The food was amazing, the beer was plentiful and there were even fireworks! It was also really great to meet some more English-speaking people and discuss life in Korea as an ESL teacher. I met some really amazing, welcoming and fantastic people. The longer I'm here, the more I realize the Western group really takes care of each other. They are more than willing to open their home, give you full access to anything of theirs and basically just take care of you in any way they can.
After I stuffed my face with a ridiculous amount of barbecued lambchops, chicken and sausages, as well as potato salads and a bunch of other food and beer, we headed to a noorybong (spelling??), which is VERY popular in Korea. It's basically a little room you can rent with your friends and do karaoke. You pay for the room in 30-minute to 60-minute increments and you can pay to have alcohol delivered to the room as well. It was absolutely hilarious! I adamently refused to sing, but the more soju I drank the more I was willing to sing a little ditty, or at least sing backup. Thank god it's just in a small room with friends. By the way, soju is awful! It's made of rice obviously and tastes like ass, but we mixed it with orange juice and sprite and it wasn't so bad.
They finally kicked us out of the noorybong at 5 a.m. No bueno.
I've decided to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night every year, even though it has nothing to do with my country. Who doesn't need a reason to have another 4th of July in November????
Friday, November 6, 2009
Observations & Ramblings
Koreans have an obsession with the English language.
The kids wear T-shirts with English words on them, but the sequence of the words mean absolutely nothing. They just like to have English words on their clothing and other possessions. "Joy Dress Cookie My House". Seriously, it's that random. It completely cracks me up.
I will avoid buying any clothing with Korean writing on it while I'm here. I wouldn't want to be walking around with anything saying "Unicorn Water Ugly Living" and have all the Koreans laugh at me more than they already do.
I'm a proud member of the Dangjin Culture Center and it's only a 20-minute walk from my apartment. There is a gym, an olympic-sized swimming pool (yay!), a library with a few shelves of English books, a media room and supposedly cooking classes.
I immediately signed up for the gym, which was only 20,000 WON a month, about $16. To get access to the pool it's another 30,000 WON a month, about $25. So I've been going to the gym pretty much every day. The gym overlooks the pool so I can watch people swimming.
The kids wear T-shirts with English words on them, but the sequence of the words mean absolutely nothing. They just like to have English words on their clothing and other possessions. "Joy Dress Cookie My House". Seriously, it's that random. It completely cracks me up.
I will avoid buying any clothing with Korean writing on it while I'm here. I wouldn't want to be walking around with anything saying "Unicorn Water Ugly Living" and have all the Koreans laugh at me more than they already do.
I'm a proud member of the Dangjin Culture Center and it's only a 20-minute walk from my apartment. There is a gym, an olympic-sized swimming pool (yay!), a library with a few shelves of English books, a media room and supposedly cooking classes.
I immediately signed up for the gym, which was only 20,000 WON a month, about $16. To get access to the pool it's another 30,000 WON a month, about $25. So I've been going to the gym pretty much every day. The gym overlooks the pool so I can watch people swimming.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Hospitals blow
I had to go to the local hospital to get a physical done so I could get my ID card. I also had to have an HIV test, which apparently is something very rare to ask for in Korea because most hospitals we called didn't offer it. I'm not sure if it's something every person entering Korea to live must get, or just Americans. Apparently Americans are dirty sluts or junkies.
We finally find a hospital nearby that will give my skanky self a physical. We head into the lobby and there are patients in hospital gowns roaming around holding saline bags on top of their heads. Eveyone is just carrying around their saline bags on their heads. Patients are everywhere; the lobby, outside, the hallways, in and out of random rooms. Do they actually have rooms for the patients? I have to have a blood test and the phlebotomist (I assume??) is in the basement of the hospital by himself. There are vials of everybody else's blood all over the place. There is a cardboard box on his desk in front of me that has big splotches of blood all over it and it's full of used syringes.
He pokes the inside of my arms with his fingers looking for good veins. I hate having my blood drawn. I have really tiny, deep veins that roll. It's a huge pain in the ass and quite painful.
He pulls a needle out of his top drawer and all I kept thinking was, "Please, oh please God, let that be a clean needle!" There was a plastic cap on the needle so I hope I'm right to assume the needle was clean before the cap was put on.
Luckily he finds a vein the first time and he quickly extracts a syringe full of my blood. He puts it in a vial labeled with my name and tosses the dirty needle into the cardboard box. Little speckles of my blood stain the box.
Please, please don't ever let me get sick or hurt in this country.
We finally find a hospital nearby that will give my skanky self a physical. We head into the lobby and there are patients in hospital gowns roaming around holding saline bags on top of their heads. Eveyone is just carrying around their saline bags on their heads. Patients are everywhere; the lobby, outside, the hallways, in and out of random rooms. Do they actually have rooms for the patients? I have to have a blood test and the phlebotomist (I assume??) is in the basement of the hospital by himself. There are vials of everybody else's blood all over the place. There is a cardboard box on his desk in front of me that has big splotches of blood all over it and it's full of used syringes.
He pokes the inside of my arms with his fingers looking for good veins. I hate having my blood drawn. I have really tiny, deep veins that roll. It's a huge pain in the ass and quite painful.
He pulls a needle out of his top drawer and all I kept thinking was, "Please, oh please God, let that be a clean needle!" There was a plastic cap on the needle so I hope I'm right to assume the needle was clean before the cap was put on.
Luckily he finds a vein the first time and he quickly extracts a syringe full of my blood. He puts it in a vial labeled with my name and tosses the dirty needle into the cardboard box. Little speckles of my blood stain the box.
Please, please don't ever let me get sick or hurt in this country.
First Day of School
This post is slightly out of sequence, but I had to share the penis viewing!
Oct. 26th was my first day of school and I was supposed to go to each of my classes and observe.
Throughout the day I hear a lot of "What's your name? It's nice to meet you, my name is...." All the students, ages 6-19, have English names, which for some reason I find strange. However, it does make things a lot easier for me. Their English names have nothing to do with their Korean names, which I also find intriguing.
I also hear a lot of, "Wow! You are very tall!" I just smile at them and tell them I am considered tall in my country too.
Classes start at 2:30 p.m. and are 45 - 90 minutes long. There are classes until 9:30 p.m. every weekday. Students come to the private English academies after attending regular public school all day. I really have no idea when students have time to study or sleep. But education and learning English are very important concepts to the Korean people and Korean parents are willing to pay lots of money to ensure their children learn English.
There are Hogwans (private English schools) everywhere. The first level of buildings are made up of Hogwans and restaurants and the other levels are apartments. There are tons and tons of Hogwans everywhere! Mine is called "Talking Club".
Each student has their temperature taken as soon as they enter Talking Club with a digital thermometer that is placed in their ear. H1N1 is quite an epidemic and I'm pretty sure it originated here too. EVERYONE wears masks over their nose and mouth.
The same thermometer is used daily on several students and there is no sort of protective cap on it, nor are there any swipes of alcohol between temperature readings. I find something incredibly gross about this. But I guess it could be worse, it could be a rectal thermometer.
There are a total of eight teachers at Talking Club. Six of those are native Koreans, one is from India and then there is me. We are all female. Mirue is the best at speaking English, she just graduated with a degree in pre-pharmacy from a university in Portland, Oregon and she is waiting to hear if she'll be accepted into Pharmacy school and returning to the U.S. She's a friggin doll and I can talk to her like she's an American and she knows what I'm saying. I don't have to carefully calculate every word with her. It's fantastic!
Jennifer is also really good at English. She spent eight years in New Zealand before coming back home several months ago to teach.
I had one middle-school aged student ask me what my favorite flower was and he told me his was "mara-johnna". Umm, what?! If you're going to try to be a typical snarky teenager then at least pronounce marijuana correctly. I thought Korean children were considered highly naive and the Korean culture VERY anti-drug?
At one point, the Korean teacher in charge of "mara-johnna" boy's class allowed the students to throw Jenga game pieces at each other and all over the classroom while she stared at the table. WTF?!
I sit in on the 6:40 p.m. class. There are two students there and they are fairly advanced at English. I keep waiting for the teacher to show up and nobody does. Finally Agnes comes in and tells me I'm responsible for this class. Ummm.... Good to know. We played "Hangman" and "20 Questions" for the entire duration of the class.
I was solely responsible for the next class too. They were pretty advanced at English too, so we just talked.
I'm overwhelmed by my complete ineptitude by this point and the amount of time and effort I will need to invest just to figure out what is going on.
Do all new ESL teachers in a foreign land feel this way? I feel like I've been thrown to the wolves.
I make it back to my apartment at 9:50 p.m. I lie face down on my bed with my feet hanging off the foot of the bed and my arms outstretched on either side. My first day of "teaching" is finally over
I don't think I've ever felt this unprepared, uncomfortable or completely clueless in my entire life. I'm the only native English speaker at the school and I was given absolutely no direction or instruction from the school director about how to teach the children English. The first three classes I went to were spoken entirely in Korean. The previous Western teachers had no teaching experience either (from what I'm told) and they managed to make it through, but how? I would love to ask them, but no one at the school will give me Alex or Emily's e-mail address because it's "confidential information".
Oct. 26th was my first day of school and I was supposed to go to each of my classes and observe.
Throughout the day I hear a lot of "What's your name? It's nice to meet you, my name is...." All the students, ages 6-19, have English names, which for some reason I find strange. However, it does make things a lot easier for me. Their English names have nothing to do with their Korean names, which I also find intriguing.
I also hear a lot of, "Wow! You are very tall!" I just smile at them and tell them I am considered tall in my country too.
Classes start at 2:30 p.m. and are 45 - 90 minutes long. There are classes until 9:30 p.m. every weekday. Students come to the private English academies after attending regular public school all day. I really have no idea when students have time to study or sleep. But education and learning English are very important concepts to the Korean people and Korean parents are willing to pay lots of money to ensure their children learn English.
There are Hogwans (private English schools) everywhere. The first level of buildings are made up of Hogwans and restaurants and the other levels are apartments. There are tons and tons of Hogwans everywhere! Mine is called "Talking Club".
Each student has their temperature taken as soon as they enter Talking Club with a digital thermometer that is placed in their ear. H1N1 is quite an epidemic and I'm pretty sure it originated here too. EVERYONE wears masks over their nose and mouth.
The same thermometer is used daily on several students and there is no sort of protective cap on it, nor are there any swipes of alcohol between temperature readings. I find something incredibly gross about this. But I guess it could be worse, it could be a rectal thermometer.
There are a total of eight teachers at Talking Club. Six of those are native Koreans, one is from India and then there is me. We are all female. Mirue is the best at speaking English, she just graduated with a degree in pre-pharmacy from a university in Portland, Oregon and she is waiting to hear if she'll be accepted into Pharmacy school and returning to the U.S. She's a friggin doll and I can talk to her like she's an American and she knows what I'm saying. I don't have to carefully calculate every word with her. It's fantastic!
Jennifer is also really good at English. She spent eight years in New Zealand before coming back home several months ago to teach.
I had one middle-school aged student ask me what my favorite flower was and he told me his was "mara-johnna". Umm, what?! If you're going to try to be a typical snarky teenager then at least pronounce marijuana correctly. I thought Korean children were considered highly naive and the Korean culture VERY anti-drug?
At one point, the Korean teacher in charge of "mara-johnna" boy's class allowed the students to throw Jenga game pieces at each other and all over the classroom while she stared at the table. WTF?!
I sit in on the 6:40 p.m. class. There are two students there and they are fairly advanced at English. I keep waiting for the teacher to show up and nobody does. Finally Agnes comes in and tells me I'm responsible for this class. Ummm.... Good to know. We played "Hangman" and "20 Questions" for the entire duration of the class.
I was solely responsible for the next class too. They were pretty advanced at English too, so we just talked.
I'm overwhelmed by my complete ineptitude by this point and the amount of time and effort I will need to invest just to figure out what is going on.
Do all new ESL teachers in a foreign land feel this way? I feel like I've been thrown to the wolves.
I make it back to my apartment at 9:50 p.m. I lie face down on my bed with my feet hanging off the foot of the bed and my arms outstretched on either side. My first day of "teaching" is finally over
I don't think I've ever felt this unprepared, uncomfortable or completely clueless in my entire life. I'm the only native English speaker at the school and I was given absolutely no direction or instruction from the school director about how to teach the children English. The first three classes I went to were spoken entirely in Korean. The previous Western teachers had no teaching experience either (from what I'm told) and they managed to make it through, but how? I would love to ask them, but no one at the school will give me Alex or Emily's e-mail address because it's "confidential information".
Monday, November 2, 2009
Holy Hell! I just saw a Korean man's penis!
He didn't even try to hide it, he didn't even react. I was walking home after school and got between the building where my school is located and my apartment building and he was just standing there --- peeing!
His wee, little wang was whipped out full stream and he was putting some paper in his wallet. He looked up at me rather non-chalantly and then returned to his wallet.
WTF?!??
He didn't even try to hide it, he didn't even react. I was walking home after school and got between the building where my school is located and my apartment building and he was just standing there --- peeing!
His wee, little wang was whipped out full stream and he was putting some paper in his wallet. He looked up at me rather non-chalantly and then returned to his wallet.
WTF?!??
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Waking Up in Asia 10/25/09
There's definitely some funk in the air. Can't quite put my finger on what the smell is, but it's rank. Seoul smelled horrible like feet, gnarly rotten food and the way Missoula smells after it rains.
I woke up from my first night in Dangjin raring to go. Those magic pills kick ass! Thanks, Chris!
Agnes was going to take me around Dangjin today, but that wasn't until 1 p.m., so I decided to go for a walk to see what I could see. The previous teachers (Alex & Emily, a couple from Canada) had left me their cellphone and Agnes had pre-programmed her cell number into the phone. I figured if I got too lost I could just call her.
I headed out and ended up walking in the downtown area of Dangjin and considering it was Sunday, not too much was open but there were a lot of people out and about. Everyone I passed stared at me, but I didn't feel like they were being rude, just curious. I smiled at everyone I saw. The women would usually smile back, except for the older women, but men would almost never smile back.
I was looking for an internet cafe so I could e-mail everyone letting them know I'd made it safely. I went into a little convenience store and asked about an "internet cafe". The man didn't speak any English and he had no idea what I was talking about. Found out later, they are called "PC Rooms" here.
I eventually made it back to my temporary apartment in the library. I didn't get lost!
The previous teachers left some things behind when they went back home. They even made me pancakes and left them in the fridge for me! They left a bunch of cooking utensils and baking supplies, some bathroom stuff, food and a couple Canadian magazines. I don't have to go shopping right away :) ! They even left their pet fish. Or maybe that was just lunch...
I suddenly feel very isolated. Nobody knows if I've made it to Korea safely and I can just imagine what my mother is doing right now. I told everyone it would probably be about 2 days until they would hear from me. It's definitely been over 48 hours since I left the states.
Agnes drives me to the local department store where I can buy food and household items. I'm admittedly shocked at the grocery store. There is so much there -- a lot more than I expected to be able to find. I can easily walk to the store, too. It's called Lotte (Loh-tay) Mart, but I just call it "Lottee" because I'm an ignorant American. Apparently "Loh-tay" is a rich fella because there is a hotel called Lotte too, but you have to be somewhat of a high roller to stay there. Going to have to find myself a sugar daddy...
Agnes also took me to the outdoor market in Dangjin. I couldn't find it again if my life depended on it, but that is nothing new with my ridiculous lack of a sense of direction. The market gave me sensory overload. So many people, colors and objects. Toothbrushes, live eels and octopus in big tubs of water, food vendors, fruit (the fruit is HUGE), vegetables, pots & pans, toys, clothes, everything. One lady stopped us and asked us to try her food. (I assume that's what she said.) It was a sort of rolled up rice paste with spices and green onions and then deep fried. It was very good.
My toothbrush was in my carry-on so I bought a new one at the market. We stopped for a drink at "Family Mart", like a 7-11, and they're on every corner. Agnes and I watched the people at the market, she knew several people there, most of them were parents of Talking Club students. We also watch the insane drivers nearly hit pedestrians, market stalls and several cars. Drivers in Korea are nuts. I thought Vegas drivers were bad.
Eventually it's time to move into my apartment and it's only a half block from the school, awfully convenient. It's quite possibly the dinkiest apartment I've ever seen, even smaller than Lindsey's studio in Waikiki (which I didn't think was possible). But it's clean, has a washing machine and I don't need that much anyway. And it's free! Can't really beat that.
The landlord, the old tenants and Agnes all helped me move into my apartment. We had to move a bed, a table & chairs and a few smaller items into the apartment from the library. It was incredibly nice of everyone to help me. Although moving is a royal pain in the ass when you have to take off your shoes each time you enter a house.
I was so hungry and for some reason I just needed something comforting and familiar. I went on the lookout for some American cuisine. I rationalized that I had an entire year to eat the local Korean food, but at that moment I needed something familiar.
It's very odd to order American food in an American food chain from someone who doesn't understand a single word you're saying and you haven't the slightest inkling what they're saying. A whole lot of pointing and sign language occurs.
I had ordered a sandwich and the girl kept crossing her arms at her wrists and saying something over and over again. This is no time to practice your "Wonder Woman" act, girly!! I'm hungry! I honestly (idiotically) thought she was asking to cut the sandwich in half or something. Yes, I'm a moron. Something finally clicked and I realized she was trying to tell me they didn't have what I wanted. I had learned the sign language for not having something! I placed another order and went on my merry little way.
I woke up from my first night in Dangjin raring to go. Those magic pills kick ass! Thanks, Chris!
Agnes was going to take me around Dangjin today, but that wasn't until 1 p.m., so I decided to go for a walk to see what I could see. The previous teachers (Alex & Emily, a couple from Canada) had left me their cellphone and Agnes had pre-programmed her cell number into the phone. I figured if I got too lost I could just call her.
I headed out and ended up walking in the downtown area of Dangjin and considering it was Sunday, not too much was open but there were a lot of people out and about. Everyone I passed stared at me, but I didn't feel like they were being rude, just curious. I smiled at everyone I saw. The women would usually smile back, except for the older women, but men would almost never smile back.
I was looking for an internet cafe so I could e-mail everyone letting them know I'd made it safely. I went into a little convenience store and asked about an "internet cafe". The man didn't speak any English and he had no idea what I was talking about. Found out later, they are called "PC Rooms" here.
I eventually made it back to my temporary apartment in the library. I didn't get lost!
The previous teachers left some things behind when they went back home. They even made me pancakes and left them in the fridge for me! They left a bunch of cooking utensils and baking supplies, some bathroom stuff, food and a couple Canadian magazines. I don't have to go shopping right away :) ! They even left their pet fish. Or maybe that was just lunch...
I suddenly feel very isolated. Nobody knows if I've made it to Korea safely and I can just imagine what my mother is doing right now. I told everyone it would probably be about 2 days until they would hear from me. It's definitely been over 48 hours since I left the states.
Agnes drives me to the local department store where I can buy food and household items. I'm admittedly shocked at the grocery store. There is so much there -- a lot more than I expected to be able to find. I can easily walk to the store, too. It's called Lotte (Loh-tay) Mart, but I just call it "Lottee" because I'm an ignorant American. Apparently "Loh-tay" is a rich fella because there is a hotel called Lotte too, but you have to be somewhat of a high roller to stay there. Going to have to find myself a sugar daddy...
Agnes also took me to the outdoor market in Dangjin. I couldn't find it again if my life depended on it, but that is nothing new with my ridiculous lack of a sense of direction. The market gave me sensory overload. So many people, colors and objects. Toothbrushes, live eels and octopus in big tubs of water, food vendors, fruit (the fruit is HUGE), vegetables, pots & pans, toys, clothes, everything. One lady stopped us and asked us to try her food. (I assume that's what she said.) It was a sort of rolled up rice paste with spices and green onions and then deep fried. It was very good.
My toothbrush was in my carry-on so I bought a new one at the market. We stopped for a drink at "Family Mart", like a 7-11, and they're on every corner. Agnes and I watched the people at the market, she knew several people there, most of them were parents of Talking Club students. We also watch the insane drivers nearly hit pedestrians, market stalls and several cars. Drivers in Korea are nuts. I thought Vegas drivers were bad.
Eventually it's time to move into my apartment and it's only a half block from the school, awfully convenient. It's quite possibly the dinkiest apartment I've ever seen, even smaller than Lindsey's studio in Waikiki (which I didn't think was possible). But it's clean, has a washing machine and I don't need that much anyway. And it's free! Can't really beat that.
The landlord, the old tenants and Agnes all helped me move into my apartment. We had to move a bed, a table & chairs and a few smaller items into the apartment from the library. It was incredibly nice of everyone to help me. Although moving is a royal pain in the ass when you have to take off your shoes each time you enter a house.
I was so hungry and for some reason I just needed something comforting and familiar. I went on the lookout for some American cuisine. I rationalized that I had an entire year to eat the local Korean food, but at that moment I needed something familiar.
It's very odd to order American food in an American food chain from someone who doesn't understand a single word you're saying and you haven't the slightest inkling what they're saying. A whole lot of pointing and sign language occurs.
I had ordered a sandwich and the girl kept crossing her arms at her wrists and saying something over and over again. This is no time to practice your "Wonder Woman" act, girly!! I'm hungry! I honestly (idiotically) thought she was asking to cut the sandwich in half or something. Yes, I'm a moron. Something finally clicked and I realized she was trying to tell me they didn't have what I wanted. I had learned the sign language for not having something! I placed another order and went on my merry little way.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Flight
I got to the airport at about 6 a.m. for a 6:45 international flight after NO sleep the night before. Nearly got to the airport without my passport too. There was a slight bag mix-up, which required a drive across town from where I was and way the hell across town from the airport.
I got through baggage check with bags weighing 50.5 pounds and 51.5 pounds and the ticket counter lady didn't charge me for being 2 pounds over the limit!!!
Went through the metal detector and my carry-on had to go through the X-ray twice and then the security lady opened my bag, rearranged the contents, opened the canisters where I put my jewelry (I put my jewelry in film canisters and old Body Shop lotion containers, it's safer and more compact) and she exclaimed, "Oh! You were trying to trick me!" while she pointed at the lotion container, which is over the 3-oz limit. Yes, lady, I have all the time in the world to hash out plans to try to pull a fast one over airport security. She put my bag through the X-ray for the third time and finally gives me the green light. She plops my bag on a seperate table and leaves me responsible for returning the contents of my bag to their original locations after she so skillfully ransacked it. I make it to my gate, I'm the last one on the plane and they close the door behind me. Onward to Denver!
I get to Denver and suddenly my carry-on is too big for me to have on the plane. The airline staff says I have to check it. I'm not ok with this, but I can't argue. My carry-on has my Korean school contract, my immunization records, copies of EVERYTHING (which I realize now is really stupid, but I had every intention of having these things on me the whole time), it also has my Banff pants (the comfiest fleece pants on the planet, Abby will agree), ALL of my jewelry (!), a few of my favorite books, my toothbrush, and ALL OF MY JOURNALS (OH MY GOD!), among several other items. Regardless, the airline staff took my bag and said it would be there when I got off the plane. Foreshadowing, anyone?
The flight to San Francisco was pretty uneventful and I even slept a little, which is next to impossible for me to do on planes. Must be that complete exhaustion.
I get on the plane to Seoul and I have a window seat, which I hate because I can't stretch out my legs. But I was able to sleep against the window in 20-minute spurts. The flight was REALLY long and I watched a couple movies and listened to a lot of music and a book on tape. (Thanks, Alan!) My friend, Chris, game me a supply of Ambien but I'd heard so many crazy stories about what people did while on Ambien that I decided it was best not to take it on an international flight.
When I finally got to Seoul I went straight to baggage claim praying I would see my carry-on. Of course I didn't see it and I knew I wouldn't, but I found my curling iron... It was randomly making it's way around the conveyor belt in one of those gray tubs. One item, just one, sitting in one of those tubs all by itself. It was odd that I even saw it and recognized it as mine and it was far away from my bags. Odder still that it wasn't in my bag as was its obvious original location.
I was given instructions to catch a bus from the airport to Dangjin, which was to leave 2 hours after my plane landed. After I reported my missing bag, I went off to find my bus. It was actually very easy to find. Every taxi driver in a 2-mile radius asked if I needed a ride. That's funny, they really didn't seem to be asking anyone else from what I could tell. Apparently white females are suckers and easy prey for taxi drivers in Seoul (or any other city for that matter). I was also asked to donate money to a Korean Christian network.
The shuttle vehicle I was supposed to catch was called an "airport limosine." In reality, it was a gnarly old bus, but luckily there were only about three people on it.
On the way to Dangjin, I saw a public bus pulled over on the highway and all the men from the bus were peeing shoulder-to-shoulder on the side of the road. I thought that was incredibly odd. I thought Korean people were shy and modest?
It took about two hours to get to the main bus station in Dangjin from the airport. My school director, Agnes, was supposed to meet me at the bus station. I had no idea what she looked like and it was about 10:30 p.m. after 24 hours of traveling. I did see one thing in English though, a Baskin Robbins. Luckily after 10 minutes Agnes showed up.
Poor little Agnes attempted to help me with my bags and they easily weighed more than she did. She takes me to my room for the night. I'll be staying in the library above the Hogwan (private English school) where I'll be teaching. It's 5 minutes from the bus station. Agnes lives in the apartment above the library with her parents. My apartment won't be ready until 6 p.m. the next day. But the library is just like a regular apartment, but with a bunch of children's books in the living room area. There was a bed and that's all I cared about. I took a shower and took one of Chris's magic pills (I wanted to make sure nothing was going to wake me) and I promptly passed out.
I got through baggage check with bags weighing 50.5 pounds and 51.5 pounds and the ticket counter lady didn't charge me for being 2 pounds over the limit!!!
Went through the metal detector and my carry-on had to go through the X-ray twice and then the security lady opened my bag, rearranged the contents, opened the canisters where I put my jewelry (I put my jewelry in film canisters and old Body Shop lotion containers, it's safer and more compact) and she exclaimed, "Oh! You were trying to trick me!" while she pointed at the lotion container, which is over the 3-oz limit. Yes, lady, I have all the time in the world to hash out plans to try to pull a fast one over airport security. She put my bag through the X-ray for the third time and finally gives me the green light. She plops my bag on a seperate table and leaves me responsible for returning the contents of my bag to their original locations after she so skillfully ransacked it. I make it to my gate, I'm the last one on the plane and they close the door behind me. Onward to Denver!
I get to Denver and suddenly my carry-on is too big for me to have on the plane. The airline staff says I have to check it. I'm not ok with this, but I can't argue. My carry-on has my Korean school contract, my immunization records, copies of EVERYTHING (which I realize now is really stupid, but I had every intention of having these things on me the whole time), it also has my Banff pants (the comfiest fleece pants on the planet, Abby will agree), ALL of my jewelry (!), a few of my favorite books, my toothbrush, and ALL OF MY JOURNALS (OH MY GOD!), among several other items. Regardless, the airline staff took my bag and said it would be there when I got off the plane. Foreshadowing, anyone?
The flight to San Francisco was pretty uneventful and I even slept a little, which is next to impossible for me to do on planes. Must be that complete exhaustion.
I get on the plane to Seoul and I have a window seat, which I hate because I can't stretch out my legs. But I was able to sleep against the window in 20-minute spurts. The flight was REALLY long and I watched a couple movies and listened to a lot of music and a book on tape. (Thanks, Alan!) My friend, Chris, game me a supply of Ambien but I'd heard so many crazy stories about what people did while on Ambien that I decided it was best not to take it on an international flight.
When I finally got to Seoul I went straight to baggage claim praying I would see my carry-on. Of course I didn't see it and I knew I wouldn't, but I found my curling iron... It was randomly making it's way around the conveyor belt in one of those gray tubs. One item, just one, sitting in one of those tubs all by itself. It was odd that I even saw it and recognized it as mine and it was far away from my bags. Odder still that it wasn't in my bag as was its obvious original location.
I was given instructions to catch a bus from the airport to Dangjin, which was to leave 2 hours after my plane landed. After I reported my missing bag, I went off to find my bus. It was actually very easy to find. Every taxi driver in a 2-mile radius asked if I needed a ride. That's funny, they really didn't seem to be asking anyone else from what I could tell. Apparently white females are suckers and easy prey for taxi drivers in Seoul (or any other city for that matter). I was also asked to donate money to a Korean Christian network.
The shuttle vehicle I was supposed to catch was called an "airport limosine." In reality, it was a gnarly old bus, but luckily there were only about three people on it.
On the way to Dangjin, I saw a public bus pulled over on the highway and all the men from the bus were peeing shoulder-to-shoulder on the side of the road. I thought that was incredibly odd. I thought Korean people were shy and modest?
It took about two hours to get to the main bus station in Dangjin from the airport. My school director, Agnes, was supposed to meet me at the bus station. I had no idea what she looked like and it was about 10:30 p.m. after 24 hours of traveling. I did see one thing in English though, a Baskin Robbins. Luckily after 10 minutes Agnes showed up.
Poor little Agnes attempted to help me with my bags and they easily weighed more than she did. She takes me to my room for the night. I'll be staying in the library above the Hogwan (private English school) where I'll be teaching. It's 5 minutes from the bus station. Agnes lives in the apartment above the library with her parents. My apartment won't be ready until 6 p.m. the next day. But the library is just like a regular apartment, but with a bunch of children's books in the living room area. There was a bed and that's all I cared about. I took a shower and took one of Chris's magic pills (I wanted to make sure nothing was going to wake me) and I promptly passed out.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
In the hustle and extreme bustle of the last-minute items on the "must-do" list, such as attain that oh-so-necessary Korean visa, I feel I am overwhelmed by the details and won't get to treasure my last remaining weeks at home with my family and friends. I'm feeling so rushed and discombobulated. I really want to enjoy my last few weeks state-side.
I don't think I've quite grasped the all-encompassing prospect of what my life is to become very soon. I don't think I will fully realize it until I set foot on Korean soil. I have so much to do that I'm forced to focus on the logistics rather than the relationships right now. The relationships between family, relationships between friends, relationships between co-workers, relationships between the guy that sells jewelry on the corner of Front Street and Higgins Avenue, relationships between the baristas at my favorite coffee shops and the relationship between my dog and me. Perhaps I've become one of those creepy people who talks too much about their pets, but he really has been a constant companion by my side for the last five years and it's going to be very, very strange to not have him underfoot at all times. Not quite sure how I'm going to handle that. At least with friends and family I can write, call and e-mail when I get lonely or homesick, but a dog is a whole different story. I feel that will be the hardest thing.
I've had some fun (used loosely) challenges acquiring my Korean visa and it still hasn't technically been "acquired" although it's been overnighted to Seattle and I'm hoping the visa gods smile upon me.
I was afraid the Consulate General was going to require I physically be present for my visa interview in Seattle on the 6th of October. Seattle is a good 8 hours away from Missoula and Oct. 6 is the day before I fly out for my good friend's wedding. A wedding I purposely stayed in the country so long for and a flight that left at 7 a.m. Quite a logistical nightmare. However, thankfully, the kind employees of the Korean visa department allowed me to submit a DVD interview of myself. However, attempting to make said DVD will someday be comical, but in the ridiculous stress of this week it seems not so funny. However, when all is said and done, my visa application and materials were promised by the lovely man at the Missoula United States Post Office to arrive safely by noon tomorrow. Please, visa gods smile upon me.
Next up... vaccinations!!!!
I don't think I've quite grasped the all-encompassing prospect of what my life is to become very soon. I don't think I will fully realize it until I set foot on Korean soil. I have so much to do that I'm forced to focus on the logistics rather than the relationships right now. The relationships between family, relationships between friends, relationships between co-workers, relationships between the guy that sells jewelry on the corner of Front Street and Higgins Avenue, relationships between the baristas at my favorite coffee shops and the relationship between my dog and me. Perhaps I've become one of those creepy people who talks too much about their pets, but he really has been a constant companion by my side for the last five years and it's going to be very, very strange to not have him underfoot at all times. Not quite sure how I'm going to handle that. At least with friends and family I can write, call and e-mail when I get lonely or homesick, but a dog is a whole different story. I feel that will be the hardest thing.
I've had some fun (used loosely) challenges acquiring my Korean visa and it still hasn't technically been "acquired" although it's been overnighted to Seattle and I'm hoping the visa gods smile upon me.
I was afraid the Consulate General was going to require I physically be present for my visa interview in Seattle on the 6th of October. Seattle is a good 8 hours away from Missoula and Oct. 6 is the day before I fly out for my good friend's wedding. A wedding I purposely stayed in the country so long for and a flight that left at 7 a.m. Quite a logistical nightmare. However, thankfully, the kind employees of the Korean visa department allowed me to submit a DVD interview of myself. However, attempting to make said DVD will someday be comical, but in the ridiculous stress of this week it seems not so funny. However, when all is said and done, my visa application and materials were promised by the lovely man at the Missoula United States Post Office to arrive safely by noon tomorrow. Please, visa gods smile upon me.
Next up... vaccinations!!!!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
T-minus 4 weeks
I have less than a month before I depart to a land I've never come close to experiencing and getting paid for a job I've never done, nor ever thought I would do.
The last two years of my life have been filled with many changes and ZIP codes, but I'm feeling good about the direction I'm heading. I have no idea what my future holds and that feels so fantastic.
The next few weeks are going to be an absolute blur. It will be full of vaccinations, visa interviews, packing, a wedding, saying goodbye to my beloved Montana, friends and family (and my favorite soul on the planet, my puppy!) and venturing off to a land where I don't know a soul and I can't speak the language. Shall be interesting and comedic, I have no doubt.
It feels good to be in control of my own life.
The last two years of my life have been filled with many changes and ZIP codes, but I'm feeling good about the direction I'm heading. I have no idea what my future holds and that feels so fantastic.
The next few weeks are going to be an absolute blur. It will be full of vaccinations, visa interviews, packing, a wedding, saying goodbye to my beloved Montana, friends and family (and my favorite soul on the planet, my puppy!) and venturing off to a land where I don't know a soul and I can't speak the language. Shall be interesting and comedic, I have no doubt.
It feels good to be in control of my own life.
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