Agnes asked me to meet with her yesterday at noon because she had to talk with me.
The meeting started off boringly enough, she was discussing the next month's lesson. We're starting a new book next month, books from which I must teach all the kids and books which Agnes hasn't ordered me yet. She said she won't be ordering the books for me until Monday. I'm supposed to start teaching the lesson on Monday -- bookless it seems. Which is right up to par for Agnes. At least she's consistent in that respect.
Then she got on the subject of what I do in my free time and who I'm friends with. The night before, my Korean friend, Skanky, had dropped something off for me at Talking Club. It was about 10 p.m. and I was sending some emails. Skanky actually chose that name for himself. I can't actually remember his Korean name. He chose "Skanky" because, well, he is. He gets around. Skanky owns a private music academy in Dangjin.
Anyway, he and I were talking in the Talking Club front room and Agnes comes walking in to Talking Club. She was at a funeral earlier that night, but apparently the funeral was over. Skanky and Agnes knew each other and I knew that. A couple weeks ago, I was out having drinks with Skanky and my friend, Bennie, and I was discussing Agnes. Skanky said he knew her and she was quite a pain in the ass.
Ya don't say?
So last night, the three of us (Skanky, Agnes and I) are standing in the front room of Talking Club, Agnes and Skanky are speaking rapid-fire Korean and I'm just standing there feeling the tension and feeling quite awkward.
After Skanky left, I asked Agnes is she knew him. And she fires back. "Yes! I know him!" She's clearly very pissed off. Then she leaves.
Fast forward to yesterday and she said I can do whatever I want during my free time and be friends with whomever I want (gee, thanks). Then she brings up drug use and I'm like, "What the?" I told her, "I can assure you I'm not taking drugs." But what the hell does that have to do with anything? And she said, "Oh I know that, I know." She then said that it was unacceptable to have a man alone with me at Talking Club while we were unsupervised. I literally had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. She said she was worried what people would think of her and her business if they saw a man going into Talking Club at night, after hours.
That did not even occur to me. She said she was also concerned that he would look around and see how the school was run. Right, like she has "trade secrets." He owns a music academy and she poorly runs an English academy. I don't see how that's related.
I laughed, told her obviously our cultures are vastly different and explained to her that he was just dropping something off for me and that was it. She asked if next time I need a male friend to come to Talking Club for any reason and it's at night or I'm alone, if he could just stay outside the building or she would need to be there. Otherwise, I would need to give her my key to Talking Club. You bet, Agnes.
It didn't make me mad, it just made me laugh. It has been SUCH a learning experience living in South Korea.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Stepford-ville
I really love one of my adult students, Misoo. She is 45 years old and married to a German man. She's originally from Korea, but has lived and traveled all over the world. She speaks her mind, which is very rare for a Korean, and constantly asks me questions about my experiences in the U.S. and in Korea.
When she's in class, we almost never open the book we're supposed to be studying from. She and I usually just end up chatting. Tonight we had a very long discussion about the culture of Korean education. The class also has two other students, both female high school students. The girls are usually mute during class, even though they speak near-perfect English, but for the last couple weeks they've been offering more and more opinions about things.
Korean students are frequently in school for more than 12 hours a day. They must wear uniforms and they must choose from only two variations of only two hairstyles. They can either have long, non-layered, shoulder-length hair with bangs; long, non-layered, shoulder-length hair without bangs; bobbed, non-layered hair with bangs; or bobbed, non-layered hair without bangs. Make-up is not allowed. No variations of the school uniform colors are allowed. Everyone looks exactly the same. The girls said it was because the school administrators think a homogenous look helps students focus on studies more.
Misoo said there are certain looks throughout the different ages, as well. Once a woman graduates from school and hits her 20s, there is a certain hairstyle. Once she hits her 30s, another hairstyle is chosen that all the other women in their 30s also have and this continues throughout the increasing decades.
The conversation that started it all was Misoo discussing the tendency for Koreans to never have ideas of their own. She explained that when a popular person in a school setting decides they don't like someone, then the popular person will tell everyone else not to like that person until the entire school hates this one person because the popular person told them to. Eventually it leads to the suicide of the one hated person. The high school girls in my class agreed this is very common. Misoo went on to inform me that this idea carries over to adult life, as well. There are phenomenally high rates of suicide and alcoholism in Korea.
Koreans, Misoo explained, are very dependent people very early on in their lives so they become very easily swayed and malleable. Disagreeing with the pack is just not done. One is not allowed to have a differing opinion and if they do they keep their mouth shut. Korean people are deathly afraid of being lonely, so rather than risking being lonely, they will go along with whatever everybody else is saying or doing.
Appearances and everyone else's opinions are very important in the Korean culture. Misoo explained that she was actually very jealous of the Western culture, because we just don't care about anybody else, as she put it. Korean culture is very concerned about "the way things have always been done" and about tradition. Personalities and true selves are quashed very early on. Misoo said that she feels bitter for the way Korean culture has made the people and she must watch herself when she's in public because one must act in the Korean way at all times. She explained that she was upset because she feels that her lack of creativity was a result of the society she was raised in.
She's traveled extensively and lived abroad and now knows the world is a vast place full of opportunity and vitality. She fears for the girls growing up in Korea.
When she's in class, we almost never open the book we're supposed to be studying from. She and I usually just end up chatting. Tonight we had a very long discussion about the culture of Korean education. The class also has two other students, both female high school students. The girls are usually mute during class, even though they speak near-perfect English, but for the last couple weeks they've been offering more and more opinions about things.
Korean students are frequently in school for more than 12 hours a day. They must wear uniforms and they must choose from only two variations of only two hairstyles. They can either have long, non-layered, shoulder-length hair with bangs; long, non-layered, shoulder-length hair without bangs; bobbed, non-layered hair with bangs; or bobbed, non-layered hair without bangs. Make-up is not allowed. No variations of the school uniform colors are allowed. Everyone looks exactly the same. The girls said it was because the school administrators think a homogenous look helps students focus on studies more.
Misoo said there are certain looks throughout the different ages, as well. Once a woman graduates from school and hits her 20s, there is a certain hairstyle. Once she hits her 30s, another hairstyle is chosen that all the other women in their 30s also have and this continues throughout the increasing decades.
The conversation that started it all was Misoo discussing the tendency for Koreans to never have ideas of their own. She explained that when a popular person in a school setting decides they don't like someone, then the popular person will tell everyone else not to like that person until the entire school hates this one person because the popular person told them to. Eventually it leads to the suicide of the one hated person. The high school girls in my class agreed this is very common. Misoo went on to inform me that this idea carries over to adult life, as well. There are phenomenally high rates of suicide and alcoholism in Korea.
Koreans, Misoo explained, are very dependent people very early on in their lives so they become very easily swayed and malleable. Disagreeing with the pack is just not done. One is not allowed to have a differing opinion and if they do they keep their mouth shut. Korean people are deathly afraid of being lonely, so rather than risking being lonely, they will go along with whatever everybody else is saying or doing.
Appearances and everyone else's opinions are very important in the Korean culture. Misoo explained that she was actually very jealous of the Western culture, because we just don't care about anybody else, as she put it. Korean culture is very concerned about "the way things have always been done" and about tradition. Personalities and true selves are quashed very early on. Misoo said that she feels bitter for the way Korean culture has made the people and she must watch herself when she's in public because one must act in the Korean way at all times. She explained that she was upset because she feels that her lack of creativity was a result of the society she was raised in.
She's traveled extensively and lived abroad and now knows the world is a vast place full of opportunity and vitality. She fears for the girls growing up in Korea.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
New Year's Eve 2009: Seoul, SoKo
My friend, Ryan, whom I met freshman year at the University of Montana, came to visit with his girlfriend, Marita. I was their first stop on a trip to Southeast Asia. They arrived just after Christmas and left just after New Year's.
My friends in Dangjin had scattered plans. Some were going to Seoul, some were going to Busan for the sunrise. New Years is celebrated at dawn on New Year's Day in Korea. Everyone heads to the beach at dawn on New Year's Day and watches the sun rise. That was something I wanted to do, but Busan is on the very southern tip of South Korea and I just didn't have the funds to get there.
Ryan and Marita had been staying in Seoul and I met up with them during the day on New Year's Eve. We went to the Seoul World Cub Stadium and we couldn't actually see the stadium, we didn't have access to that, but there is a ginormous shopping center, with clothes, electronics, groceries, food court and a movie theater there. If anyone is interested, which we weren't. It's really no fun to shop when you weigh a good 50 pounds more than the country-people and you're a foot taller than them. Won't be doing a whole lot of clothes shopping in Korea.
We also went to Namdaemum Market - an overwhelmingly huge outdoor and indoor market selling everthing imaginable: food, art, clothes, jewelry, luggage, socks, seafood, kitchen stuff, everything.
After some food and "pre-funking" at Ryan and Marita's hotel, we made our way to Itaewon. Itaewon is an area of Seoul that has a huge shopping district and many foreigners also tend to congregate there. If you miss the Western world, you head to Itaewon. It's also a place where a lot of military men and women hang out, as a base is nearby. It also has an English bookstore and a foreign market where shoppers can find macaroni and cheese and other familiar foods.
On the subway on our way to Itaewon, a crazy old man would not stop talking to us. He looked Marita and me up and down and patted the seat next to him with a big, goofy grin on his face. I shook my head with a smile and said, "Aniyo (no), but thanks."
I swear to god he was practically licking his lips. He kept talking to us, none of us understood what the other was saying.
I was convinced he was drunk or on something. It was fairly early in the evening and he was well-dressed, so I have no idea what the deal was.
He looked at Ryan and kept saying something. I finally figured out that he was asking Ryan if he was married. Ryan said, "No." and then the guy pointed at Marita and me and essentially asked, "Which one is yours?" Ryan put an arm on both Marita's and my shoulders and said, "Both."
The Korean guy let out a raucous laugh and yelled, "Lucky!" Ryan just started laughing.
Thank god Itaewon wasn't a far ride on the subway.
We finally get there and decide to start bar-hopping. My friend, Teddy, was already at a party in Itaewon and we were supposed to meet up with him and his friends later.
We get to the first bar and I don't see a single Korean face in sight, except the bartenders and the women hanging all over the military men in the corner.
One white chick wearing a short, very low-cut silver sequined dress was playing pool with a big group of men with big, dopey grins on their faces. Every time the girl bent over to play pool, the bar got a show. All the guys had perma-grins on their faces and every time I caught their eyes, they had this wide-eyed, happy smirk on their faces. Geez, boys. Never seen cleavage before?
A chick at the table next to us decided she wasn't going to wear underwear despite how short her skirt was. We all had that unfortunate discovery. Didn't anyone learn anything from Britney?!
We decided we had enough of a show there and moved on to the next bar. The next bar was much more relaxed and we stayed there until midnight. I'd heard somewhere that at midnight there would be a big fireworks show and, as per Korean tradition, a bell would toll 33 times to ring in the New Year. We went out on the street with the rest of the revelers and heard no bell and saw someone's amateur fireworks show. I found out later that the bell was rung 33 times, just not in our vicinity, but I never did find out about the fireworks.
Afterward, we went to an Irish pub, the Wolfhound, where I had a very hungover breakfast on my birthday. The Wolfhound was absolutely packed. We stayed there just long enough for everyone to pee and for some scumbag to grab my crotch as we were trying to leave. I smacked the P.O.S. I would have liked to have hit him harder, but there's only so much reach one can get in a sardine-crammed bar.
After being fondled by a pathetic Western loser, Ryan and Marita and I went to a Hof to get some air and food. A Hof is a magical place that I frequent often since landing in Korea. Hofs are a bar/restaurant. It's a sit-down-at-a-table establishment that's primary focus is to serve giant pitchers of beer and appetizers. Hofs bring me great happiness.
The three of us went to a Hof nearby the Wolfhound, had a pitcher of beer and some fries. By then, Teddy had called and said he would meet us at the second bar we went to that evening.
The three of us made our way back to the bar, I can't remember what it's called. Teddy & Co. weren't there yet. But Marita and I decided to play darts, but the dart boards were already taken. So we asked the military boys who were playing if we could play with them. These guys had brought their own darts, so we really had no chance. So while Ryan kept the table and our coats company, Marita and I got our butts kicked by a couple of the U.S. Armed Forces' finest. But we didn't completely embarrass ourselves thanks to a generous and completely unbiased scorekeeper (had no idea who he was, but he was a friend of the military boys who was all about giving us extra points).
Eventually Teddy and his friends showed up and we all moved on to a different bar. The details get a little fuzzy after this point. I do know that I was adament about Marita and Ryan drinking soju. I hate soju, but it's a quintessential Korea experience and I had to make sure Ryan and Marita did not get on the plane without having had at least one shot of soju. Unfortunately, I made them drink a bottle of soju between the three of us.
I know I've said this before, but I absolutely hate soju. It's made from sweet potatoes and it's about 2,000 WON a bottle (about $1.70). It's absolutely F-O-U-L. It gets you crazy messed up, crazy fast and the hangover is out of this world. Yet, it always sounds like such a great idea at the time. I wonder how many times I'm going to say that this year?
Nonetheless, I made Marita and Ryan take shots of soju. Marita took them like a champ (gotta love those Norwegians) and Ryan whined a little bit, but I reigned supreme.
By the time we stumbled out of the bar it was about 5 a.m. Teddy & Co. headed home and Ryan, Marita and I hailed a cab. It took awhile for a cab to actually stop for us. And then the guy wanted (and succeeded) to charge us 30,000 WON for a 5 minute cab ride. I drunkenly yelled at the cabbie saying he was charging way too much for the ride, but he ended up getting the 30,000 WON anyway. He probably deserved it for dealing with assholes all night.
Ryan later put it into perspective; the cabbie was in Itaewon at 5 a.m. on New Year's morning where he most likely had been dealing with drunken assholes and military-persons (no offense to military-persons) all night. Some of said drunken assholes had probably walked out on paying their cab fare and the cabbie was probably plenty fed up with Waygooks and Meegooks. We were lucky just to get a cab. A few passed us by before this guy actually stopped for us. But still, 30,000 WON for a 5-minute ride?!!
My friends in Dangjin had scattered plans. Some were going to Seoul, some were going to Busan for the sunrise. New Years is celebrated at dawn on New Year's Day in Korea. Everyone heads to the beach at dawn on New Year's Day and watches the sun rise. That was something I wanted to do, but Busan is on the very southern tip of South Korea and I just didn't have the funds to get there.
Ryan and Marita had been staying in Seoul and I met up with them during the day on New Year's Eve. We went to the Seoul World Cub Stadium and we couldn't actually see the stadium, we didn't have access to that, but there is a ginormous shopping center, with clothes, electronics, groceries, food court and a movie theater there. If anyone is interested, which we weren't. It's really no fun to shop when you weigh a good 50 pounds more than the country-people and you're a foot taller than them. Won't be doing a whole lot of clothes shopping in Korea.
We also went to Namdaemum Market - an overwhelmingly huge outdoor and indoor market selling everthing imaginable: food, art, clothes, jewelry, luggage, socks, seafood, kitchen stuff, everything.
After some food and "pre-funking" at Ryan and Marita's hotel, we made our way to Itaewon. Itaewon is an area of Seoul that has a huge shopping district and many foreigners also tend to congregate there. If you miss the Western world, you head to Itaewon. It's also a place where a lot of military men and women hang out, as a base is nearby. It also has an English bookstore and a foreign market where shoppers can find macaroni and cheese and other familiar foods.
On the subway on our way to Itaewon, a crazy old man would not stop talking to us. He looked Marita and me up and down and patted the seat next to him with a big, goofy grin on his face. I shook my head with a smile and said, "Aniyo (no), but thanks."
I swear to god he was practically licking his lips. He kept talking to us, none of us understood what the other was saying.
I was convinced he was drunk or on something. It was fairly early in the evening and he was well-dressed, so I have no idea what the deal was.
He looked at Ryan and kept saying something. I finally figured out that he was asking Ryan if he was married. Ryan said, "No." and then the guy pointed at Marita and me and essentially asked, "Which one is yours?" Ryan put an arm on both Marita's and my shoulders and said, "Both."
The Korean guy let out a raucous laugh and yelled, "Lucky!" Ryan just started laughing.
Thank god Itaewon wasn't a far ride on the subway.
We finally get there and decide to start bar-hopping. My friend, Teddy, was already at a party in Itaewon and we were supposed to meet up with him and his friends later.
We get to the first bar and I don't see a single Korean face in sight, except the bartenders and the women hanging all over the military men in the corner.
One white chick wearing a short, very low-cut silver sequined dress was playing pool with a big group of men with big, dopey grins on their faces. Every time the girl bent over to play pool, the bar got a show. All the guys had perma-grins on their faces and every time I caught their eyes, they had this wide-eyed, happy smirk on their faces. Geez, boys. Never seen cleavage before?
A chick at the table next to us decided she wasn't going to wear underwear despite how short her skirt was. We all had that unfortunate discovery. Didn't anyone learn anything from Britney?!
We decided we had enough of a show there and moved on to the next bar. The next bar was much more relaxed and we stayed there until midnight. I'd heard somewhere that at midnight there would be a big fireworks show and, as per Korean tradition, a bell would toll 33 times to ring in the New Year. We went out on the street with the rest of the revelers and heard no bell and saw someone's amateur fireworks show. I found out later that the bell was rung 33 times, just not in our vicinity, but I never did find out about the fireworks.
Afterward, we went to an Irish pub, the Wolfhound, where I had a very hungover breakfast on my birthday. The Wolfhound was absolutely packed. We stayed there just long enough for everyone to pee and for some scumbag to grab my crotch as we were trying to leave. I smacked the P.O.S. I would have liked to have hit him harder, but there's only so much reach one can get in a sardine-crammed bar.
After being fondled by a pathetic Western loser, Ryan and Marita and I went to a Hof to get some air and food. A Hof is a magical place that I frequent often since landing in Korea. Hofs are a bar/restaurant. It's a sit-down-at-a-table establishment that's primary focus is to serve giant pitchers of beer and appetizers. Hofs bring me great happiness.
The three of us went to a Hof nearby the Wolfhound, had a pitcher of beer and some fries. By then, Teddy had called and said he would meet us at the second bar we went to that evening.
The three of us made our way back to the bar, I can't remember what it's called. Teddy & Co. weren't there yet. But Marita and I decided to play darts, but the dart boards were already taken. So we asked the military boys who were playing if we could play with them. These guys had brought their own darts, so we really had no chance. So while Ryan kept the table and our coats company, Marita and I got our butts kicked by a couple of the U.S. Armed Forces' finest. But we didn't completely embarrass ourselves thanks to a generous and completely unbiased scorekeeper (had no idea who he was, but he was a friend of the military boys who was all about giving us extra points).
Eventually Teddy and his friends showed up and we all moved on to a different bar. The details get a little fuzzy after this point. I do know that I was adament about Marita and Ryan drinking soju. I hate soju, but it's a quintessential Korea experience and I had to make sure Ryan and Marita did not get on the plane without having had at least one shot of soju. Unfortunately, I made them drink a bottle of soju between the three of us.
I know I've said this before, but I absolutely hate soju. It's made from sweet potatoes and it's about 2,000 WON a bottle (about $1.70). It's absolutely F-O-U-L. It gets you crazy messed up, crazy fast and the hangover is out of this world. Yet, it always sounds like such a great idea at the time. I wonder how many times I'm going to say that this year?
Nonetheless, I made Marita and Ryan take shots of soju. Marita took them like a champ (gotta love those Norwegians) and Ryan whined a little bit, but I reigned supreme.
By the time we stumbled out of the bar it was about 5 a.m. Teddy & Co. headed home and Ryan, Marita and I hailed a cab. It took awhile for a cab to actually stop for us. And then the guy wanted (and succeeded) to charge us 30,000 WON for a 5 minute cab ride. I drunkenly yelled at the cabbie saying he was charging way too much for the ride, but he ended up getting the 30,000 WON anyway. He probably deserved it for dealing with assholes all night.
Ryan later put it into perspective; the cabbie was in Itaewon at 5 a.m. on New Year's morning where he most likely had been dealing with drunken assholes and military-persons (no offense to military-persons) all night. Some of said drunken assholes had probably walked out on paying their cab fare and the cabbie was probably plenty fed up with Waygooks and Meegooks. We were lucky just to get a cab. A few passed us by before this guy actually stopped for us. But still, 30,000 WON for a 5-minute ride?!!
Monday, January 11, 2010
Harnessing My Chi
I had a HUGE (HUUUGE) fight with Agnes last week, which ended with me hanging up on her. I was ready to transfer schools or go home, I was done, over it.
My friends in Korea have been quietly trying to find me a different job so I can get out of the psychotic grasp of Agnes. I literally had the transfer papers in hand after our blow-out fight. I almost hit the woman, I have no idea how I kept it together enough to not physically touch her. I seriously wonder about her mental balance.
The woman tried to cheat me out of at least 4 days of payment I should have received (but she did not prevail). Luckily I called the corporate headquarters of Talking Club in Seoul and ever-so-politely asked about the policies of sick days, Christmas and mandatory week-long holidays off. Four days of missing payment is quite significant to someone who desperately needs that money. She seriously said I wasn't going to get paid for a sick day even when she was the one who had to take me to the hospital! And Christmas?! Christmas is a national-freaking-holiday in Korea and I wasn't going to get paid "because I didn't work that day." Are you kidding me?! Yeah, it's Christmas and she's a "Christian"! WTF?!
Anyway, I won't get into any more details about the dirt, but thanks to friends and family talking me off the ledge I've decided to stick it out with the woman and just finish my contract and then move on with my life.
I've had the goal of working abroad for far too long to let one person ruin my experience. I'm really enjoying living in Asia, it's just that pesky work environment that's getting in the way...
I came here for three very specific reasons: I wanted the cultural experience of living in an Asian country, I wanted to make some desperately needed money and I wanted to travel. That is it.
I adamently refuse, R-E-F-U-S-E to allow one person to wreck my experience of Korea, although she's trying her absolute hardest.
I will not let some inept, disorganized, cheating, two-faced psycho get the best of me. I know many people who would kill to live and work abroad and I'm incredibly lucky to be living the life I've chosen to lead and I will not be disrespecting those living vicariously through me by dreading every moment I'm here.
This is going to be a lesson in patience for me, which is not something I have a lot of. I'm also not very good at keeping my mouth shut when I think something is wrong. Again, something I will be working on this year. I will be learning a lot in the next 9 1/2 months. Let's just hope I'm better for it.
I'm working on breathing, meditating, talking to my friends here, saying "October, October, October" out loud, anything that will help me deal with her and just get me through the day with her.
That being said, I will still complain about the psycho bitch from Hell ad nauseum. I can honestly say I hate the woman. I've never said that about anyone in my life. I've strongly disliked people in my day, but "hate"? I've never, ever said that until now. It will be an interesting 9 1/2 months... (Yes, I have it down to the half-months.)
My friends in Korea have been quietly trying to find me a different job so I can get out of the psychotic grasp of Agnes. I literally had the transfer papers in hand after our blow-out fight. I almost hit the woman, I have no idea how I kept it together enough to not physically touch her. I seriously wonder about her mental balance.
The woman tried to cheat me out of at least 4 days of payment I should have received (but she did not prevail). Luckily I called the corporate headquarters of Talking Club in Seoul and ever-so-politely asked about the policies of sick days, Christmas and mandatory week-long holidays off. Four days of missing payment is quite significant to someone who desperately needs that money. She seriously said I wasn't going to get paid for a sick day even when she was the one who had to take me to the hospital! And Christmas?! Christmas is a national-freaking-holiday in Korea and I wasn't going to get paid "because I didn't work that day." Are you kidding me?! Yeah, it's Christmas and she's a "Christian"! WTF?!
Anyway, I won't get into any more details about the dirt, but thanks to friends and family talking me off the ledge I've decided to stick it out with the woman and just finish my contract and then move on with my life.
I've had the goal of working abroad for far too long to let one person ruin my experience. I'm really enjoying living in Asia, it's just that pesky work environment that's getting in the way...
I came here for three very specific reasons: I wanted the cultural experience of living in an Asian country, I wanted to make some desperately needed money and I wanted to travel. That is it.
I adamently refuse, R-E-F-U-S-E to allow one person to wreck my experience of Korea, although she's trying her absolute hardest.
I will not let some inept, disorganized, cheating, two-faced psycho get the best of me. I know many people who would kill to live and work abroad and I'm incredibly lucky to be living the life I've chosen to lead and I will not be disrespecting those living vicariously through me by dreading every moment I'm here.
This is going to be a lesson in patience for me, which is not something I have a lot of. I'm also not very good at keeping my mouth shut when I think something is wrong. Again, something I will be working on this year. I will be learning a lot in the next 9 1/2 months. Let's just hope I'm better for it.
I'm working on breathing, meditating, talking to my friends here, saying "October, October, October" out loud, anything that will help me deal with her and just get me through the day with her.
That being said, I will still complain about the psycho bitch from Hell ad nauseum. I can honestly say I hate the woman. I've never said that about anyone in my life. I've strongly disliked people in my day, but "hate"? I've never, ever said that until now. It will be an interesting 9 1/2 months... (Yes, I have it down to the half-months.)
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
We Ain't in America Anymore, Bohdi
I've never felt more unattractive or attractive in my life than I do in Korea.
I'm constantly gawked at, followed, questioned, smiled at, openly stared at and people frequently cross the street when they see me. It can be a pretty odd feeling.
When I go to restaurants, I'm stared at by both men and women, but the men continue to stare long after the women have gotten bored. School children stop to say hello and wave to me on the street. Older children follow me around in the grocery store so they can say hello and ask me questions in English.
I've had random strangers stop me to tell me I'm beautiful and they wish they had hair or eyes like mine. Men openly look me up and down and will completely turn around to watch me walk away once I've passed them, which completely skeeves me out.
Recently, I had yet another run-in with the illustrious Agnes and her lack of class and intelligence.
While I was waiting for a student who was going to be late to our one-on-one class, Agnes comes over to me dragging a little boy who was probably about 11 years old. She kept yelling at him, telling him to ask me how to spell a word. He kept trying to get away, but she was pulling his arms and pushing him in front of me. She, very audibly, explained to me that the boy was afraid of me and he thought I was scary.
Agnes said, "Erika, the children are scared of you. You have a scary face and your eyes are too big. You've got to be nice to them and smile at them."
And she kept repeating this, in case I missed it the first time.
I sat there completely shocked, not quite sure if that really just happened. Meanwhile, the kid just stared at me.
I'm not so good at keeping my cool when people insult me to my face so I, viscerally, told Agnes that she was being incredibly rude and ridiculous. She ignored me and flitted off to attack her next victim. She left the poor kid to stare at me some more.
I asked him as nicely as I could possibly muster what word he needed to know how to spell and he mumbled something that sounded like "Hyundai." I said, "Like the car?" and he shook his head yes.
I thought it was odd that he would ask me how to spell "Hyundai" but whatever. Then Agnes comes back in, asks me if he asked how to spell "hundred" and I said, "Oh, I thought he said something else." She gets all crazy, drags the poor kid back into the office where I'm sitting and props him in front of me again. The poor kid looks like he's about ready to burst into tears.
Agnes keeps screaming at him to ask me and I'm just sitting there thinking, "What the hell is going on?! and I would so much rather be anywhere else on the planet than my current location."
She just keeps screaming at this poor kid and keeps screaming at me saying I have a scary face and my eyes are too big.
Agnes runs off to grab a stick she uses to hit children with when they misbehave. The stick is in the shape of a hook. She comes back screaming at the kid, waving this hook around in the air and I decide that I'm out of there.
Luckily, the mother of the student I was waiting for was on the phone, so thankfully I got to have a very broken conversation with her while the poor boy who needed to know how to spell "hundred" got the crap beat out of him.
A few minutes later, I was having a conversation with one of my fellow teachers, Adya, who is from India, about what just happened. She kept apologizing, saying she was so sorry that just happened to me. I was mad, but I felt horrible for that poor kid. I just hoped he didn't think it was my fault he got the crap beat out of him.
Then Adya said something that made me feel odd and really horrible.
"You are white and they are still racist toward you and they are still scared of you," she said.
She is an Indian woman married to an African man. They've told me horror stories of racism they've encountered while living in Korea.
The majority of Koreans I have come into contact with have less than tolerant racial attitudes. Obviously not everyone is racist here, but Korea is a pretty sheltered culture and people in Dangjin especially have not been exposed to many - if any - people outside their own race. They can be very ignorant about the outside world.
I definitely, obviously, feel very different here and I've never really experienced racism firsthand until I got here. Most people hate Americans and I've gotten a lot of heat for that, but to be spoken to or treated a certain way because of the color of my skin and what I look like is definitely new to me. It's an odd feeling, but by no means compares to what other "minority" groups endure. And if you're black or someone from the Philippines or Thailand in Korea -- forget it. You have a bullseye on your back. You are considered the lowest of the low. It's absolutely infuriating.
When I walked by Agnes again, after she was done beating the boy, I told her she had been incredibly rude and that situation was ridiculous. She looked down at her desk and said, "I know," and then quickly changed the subject. I told her I couldn't talk to her at the moment, I was too angry, and I walked away from her.
I really don't think she knows what she did. That's not the first time something like that has come out of her mouth. A couple days prior to this incident she told me my eyes were too big. (It's a common gripe from her.)
I told her, "No, they are NOT TOO big, they are just big."
She replied flippantly, "Oh yeah, yeah." and walked off.
And corporal punishment is a cultural norm in Korea, but knowing that is no less shocking when you see it happen in front of your own "too big" eyes.
I'm constantly gawked at, followed, questioned, smiled at, openly stared at and people frequently cross the street when they see me. It can be a pretty odd feeling.
When I go to restaurants, I'm stared at by both men and women, but the men continue to stare long after the women have gotten bored. School children stop to say hello and wave to me on the street. Older children follow me around in the grocery store so they can say hello and ask me questions in English.
I've had random strangers stop me to tell me I'm beautiful and they wish they had hair or eyes like mine. Men openly look me up and down and will completely turn around to watch me walk away once I've passed them, which completely skeeves me out.
Recently, I had yet another run-in with the illustrious Agnes and her lack of class and intelligence.
While I was waiting for a student who was going to be late to our one-on-one class, Agnes comes over to me dragging a little boy who was probably about 11 years old. She kept yelling at him, telling him to ask me how to spell a word. He kept trying to get away, but she was pulling his arms and pushing him in front of me. She, very audibly, explained to me that the boy was afraid of me and he thought I was scary.
Agnes said, "Erika, the children are scared of you. You have a scary face and your eyes are too big. You've got to be nice to them and smile at them."
And she kept repeating this, in case I missed it the first time.
I sat there completely shocked, not quite sure if that really just happened. Meanwhile, the kid just stared at me.
I'm not so good at keeping my cool when people insult me to my face so I, viscerally, told Agnes that she was being incredibly rude and ridiculous. She ignored me and flitted off to attack her next victim. She left the poor kid to stare at me some more.
I asked him as nicely as I could possibly muster what word he needed to know how to spell and he mumbled something that sounded like "Hyundai." I said, "Like the car?" and he shook his head yes.
I thought it was odd that he would ask me how to spell "Hyundai" but whatever. Then Agnes comes back in, asks me if he asked how to spell "hundred" and I said, "Oh, I thought he said something else." She gets all crazy, drags the poor kid back into the office where I'm sitting and props him in front of me again. The poor kid looks like he's about ready to burst into tears.
Agnes keeps screaming at him to ask me and I'm just sitting there thinking, "What the hell is going on?! and I would so much rather be anywhere else on the planet than my current location."
She just keeps screaming at this poor kid and keeps screaming at me saying I have a scary face and my eyes are too big.
Agnes runs off to grab a stick she uses to hit children with when they misbehave. The stick is in the shape of a hook. She comes back screaming at the kid, waving this hook around in the air and I decide that I'm out of there.
Luckily, the mother of the student I was waiting for was on the phone, so thankfully I got to have a very broken conversation with her while the poor boy who needed to know how to spell "hundred" got the crap beat out of him.
A few minutes later, I was having a conversation with one of my fellow teachers, Adya, who is from India, about what just happened. She kept apologizing, saying she was so sorry that just happened to me. I was mad, but I felt horrible for that poor kid. I just hoped he didn't think it was my fault he got the crap beat out of him.
Then Adya said something that made me feel odd and really horrible.
"You are white and they are still racist toward you and they are still scared of you," she said.
She is an Indian woman married to an African man. They've told me horror stories of racism they've encountered while living in Korea.
The majority of Koreans I have come into contact with have less than tolerant racial attitudes. Obviously not everyone is racist here, but Korea is a pretty sheltered culture and people in Dangjin especially have not been exposed to many - if any - people outside their own race. They can be very ignorant about the outside world.
I definitely, obviously, feel very different here and I've never really experienced racism firsthand until I got here. Most people hate Americans and I've gotten a lot of heat for that, but to be spoken to or treated a certain way because of the color of my skin and what I look like is definitely new to me. It's an odd feeling, but by no means compares to what other "minority" groups endure. And if you're black or someone from the Philippines or Thailand in Korea -- forget it. You have a bullseye on your back. You are considered the lowest of the low. It's absolutely infuriating.
When I walked by Agnes again, after she was done beating the boy, I told her she had been incredibly rude and that situation was ridiculous. She looked down at her desk and said, "I know," and then quickly changed the subject. I told her I couldn't talk to her at the moment, I was too angry, and I walked away from her.
I really don't think she knows what she did. That's not the first time something like that has come out of her mouth. A couple days prior to this incident she told me my eyes were too big. (It's a common gripe from her.)
I told her, "No, they are NOT TOO big, they are just big."
She replied flippantly, "Oh yeah, yeah." and walked off.
And corporal punishment is a cultural norm in Korea, but knowing that is no less shocking when you see it happen in front of your own "too big" eyes.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
A Minor Miscommunication
While out with a couple of my friends, we recently went to a local bar that was owned by the mother of a Korean friend of my friend, Simon.
The locals were already at the bar and they started long before we got there, as there were several bottles of beer and soju littering the table.
One of the girls introduced herself and then promptly passed out in the corner.
We all settled in with a few bottles of Korean brews "Hite," commonly referred to to as "Shite" and Cass, also known as "Ass," and some soju. God, I miss microbrews.
Simon's friend turned to him and said, "I like your tampons, they're cute."
"Huh?!" Simon replied.
The girl pointed to the indentations on Simon's cheeks, his dimples.
"Your tampons," she repeated.
My friends and I looked at each other and instantly erupted into uncontrollable laughter.
The poor girl kept saying, "What? What did I say?"
When Simon finally composed himself he said, "I'm so sorry, I don't usually laugh when a Korean misinterprets a word, but who told you those were called tampons?"
She explained that years ago she had lived in Canada and someone there told her dimples were called tampons.
Simon whipped out his cellphone, which has an English-to-Korean dictionary, typed in the word "tampon" and showed the girl the Korean result for tampon.
The poor girl bypassed red and went straight to purple -- she was so embarrassed. She kept hiding her face behind her hands and none of us could stifle our laughter. She was absolutely mortified.
"All these years I've been telling people they have nice tampons!" she exclaimed. "Oh my God!"
Now it's the running joke.
"Allright boys," I say. "Show me your tampons."
It's by far the best story of language confusion in Korea thus far.
The locals were already at the bar and they started long before we got there, as there were several bottles of beer and soju littering the table.
One of the girls introduced herself and then promptly passed out in the corner.
We all settled in with a few bottles of Korean brews "Hite," commonly referred to to as "Shite" and Cass, also known as "Ass," and some soju. God, I miss microbrews.
Simon's friend turned to him and said, "I like your tampons, they're cute."
"Huh?!" Simon replied.
The girl pointed to the indentations on Simon's cheeks, his dimples.
"Your tampons," she repeated.
My friends and I looked at each other and instantly erupted into uncontrollable laughter.
The poor girl kept saying, "What? What did I say?"
When Simon finally composed himself he said, "I'm so sorry, I don't usually laugh when a Korean misinterprets a word, but who told you those were called tampons?"
She explained that years ago she had lived in Canada and someone there told her dimples were called tampons.
Simon whipped out his cellphone, which has an English-to-Korean dictionary, typed in the word "tampon" and showed the girl the Korean result for tampon.
The poor girl bypassed red and went straight to purple -- she was so embarrassed. She kept hiding her face behind her hands and none of us could stifle our laughter. She was absolutely mortified.
"All these years I've been telling people they have nice tampons!" she exclaimed. "Oh my God!"
Now it's the running joke.
"Allright boys," I say. "Show me your tampons."
It's by far the best story of language confusion in Korea thus far.
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