New Year's Eve in Korea is pretty much the same elsewhere. Some people go to the big city, some make last minute plans, and some sleep during the big epic waste of time that is counting down to the new year. I've done NYC Times Square (never ever ever ever again) I've been by myself, I've done the last minute party. In short. I don't really have much affection for New Years celebrating. This year I cleaned my apartment. And when I say clean, I mean I wanted to enter the new year as clean as I possibly could. I'm tired and need a shower. Now I'm waiting to see what will happen for the rest of the night. Last year I slept during the countdown and woke up in 2011 refreshed. It was fantastic. Might happen again this year. "But Jennifer, you're in a foreign country! Shouldn't you go out and do something unique!?" Did you guys miss something? New Year's Eve is THE SAME. People gather around drink, stand in the cussing cold weather, count down (that is if they are still sober enough to remember how to count), and then the climax of the evening is over. Yay. We counted. Now we can go home.
2011 was a hard year, most of that hardship having to do with my first teaching job and living one of the worst places ever in NC. But it was also a good year. I have made a list of some of those events below. It's kind of a different way to celebrate the year and see how I've changed and grown. I did things I never thought possible (#7, 19), some exhausting things (#1-5), and some downright kick ass things. Hopefully, this list will get me thinking of what could appear on list next year's list. Enjoy. I know I did.
1. lived in two different countries.
2. lived in two different states in US.
3. lived at five different addresses. ( I moved a lot okay.)
4. Had my first real teaching job.
5. Survived my first real teaching job.
6. Went to a rooftop party in NYC.
7. Worked at a Marine Science Camp where my sister was my boss. (I have a degree in English and my sister is 4 yrs. younger than me.)
8. Learned how to drive a 15 passenger van.
9. Mastered chopsticks (cereal included)
10. Attended and participated in only one wedding.
11. Fell in love...with kpop.
12. Mourned with the rest of the world as we saw the last of Harry Potter.
13. Was accepted to a graduate school in Kentucky.
14. Decided not to go to graduate school in Kentucky.
15. Began learning a new language (my third).
16. Finished my very first short story! Just knowing it's finished is a huge accomplishment to me.
17. Broke down and admitted that I wanted a Kindle. I feel like I've betrayed the paper and ink gods.
18. Got a Kindle. Love it.
19. Navigated Seoul for my very first trip. Alone. At midnight.
20. Had a student in the US tell me that if it wasn't for my class they would have left school long ago and to please God don't leave. (tear)
21. Walked down the streets of New York feeling confident, happy, and at peace with who I was. No small feat for anyone. Especially in NYC.
22. Walked down the streets of Naju-Si Jellonamdo Province South Korea with that exact same feeling 7 months later.
Here's to 2012. I hope you freaking rock. If you don't...there isn't much I can do about it.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Christmas in Korea
Christmas...I waited a few days before doing a post about this. How does one describe spending a holiday (your favorite) away from all things familiar? I spent Christmas in a country that does little to celebrate the holiday. In fact Christmas Eve is a couple's day where little pairs of lovers stroll the streets holding hands leaning in close to whisper and to smile. Barf...
My Dad acts like a kid the day after Thanksgiving, which is when Christmas season officially starts. We load up in his truck and head to Lowe's and buy an outdoor Christmas decoration. My Dad doesn't need a reason to go to Lowe's. It's his happy place, but this day there is a special child like glean in his eye. What should we get, a reindeer? Carolers? Snoopy sleeping in his Christmasy decorated doghouse? All have been purchased in the past.
There is a sense of happiness in the house that is only accompanied by Christmas. My parents are on vacation which means they aren't stressed and can sleep late, cook breakfast, drink coffee sitting down, etc. Calendars are full of church activities, Christmas parties, shopping, gift wrapping, and grocery shopping. But we're a bit happier with this sort of busyness because it's Christmas. We only do this once a year.
Christmas morning is marked by my sister and I getting up early to open presents from "Santa", breathe in the heavenly sent of breakfast casserole and coffee, try to sneak sausage balls from the Christmas tin that they are hidden in, only to be caught by my Mother who throws things at us. When other families gather for Christmas I'm not sure what they do, but mine...for my family Christmas we make wrapping paper torpedoes and other weapons of mass destruction to launch at one another after the gifts have been opened. Adults leave the room and my 35 yr. old brother starts the battle. Cousins dive behind one another to take cover from the rain of wrapping paper bullets. We truly are a loving and selfish family. Our stomachs groan at us and we wonder how much more we can eat, saying, "no, I shouldn't", all the while grabbing another slice of red velvet cake. We put on all of our new Christmas clothing, watch whatever DVD we received from Santa, and all promptly fall asleep on the couch. Wrapping paper wars are tiresome after all.
So this year was different. You know, not much different. I met a friend for coffee on Christmas Eve. Her bus ran late and I sat in the coffee shop for an hour and a half. Alone. With couples everywhere. Staring at me. "Poor foreign girl. All alone on Christmas Eve." I willed them to stay and wait so that when my friend did arrive they would see that no, I wasn't a sad pathetic creature. I did have friends. But alas, when she arrived, few were left.
My Dad acts like a kid the day after Thanksgiving, which is when Christmas season officially starts. We load up in his truck and head to Lowe's and buy an outdoor Christmas decoration. My Dad doesn't need a reason to go to Lowe's. It's his happy place, but this day there is a special child like glean in his eye. What should we get, a reindeer? Carolers? Snoopy sleeping in his Christmasy decorated doghouse? All have been purchased in the past.
There is a sense of happiness in the house that is only accompanied by Christmas. My parents are on vacation which means they aren't stressed and can sleep late, cook breakfast, drink coffee sitting down, etc. Calendars are full of church activities, Christmas parties, shopping, gift wrapping, and grocery shopping. But we're a bit happier with this sort of busyness because it's Christmas. We only do this once a year.
Christmas morning is marked by my sister and I getting up early to open presents from "Santa", breathe in the heavenly sent of breakfast casserole and coffee, try to sneak sausage balls from the Christmas tin that they are hidden in, only to be caught by my Mother who throws things at us. When other families gather for Christmas I'm not sure what they do, but mine...for my family Christmas we make wrapping paper torpedoes and other weapons of mass destruction to launch at one another after the gifts have been opened. Adults leave the room and my 35 yr. old brother starts the battle. Cousins dive behind one another to take cover from the rain of wrapping paper bullets. We truly are a loving and selfish family. Our stomachs groan at us and we wonder how much more we can eat, saying, "no, I shouldn't", all the while grabbing another slice of red velvet cake. We put on all of our new Christmas clothing, watch whatever DVD we received from Santa, and all promptly fall asleep on the couch. Wrapping paper wars are tiresome after all.
So this year was different. You know, not much different. I met a friend for coffee on Christmas Eve. Her bus ran late and I sat in the coffee shop for an hour and a half. Alone. With couples everywhere. Staring at me. "Poor foreign girl. All alone on Christmas Eve." I willed them to stay and wait so that when my friend did arrive they would see that no, I wasn't a sad pathetic creature. I did have friends. But alas, when she arrived, few were left.
We had coffee, went shopping at the equivalent of the Korean Wal-Mart (what were we thinking!?), ate Burger King, headed to a Christmas party where about 20 foreigners gathered together and tried to push the thoughts of how they could be spending Christmas with families and friends that weren't virtual strangers. We smiled and laughed, had food that was strange to us, we even had a white elephant gift exchange (I received a can of beer and a bottle of wine). But in the back of everyone's mind we all wanted to slink off to a corner and have a wee cry. But we didn't. We chose this life.
So yes, this year I might have slept on the floor, wrapped up in a sheet on Christmas Eve and woken up to fresh snow covering everything. I might have missed my family and wished that I could have opened presents with them and thrown my sister into the path of an oncoming wrapping paper torpedo, but I did get to spend Christmas with other people who felt the exact same way I did. I got to laugh with new friends, eat good food, play in the snow, and watch the Griswold's Christmas Vacation. If anything, I got to play in the snow. Never have I done that on Christmas.
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| Christmas morning snow |
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| Merry Christmas |
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
"What the...Kim Jong Il is Dead!" Wednesday
It's everywhere. I can't go anywhere and not hear about it. Kim Jong Il "The Great Leader" died. We know. We get it.
As an American, this was big news to me. I became really interested in North Korea (NK) in college after watching a National Geographic special. How an entire country could worship and follow one man, cut itself off from the rest of the world, and be a blank slate on google maps was beyond me. It fascinated me. Here in the Republic of Korea (the south) NK is just a crazy crazy country that causes problems every once and a while. Now a days, there are few who can distinctly recall the Korean War and there are precious few who have family still alive in the North. When the news reached Koreans there was a mix of emotions: mothers were nervous that their sons would be sent to war, families stocked up on ramyun, some celebrated with soju, while business men worried about their stocks plunging. There is no war, people stock up ramyun anyway, stocks did plunge, and there is still some soju left over. Korea moves on, all the while watching their northern neighbor with a weathered eye. They have, after all, been at war with the North since the 1950's.
When I watched that National Geographic special, they showed a clip of a mother and daughter walking hand in hand headed towards school. They were happy. They were an idyllic mother daughter couple. They were singing a lullaby about the blood of Americans flowing down the streets. Horrified? I was. After more research, it turns out that NK teaches it's citizens that the Americans invaded Korea, started the war, and are imperialist. Fantastic. Perhaps this is why Americans are so interested in the North. We are the enemy. We persuaded the south to follow our imperialistic ways and kill/torture/throw nukes at anyone and everyone who opposed. Muahaha
I have always looked at NK from a humanitarian point of view. Kim Jong Il has allowed his people to starve while he enjoys fine wines. He has opened labor camps and forced people who "break the law" (aka don't do worship him with every fiber in their Korean bodies) to live in a "Korean concentration camp" while his son, "The Great Successor" is fat and chunky and attended school in Switzerland. If people are caught defecting to China or the ROK they are killed, tortured, or put into labor camps until they die of exhaustion and starvation. Oh wait! Didn't Kim Jong Il die of exhaustion working for the good of the people? That's what the NK state television said. That's what none of us believe.
Many of us here in Korea, expats and Koreans alike, hope for a better future economically, politically, and nuclear (ly) between the two countries that share the same peninsula. We hope that the NK's are secretly excited that the Dear Leader is gone and that now their country and their people might have a chance at peace, growth, and a life without monthly food and fuel rations. It is my prayer and thought that truth and hope would enter into the country and that the people around NK (ROK, Japan, China, Russia) would want the same. One can dream right?
And for your viewing pleasure, this website which is freaking hilarious and always good for a laugh: Kim Jong Il looking at things.
As an American, this was big news to me. I became really interested in North Korea (NK) in college after watching a National Geographic special. How an entire country could worship and follow one man, cut itself off from the rest of the world, and be a blank slate on google maps was beyond me. It fascinated me. Here in the Republic of Korea (the south) NK is just a crazy crazy country that causes problems every once and a while. Now a days, there are few who can distinctly recall the Korean War and there are precious few who have family still alive in the North. When the news reached Koreans there was a mix of emotions: mothers were nervous that their sons would be sent to war, families stocked up on ramyun, some celebrated with soju, while business men worried about their stocks plunging. There is no war, people stock up ramyun anyway, stocks did plunge, and there is still some soju left over. Korea moves on, all the while watching their northern neighbor with a weathered eye. They have, after all, been at war with the North since the 1950's.
When I watched that National Geographic special, they showed a clip of a mother and daughter walking hand in hand headed towards school. They were happy. They were an idyllic mother daughter couple. They were singing a lullaby about the blood of Americans flowing down the streets. Horrified? I was. After more research, it turns out that NK teaches it's citizens that the Americans invaded Korea, started the war, and are imperialist. Fantastic. Perhaps this is why Americans are so interested in the North. We are the enemy. We persuaded the south to follow our imperialistic ways and kill/torture/throw nukes at anyone and everyone who opposed. Muahaha
I have always looked at NK from a humanitarian point of view. Kim Jong Il has allowed his people to starve while he enjoys fine wines. He has opened labor camps and forced people who "break the law" (aka don't do worship him with every fiber in their Korean bodies) to live in a "Korean concentration camp" while his son, "The Great Successor" is fat and chunky and attended school in Switzerland. If people are caught defecting to China or the ROK they are killed, tortured, or put into labor camps until they die of exhaustion and starvation. Oh wait! Didn't Kim Jong Il die of exhaustion working for the good of the people? That's what the NK state television said. That's what none of us believe.
Many of us here in Korea, expats and Koreans alike, hope for a better future economically, politically, and nuclear (ly) between the two countries that share the same peninsula. We hope that the NK's are secretly excited that the Dear Leader is gone and that now their country and their people might have a chance at peace, growth, and a life without monthly food and fuel rations. It is my prayer and thought that truth and hope would enter into the country and that the people around NK (ROK, Japan, China, Russia) would want the same. One can dream right?
And for your viewing pleasure, this website which is freaking hilarious and always good for a laugh: Kim Jong Il looking at things.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Grocery Shopping in Korea
One of my favorite things to do in the whole wide world is to go grocery shopping. I know. It's strange. I can't explain why. Whole Foods (whoop whoop), Harris Teeter, Food Lion, Aldi, Piggly Wiggly, I love them all. Grab a grocery cart and steer my way in, I start in the fruit and veggies (as do most people), skip the seafood section (hate hate hate fishy smells), and end my trip by browsing the dairy section. Perhaps it's the possibilities that await in a grocery store, new recipes stuffed in my bag, ingredients dripping off the page and jumping into my cart. When I get home I organize all of my purchases and will always always cook a full meal that night, including a dessert, with my fresh off the shelf groceries.
Grocery shopping in Korea is no different. I. Love. It. I don't like, however, having to carry all of my groceries all the way back home. In thecold/hot/wind/rain/snow whatever weather we're having that day. But as I'm sure some of you are curious as to how grocery shopping is different I thought I would share with you a few pictures from my local store: The Hanaro Mart.
Now, obviously, I have difficulties buying a few products. I can't read Korean well enough to be able to translate what I'm buying. Laundry detergent is just a guess and grab item, while cheese is almost non-existent, and seafood is a stand and gawk section. Fruit and veggies are EXPENSIVE so I usually grab one or two items and move on.
Grocery shopping in Korea is no different. I. Love. It. I don't like, however, having to carry all of my groceries all the way back home. In the
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| and so colorful too |
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| Live squid |
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| A staple in every Korean grocery store, red pepper paste. |
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| Not sure what laundry detergent to get? Me either. |
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| There is no such thing as a "dry"Korea. Here is the liquor/beer section. |
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| Doesn't get any fresher than that folks. |
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| Ramyun, because it's actually really good here and as always, cheap. |
I tried not to take a large amount of pictures as to escape that "look another waygook with a camera" stereotype. I hope you get the general gist of things. The layout is the same, veggies first, dairy last, skip the seafood section. No actually, I don't do that because the seafood section here is way more cooler than American stores. I mean look at the size of those crabs. That is what she said anyway.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
My life is one big "What the..." moment
My life is one big "what the..." moment. Truth is this past week has been overwhelming and exhausting. I'm tired. December has been...well...busy: Christmas shopping, first trip to Seoul, realizing that being an ESL teacher is nothing like teaching English to high schoolers. This list could go on and on. Lately, the scales are starting to fall from my eyes when I look at Korea. I hate that I can't speak the language and that little things like clothes shopping, or ordering a coffee can reduce me to a big frustrated tearful English speaking blob. Being a foreigner in a less foreigner friendly place is hard. Really hard. I walk into a shop and the clerks cluster around each other whispering in their rapid Korean tongues, "Oh crap, a foreigner. Who speaks English? No one! Okay rock paper scissors who has to help her..." Sometimes it's humorous to see their panic. It really is comical. But then sometimes you just feel like one big freak, which isn't comical (ok maybe sometimes).
In the States, I was confident of my teaching abilities. Sure there were some days when I would collapse at my desk and think, "Did they learn anything at all today? Probably not." But I knew that I could teach. I was capable of being a competent teacher. But here...here I question myself everyday. How can they not understand Present Perfect Continuous Tense?! How can he not make up a sentence?! Why aren't they answering me and giving me blank stares?! Am I speaking a different language or something?!
Oh wait...
yes. Yes I am.
I have to remind myself that this type of learning and teaching takes more time and patience than I'm used to. When my kid students stare at me not understanding anything, inside my head I'm screaming, "GOD you are so stupid! How are you not getting this?"Don't judge me. I said I say it in my head. Breathe teacha breathe.
Don't misunderstand, Korea is a spectacular place to be. People are helpful, the food is so good that I crave it and don't know what to request from home anymore because I'm so satisfied with the cuisine here, I have a great job with great people, Korean fashion this season includes massive sweaters over leggings which means I can actually buy clothes, public transportation is on time and efficient, coffee shops are on every corner, the weather is stellar, TV shows never disappoint, and it snowed last week. I don't regret moving to this country at all, but I wish that I could find a English novel, a coffee store that opened before 10am, and a bus driver that didn't want to kill me. I told one of my students that I was going to Gwangju after work yesterday and he became concerned. He said, "Jennifer, you are a stranger here."
I know. Everyday, I know.
On the upside, here are some pictures of the snow last week that had me quoting Robert Frost and dancing around with arms outstretched.
In the States, I was confident of my teaching abilities. Sure there were some days when I would collapse at my desk and think, "Did they learn anything at all today? Probably not." But I knew that I could teach. I was capable of being a competent teacher. But here...here I question myself everyday. How can they not understand Present Perfect Continuous Tense?! How can he not make up a sentence?! Why aren't they answering me and giving me blank stares?! Am I speaking a different language or something?!
Oh wait...
yes. Yes I am.
I have to remind myself that this type of learning and teaching takes more time and patience than I'm used to. When my kid students stare at me not understanding anything, inside my head I'm screaming, "GOD you are so stupid! How are you not getting this?"Don't judge me. I said I say it in my head. Breathe teacha breathe.
Don't misunderstand, Korea is a spectacular place to be. People are helpful, the food is so good that I crave it and don't know what to request from home anymore because I'm so satisfied with the cuisine here, I have a great job with great people, Korean fashion this season includes massive sweaters over leggings which means I can actually buy clothes, public transportation is on time and efficient, coffee shops are on every corner, the weather is stellar, TV shows never disappoint, and it snowed last week. I don't regret moving to this country at all, but I wish that I could find a English novel, a coffee store that opened before 10am, and a bus driver that didn't want to kill me. I told one of my students that I was going to Gwangju after work yesterday and he became concerned. He said, "Jennifer, you are a stranger here."
I know. Everyday, I know.
On the upside, here are some pictures of the snow last week that had me quoting Robert Frost and dancing around with arms outstretched.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
What the Wednesday
What a Wednesday it has been here in Korea. Today I bought a train ticket to Seoul, my first official visit to the capital, and was in a bus accident. I was not lying when I said bus riding was scary. No injuries, just people not looking where they're going. This just happens to be the first one I've been in and about the fourth one I've seen. Ah Korea.
But for this week's "What the...Wednesday" I bring...Love Motels.
The name pretty much explains everything. Men or women having affairs frequent here, young unmarried men and women too. Usually young people leave college and move back home because buying (you don't rent) an apartment is ridiculously expensive, so meeting a 27 year old guy who still lives with mom and pops is perfectly normal and acceptable. But when he wants to have some special time with that special lady of his...to the love motel it is. And last but not least, the occasional expat who needs a cheap place to stay, we head to the love motel. Now this isn't some nasty, disgusting, littered with...er...nastiness for the lack of a better word. They can be clean and usually fit the need (a place to sleep for the night). Most city buses stop running past a certain time, and the Naju-Gwangju bus stops at 10:30pm, so if you want a night out, then you have to spend the entire night in said city. W45,000 ($47) got my friend and I two beds, a separate bath room, and a jacuzzi bathtub. Split between two people and you have an amazing deal. So without further ado here is...the love motel.
When the family vacations they don't stay in a love motel. They go to an actual hotel with non-rubbery sheets. Now don't get me wrong, you can stay in some pretty nasty places, but this was not one of them. Strange, yes. Clean, God I hope so. Safe, yes. Collection of soft porn in the hallway, yes. What the...
But for this week's "What the...Wednesday" I bring...Love Motels.
The name pretty much explains everything. Men or women having affairs frequent here, young unmarried men and women too. Usually young people leave college and move back home because buying (you don't rent) an apartment is ridiculously expensive, so meeting a 27 year old guy who still lives with mom and pops is perfectly normal and acceptable. But when he wants to have some special time with that special lady of his...to the love motel it is. And last but not least, the occasional expat who needs a cheap place to stay, we head to the love motel. Now this isn't some nasty, disgusting, littered with...er...nastiness for the lack of a better word. They can be clean and usually fit the need (a place to sleep for the night). Most city buses stop running past a certain time, and the Naju-Gwangju bus stops at 10:30pm, so if you want a night out, then you have to spend the entire night in said city. W45,000 ($47) got my friend and I two beds, a separate bath room, and a jacuzzi bathtub. Split between two people and you have an amazing deal. So without further ado here is...the love motel.
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| Compete with bug spray and condoms, for confidence. Confident there are no bugs or babies? Maybe both? |
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| Mood lighting. Red was on the other side.Green means go? |
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| Pictures on the wall. Bathing beauties donning robs and mud face masks. |
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| Biggest bathtub in Korea! |
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| View from the window. Notice the castle. |
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Sometimes I miss college
My sister is stressed. Really stressed. It's her last semester of undergrad and it's finals time. We talked about it today on Skype (God bless the maker of Skype!). As she was talking, I got to thinking about my undergraduate experience and how I strangely missed it. So be forewarned, this post has nothing to do with Korea. Nothing. Go to the sidebar now and choose another blogger to hear more about Korea. No really. Ok, I told you so...
When my sister was bemoaning the fact that she had to sit in the middle of a row of books today because all the desks were taken in the library, I started remembering those days when I had my favorite nook among those stacks of books, all warm and safe, smells of books and paper wrapped around me like a scarf. The seventh floor of Jackson, where I could look out over the fountain, that I had once jumped in and made a fool of myself, and just get a glimpse of downtown Greensboro. If I happened upon someone in my seat, I would get angry. "How dare you sit there! That is mine! Have you even been inside the library before? I've never seen you. If I see you here again, in my seat, I will cut you." Good spots in the library are hard to find ok? We all go a little crazy during finals, which was the only time the library was the place to be and someone would be in my seat. I would trudge to the basement, the place that others hadn't quite discovered, and study, memorizing lines and lines of Modern British and European poetry, translating Middle English to Modern. One professor had the splendid idea that on his final he would include two line excerpts from five poems in which we had to name the poem, the author, and one fact about the author of each excerpt. We had anywhere between 30-45 poems to choose from. By the end of the night the librarian would find a huddled mass swaying back and forth on the floor, surrounded by Coke cans and Peanut Butter M&M packages, muttering lines from poems, mixing Eliot with Langston. Oh the horror of such a mistake.
My college experience can be summarized with 2am walks around campus with friends, meeting up at the tennis courts to chat and laugh, escaping to Tate St. Coffee, a coffee shop close to campus, to start writing (my new found love), bundling up and sledding in the snow with trays from the caf, long hours in McIver and the Hoorah( HHRH) buildings, friends made and lost, hearts hurt and equally mended, whispers of the life that we could lead once we graduated.
I wish I could back to that desk in the library sit down with younger Jennifer and say, "don't try to figure it out now. The only way you're going to really figure it out is by going out there and living. Trust me it will make life easier to not worry. Forget that guy's name, in four years you won't remember him anyway. For the love of all that is good and holy don't cut your hair like that again, no matter what your friends say. You know they are only being nice. By the way, you know how you've been wanting to go and live in Ireland or Seattle or somewhere? Yeah, you're not. You're going to live in Korea"
It's as if I lived as a different person, planning a different life, because where I am now is not at all where I expected to be. I mean not even close. So far off, I would that perhaps I am a different person, or maybe I was just working to become that person I am now.
In recent visits with friends to my alma mater, when we step onto college avenue we are five years younger. Hair isn't thinning or receding or graying (God, how do you stop the graying!?). Thoughts of bills, debt, kids, futures undecided and uncertain, all disappear. We grab sidewalk chalk and a beat up volleyball and play four-square (because we're cool and old school like that), and ignore the fact that there are a hundred other places we could have gone, but decided only college ave. had the square space and therefore we had to come to campus. There really was no other choice. Then when we're tired and it's close to 1am and the "I can't believe I stayed out this late"'s are said we step off campus and become adults again; each going to whatever house or apartment we pay the mortgage/ rent for. Kids entering the grown-up world. We adjust, we move with the shifts of change, and we always know that to look back every once and a while is ok.
But no really, how do you stop the graying hair? Anyone? Anyone...?
When my sister was bemoaning the fact that she had to sit in the middle of a row of books today because all the desks were taken in the library, I started remembering those days when I had my favorite nook among those stacks of books, all warm and safe, smells of books and paper wrapped around me like a scarf. The seventh floor of Jackson, where I could look out over the fountain, that I had once jumped in and made a fool of myself, and just get a glimpse of downtown Greensboro. If I happened upon someone in my seat, I would get angry. "How dare you sit there! That is mine! Have you even been inside the library before? I've never seen you. If I see you here again, in my seat, I will cut you." Good spots in the library are hard to find ok? We all go a little crazy during finals, which was the only time the library was the place to be and someone would be in my seat. I would trudge to the basement, the place that others hadn't quite discovered, and study, memorizing lines and lines of Modern British and European poetry, translating Middle English to Modern. One professor had the splendid idea that on his final he would include two line excerpts from five poems in which we had to name the poem, the author, and one fact about the author of each excerpt. We had anywhere between 30-45 poems to choose from. By the end of the night the librarian would find a huddled mass swaying back and forth on the floor, surrounded by Coke cans and Peanut Butter M&M packages, muttering lines from poems, mixing Eliot with Langston. Oh the horror of such a mistake.
My college experience can be summarized with 2am walks around campus with friends, meeting up at the tennis courts to chat and laugh, escaping to Tate St. Coffee, a coffee shop close to campus, to start writing (my new found love), bundling up and sledding in the snow with trays from the caf, long hours in McIver and the Hoorah( HHRH) buildings, friends made and lost, hearts hurt and equally mended, whispers of the life that we could lead once we graduated.
I wish I could back to that desk in the library sit down with younger Jennifer and say, "don't try to figure it out now. The only way you're going to really figure it out is by going out there and living. Trust me it will make life easier to not worry. Forget that guy's name, in four years you won't remember him anyway. For the love of all that is good and holy don't cut your hair like that again, no matter what your friends say. You know they are only being nice. By the way, you know how you've been wanting to go and live in Ireland or Seattle or somewhere? Yeah, you're not. You're going to live in Korea"
It's as if I lived as a different person, planning a different life, because where I am now is not at all where I expected to be. I mean not even close. So far off, I would that perhaps I am a different person, or maybe I was just working to become that person I am now.
In recent visits with friends to my alma mater, when we step onto college avenue we are five years younger. Hair isn't thinning or receding or graying (God, how do you stop the graying!?). Thoughts of bills, debt, kids, futures undecided and uncertain, all disappear. We grab sidewalk chalk and a beat up volleyball and play four-square (because we're cool and old school like that), and ignore the fact that there are a hundred other places we could have gone, but decided only college ave. had the square space and therefore we had to come to campus. There really was no other choice. Then when we're tired and it's close to 1am and the "I can't believe I stayed out this late"'s are said we step off campus and become adults again; each going to whatever house or apartment we pay the mortgage/ rent for. Kids entering the grown-up world. We adjust, we move with the shifts of change, and we always know that to look back every once and a while is ok.
But no really, how do you stop the graying hair? Anyone? Anyone...?
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
What the Wednesday: Konglish Edition
This week's "What the..." Wednesday is part one of a series I am beginning especially for WTW called, "Konglish". Now Konglish is obviously a mix between Korean and English. (Did I really need to explain that?) It happens everywhere in Korea and causes native English speakers to stop, read, and laugh. It happens in/on apparel, Kdramas, Kpop, shampoo bottles, stuff posing as ketchup...you get the gist. So for the introduction to Konglish I bring you a grocery bag from my local store. Simple enough right?
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| Just a normal bag the fantastically wonderful baker woman put my bread in. |
But upon closer inspection...
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| Konglish at it's best. |
Now, the baker woman at my grocery store truly is awesome and always smiles when she sees me, waves hello, even if I don't buy anything from her. And if you overlook the mistakes, it's really a sweet little message; kind of makes your heart go "ahhh, I am cared about!"
Monday, November 28, 2011
Not quite the Blue Ridge
So anyone who's anyone knows the Blue Ridge Mountains and their splendor in the great state of North Carolina (biased?) Growing up on the eastern side of the state, I've always been quite comfortable with the Atlantic breeze blowing a bit of salt my way, but the mountains...they lift my soul and carry that sweet banjo music straight to my ear. I'm steadied and calm looking at that blue spread of hills.
I had my eyes on them ever since I wiped the jet lag away my second day here. Finding time and partners to go with me were what kept me from these beauties. There's a pagoda on top and at night it's lit up so you can see it all over Naju. But this weekend I found a good soul who was willing to go with me. A fellow expat here, Nic, had climbed the mountain several times, offered to take me and walked ahead of me as the hike went. Now I love a good hike. I'm slow, ahjumma slow, but I get where I'm going, thus the "walked ahead of me" bit.
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| Here's to the land of the long leaf pine. |
So when I landed myself in a country that is easily %80 mountains, I felt slightly at home (slightly). Right outside of my window I saw mountains that were ridiculously accessible and begging to be climbed.
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| View from my window. The mountain on the right foreground is the one from this tale. |
We talked about things we missed from home (Wendy's), how Coke from the fountain is better than canned Coke, the dear friend I have from my summer in Ireland that he knows (extremely small world!) and it all ceased once we reached the top. Actually, the talking ceased when we were hiking because I couldn't breathe, hike, and talk at the same time. The talking happened during the frequent breaks I took and during the "easier" parts of the hike...but you get my point.
Korea is called the Land of the Morning Calm, and I couldn't have disagreed with that title more (Korea, you are anything but calm). That same calm that I feel in the NC mountains overtook me once we reached the top (partly out of sheer exhaustion). Here is why.
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Hiking is labeled the "national sport" of Korea. No wonder.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Teaching Here Teaching There
Most expats that I meet are not teachers in their home countries. I am the rare exception; the one that comes to the country with a knowledge of pedagogy, constructivism, Gardner's theory, etc. etc. When other expats find out that standing before them is a real live teacher they have a few reactions/questions. 1) What's the biggest difference between the states and Korea? 2) Really? Like, you're an actual teacher? Oh. 3) So you must be, like, an awesome teacher here eh? (of course...)
I teach adults where conversation can run anywhere from the Free Trade Agreement to how to land myself a Korean boy toy. I have learned a significant bit of culture on that topic I can tell you. The children that I teach is no more than a hyped up tutor session with three students in one class, three in the next, and two in the last. Compared to other expats situations, I have it easy, and I will not argue with that. Public school teachers can sometimes have 600 students that they see on a weekly basis. They don't play here. Fo reals.
Kids are still kids, no matter the ethnicity. Everyone told me, "Oh Jennifer, you are going to love teaching in Korea. Asian kids are so disciplined, smart, and studious." Yeah, um, no. They are not. Just like in the states, some kids rock and you wish you could just take them home, other kids you want to grab by the collar, throw out the window while laughing wickedly, and glare at the class daring the next student to step out of line.
I've already spoken about my previous teaching experiences in the states and I've yet to see such horrific circumstances in students. In my last school I had a student tell me in a journal entry that when he was 14 his step-dad was beating his mother and he stepped in to defend her, beating up the step-dad in return. The mother called the police and pressed charges on her son. He went to juvenile detention and that's why he was a year behind in school. I've heard nothing like that, but I haven't met every child either.
Kids curse, are selfish, and pick their nose all day. They answer their cell phones in class, sneeze on you, and say, "no teacha" everyday, to everything, every time. Plus they don't understand %50 of what you say so "palm to face" happens about 20 times a day for me, and I only have eight kids. Imagine being in a hagwon or public school.
Being a licensed teacher helps me out all the time and just like during student teaching, where professors are throwing down those "theories" down our throats to make us "better teachers", more than anything I just need to know how to fix the copier (or read it). There are things I miss like curriculums, a discipline system that doesn't involve a corner, and supplies. I often had to buy my own school supplies in the states, but at least I knew exactly where to go for them, unlike here.
So while my stateside teaching experience consisted of restraining students during a fight, receiving students fresh out of rehab, and consoling those who just needed to cry, my Korean teaching experience still consist of discipline issues, problems with the higher ups, parents (who are sometimes worse than the kids), and a lack of concern from the kids. Sometimes it's so different you forget what you left behind in the states and then little Choi or Kim or Lee go and try standing on the table saying, "NO TEACHA! NO NOTEBOOK!" Aigoo.
Point is, there are good days, bad days, and "I'm never going back" days in every profession, teaching being no expectation. But I love teaching; opening their little mouths and throwing information down their throats, it's what I love and am usually good at, sometimes. If you're coming to Korea hoping for an easy job as a teacher, don't board that Asiana Airplane. Get off now. Return to your parent's house and look for another job. Now. This ain't for the weak son.
I teach adults where conversation can run anywhere from the Free Trade Agreement to how to land myself a Korean boy toy. I have learned a significant bit of culture on that topic I can tell you. The children that I teach is no more than a hyped up tutor session with three students in one class, three in the next, and two in the last. Compared to other expats situations, I have it easy, and I will not argue with that. Public school teachers can sometimes have 600 students that they see on a weekly basis. They don't play here. Fo reals.
Kids are still kids, no matter the ethnicity. Everyone told me, "Oh Jennifer, you are going to love teaching in Korea. Asian kids are so disciplined, smart, and studious." Yeah, um, no. They are not. Just like in the states, some kids rock and you wish you could just take them home, other kids you want to grab by the collar, throw out the window while laughing wickedly, and glare at the class daring the next student to step out of line.
I've already spoken about my previous teaching experiences in the states and I've yet to see such horrific circumstances in students. In my last school I had a student tell me in a journal entry that when he was 14 his step-dad was beating his mother and he stepped in to defend her, beating up the step-dad in return. The mother called the police and pressed charges on her son. He went to juvenile detention and that's why he was a year behind in school. I've heard nothing like that, but I haven't met every child either.
Kids curse, are selfish, and pick their nose all day. They answer their cell phones in class, sneeze on you, and say, "no teacha" everyday, to everything, every time. Plus they don't understand %50 of what you say so "palm to face" happens about 20 times a day for me, and I only have eight kids. Imagine being in a hagwon or public school.
Being a licensed teacher helps me out all the time and just like during student teaching, where professors are throwing down those "theories" down our throats to make us "better teachers", more than anything I just need to know how to fix the copier (or read it). There are things I miss like curriculums, a discipline system that doesn't involve a corner, and supplies. I often had to buy my own school supplies in the states, but at least I knew exactly where to go for them, unlike here.
So while my stateside teaching experience consisted of restraining students during a fight, receiving students fresh out of rehab, and consoling those who just needed to cry, my Korean teaching experience still consist of discipline issues, problems with the higher ups, parents (who are sometimes worse than the kids), and a lack of concern from the kids. Sometimes it's so different you forget what you left behind in the states and then little Choi or Kim or Lee go and try standing on the table saying, "NO TEACHA! NO NOTEBOOK!" Aigoo.
Point is, there are good days, bad days, and "I'm never going back" days in every profession, teaching being no expectation. But I love teaching; opening their little mouths and throwing information down their throats, it's what I love and am usually good at, sometimes. If you're coming to Korea hoping for an easy job as a teacher, don't board that Asiana Airplane. Get off now. Return to your parent's house and look for another job. Now. This ain't for the weak son.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
What the Wednesday
This weeks' "What the...? Wednesday: Skin Whitening Products.
This was given to me at a store as a free sample. Skin whitening is as popular here as tanning is in the states. Most teenagers in the States can't wait to emerge from the tanning box looking like Snooki while young Korean women lather on skin whitening products to maintain/get a creamy white complexion. They wear hats and use umbrellas to deflect the sun's harsh rays, and then use beauty products like this to reverse any adverse affects that horrid ball in the sky might have.
Come January, I won't need any product at all. I will probably be the envy of some Koreans and a white pasty disgusting glob to westerners. Reason # 129 why I love Korea.
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| Concentrated Skin Repairing System with Good Sleep Mechanism Technology WHITENING & Anti Wrinkle |
The dream of white skin dates back to when the only people who had pale skin were royalty. If you were a peasant you had a horrific tan from working in the fields. Oh the shame of hard work.
Come January, I won't need any product at all. I will probably be the envy of some Koreans and a white pasty disgusting glob to westerners. Reason # 129 why I love Korea.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Jane Austen figured out my life
A man asked me, “why did you come to Korea?” He posed it differently than everyone else had. There was emphasis put on “come” and his gaze was so intent, like he was ready for the bullshit answer that he had heard so many times before. This silenced my first thought, “to teach of course. Isn’t that what every foreigner is here for?” No, why did I really come to Korea? Why was I here?
It’s all because of Jane Austen really. I blame her. As I do for many things: the hope that Mr. Darcy/Mr Tilney/Mr Knightly really does exist, all quick-witted girls can land themselves a dashing, wealthy, gentleman, and sometimes all you need is a good muslin dress and fine eyes to land your man. Damn you Jane Austen for filling my head with such thoughts. But this time Jane actually got it right. In Mansfield Park she said, “life seems a quick succession of busy nothings.” A life full of little nothings. Hello Jennifer? This is your life calling. And so it was.
Everyday I got up, taught school, went home, had dinner, went to sleep. Maybe do something fun on the weekends or see family, but life was decidedly less exciting. I knew many a people who’s life had turned into what mine was and they had settled for it. They dated people with the same life, they were depressed at work, and they saw their life as a circle of never ending dullness. No. This couldn’t happen to me. Yet it had. I knew of a few ways to change it, some drastically, some not so much. First option was to change schools, which I considered doing. I considered changing professions. I despised that idea as I was still in debt from the schooling it took to acquire my teacher's license, and I actually really enjoyed teaching. A change of jobs was not going to happen.
My first real, official, teaching job was in a school that had...issues. The teenagers were walking zombies of texting, sex, and using the word "like" entirely too often, like really. Most of them were exactly as teenagers ought to be, creatures that should be holed up somewhere (school?) until they are deemed fit for society. Teaching them the difference between their, there, and they're was my life's mission, but there their lives kept getting in the way. For some this meant, "you want me to give you my phone?! F*&# off lady," or, "Sorry teach he isn't come to class today. He was arrested last night." It came to be that I was on the verge of actual depression because of my job and the fact that I was ridiculously tired of all the nothings that was my life. In a fateful moment of reading Mansfield Park, I knew I could not go back to that school, that job next year. I loved teaching. LOVED teaching. Seeing a kid get that "aha" face, the moment he understood something, is priceless and was the very reason I taught. But those moments weren't enough to keep me going until retirement. It was time to result to drastic measures...Korea.
Japan was my first thought. My father had been stationed in Japan in his early twenties and really enjoyed it. I grew up hearing him call my mother, "momma-san" and for a good while I thought my mother's name was "momma-san", all the other kids had it wrong. But Japan was quickly down because expats had to have a $4000 upstart to hold them over until they got paid. Ha. No. Did I mention the debt? Did you get that? So I had heard that Korea was pretty cool. They paid airfare, housing, insurance. Forget that small insignificant fact about Kim Jong Il and a Communist/Cult country that is approximately 220 miles from where you live, and you're golden.
But it was more than that. I needed to live in a place where all I had was myself; to take the talents and character that God had given/forced into me and make it through. I didn't want to rely on a man, my parents, any friend, to help me out in any situation. I wanted to be forced into situations that would turn this slightly frightened of looking like a fool, embarrassed, almost complacent person, into one that would be bold, adventurous, and free. Looking back at certain times in my life I can see where God had put me in situation after situation that refined my character into what it would need to be for this kind of life. I'm patient with others, (five years ago this was a laugh), I'm ok with not knowing where I am sometimes, I'm ok with eating strange food that might still have it's eyes or be moving (still getting used to that), and I also know that after falling many times when I fail (as that is often) there is a God who picks me up, dusts me off, and assures me that I can do this.
I couldn't live a bored life, an expected life. Get married. Check. Have kids. Check. I couldn't live that life. It was boring and what everyone expected and waited for with great anticipation. Why wait for one kind of life when there are so many other kinds of lives to be led? Is Korea perfect? No. I still fail and life can still suck; that doesn't change no matter what country you live in. This a seriously strange country that at times that makes me want to scream with frustration, but in the end, I love my job, love my students, and love the life I have chosen (damn all this refining along the way though).
So when the man asked me why I came to this country I simply said, "to live." And so I am.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Playing the Foreigner Card: Language and The Blank Face
As a foreigner in Korea, I have the option of playing the "Foreigner Card" and getting away with not knowing the rules of the culture, the language, how you're suppose to address certain people, when to bow, which side of the lunch tray my rice is supposed to go on, etc. But ask any sane person and you'll find that being out of the loop and perfecting the blank face gets old quickly. Here is my introduction into "Playing the Foreigner Card". The first topic is language. Know it or wither into a big stupid glob of a foreigner.
Last but not least, the Look I Know English, Just Let Me Speak English To You: I went through all the trouble of figuring out how to say, "more rice, water please" the least you could do is go with it, but no, you have to show me you know English. How prideful can you get (insert irony here)? At a traditional Korean restaurant this weekend my friend and I asked for more bap (rice) and the guy replies, "rice?" Damn you.
The two months before I arrived in Korea, I decided that learning Hangul (Korean alphabet) would be helpful, "hell I'll even learn some phrases", I thought. I found talktomeinKorean.com and I was off. I bought a notebook, sharpened my pencils, and wrote down the entire Hangul and proceeded to memorize it. I learned the consonants with no problem. Vowels, check. I'm sorry did you say double vowels? What? Oh that character doesn't translate to English. Oh...shit. All that to say, when I landed in Korea I knew how to say hello, thank you, goodbye, sorry, and what is this. I was excited I knew this much until I got out of the airport where everyone spoke English, then I was in Korea...where they speak Korean.
Walking down the street people would ask me questions and I would give them blank stares, my kid students would be jumping out of their chairs and yelling and all I could do was speak English and give the best damn teacher stare I could. The teacher stare has made many a high school students who had criminal records cower in fear. Korean children just stopped and stared back. Going to the bank, the hospital with my Korean contact made me feel like a complete idiot. The doctor would say something while looking at me, I return with the blank face, Dr. talks to Korean, Korean translates, "pee in cup. Bring back." Oh. Well... not only do I feel stupid now, but extremely awkward. How does this end?
Learn the damn language.
Korean is a difficult language, no way I'm saying it's not, but live in Korea and it gets a bit easier. Want to prepare some food? Learn Korean. Want to control the class? Learn Korean. Want to know what the ahjussi's (old Korean men) are saying as you walk by. Don't learn Korean. Trust me on that last one. Just keep walking.
A few of the local foreigners here and I are committed to not playing the foreigner card for a whole year or two while we're here. I refuse to feel stupid when I can change the way I respond to this country and it's quirks. Now whenever I meet up with my friends here in Naju we call over the waiter using Korean, ask for more water, can we have some rice, etc. But there is a problem in this "fitting in/impressing Koreans" plan, #1 they think you speak Korean fluently, #2 they answer you in English because they're Canadian Korean, Korean American, or from another Asian country all together and have no idea what you said in the first place, #3 they just want to speak English to you.
They Overestimate Your Korean Skills: You are super proud because you just asked them what something was and then they respond. You have no idea what they said. Enter Blank Face.
They keep talking to you. They might not understand the blank face. Panic sets in. Blank Face turns into Panic Face.
You have to start speaking English even though you know how say, "Sorry, I don't speak Korean well" in Korean. That only encourages this type.
They Don't Speak Korean: Just this week my Texan friend, Aimee and I went to Pizza School, a yummy pizza place, and asked the girl there what her name was in Korean. I had been to Pizza School a few times and she recognized me every time saying Hello! and I wanted to be friendly. When I asked her what her name was in Korean, she looked at me and said, "I'm Chinese." Give me a break Korea.
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| Sorry, you looked Korean. |
Then as we left we said goodbye in his mother tongue only to be ushered out hearing "Goodbye!" Damn you again. How dare you take this away from us!
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| English? Korean? Hell if I know. |
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
What the...? Wednesday
Welcome to the first "What the...? Wednesday". Living in a foreign country often makes me go, "what the...?" Walking down the street, riding a bus, teaching adults and children, grocery shopping, literally everywhere I go and do there is a "what the..." moment; so I had the great idea to share them with you. Is this poking fun at Korea? Maybe sometimes, but sometimes, like today's entry, it will be a constant reminder to myself and the world that I am the stranger here. May you laugh well at my WT moments.
But most of the time it will be a way to display the strange and unexplained here in Korea.
This Wednesday's "What the..."
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| The Korean washing machine |
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| with all instructions in Korean, |
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| of course. |
Sunday, November 6, 2011
...and then it rained.
"Aimee, I don't have my umbrella. Did you bring yours?"
"Yeah, we're good."
Aimee and I were on the bus headed to Gwangju to check out a church that I had been to once before and large rain filled clouds were making their way over the mountains. What I had mistaken for fog was indeed thunderheads about to drench the town. We left Naju and the rain (or so I thought) behind. A quick hop onto the subway and I knew we were headed in the right direction towards the church, but as we climbed the steps to head back to the street I saw what I had dreaded...rain.
My first thought went to my feet. I didn't have rain boots. I had suede boots on my feet, and while I looked cute, I was not weather proof. At all. But I felt better knowing that my friend, Aimee, had brought an umbrella. Mine was in my classroom from when I had used it earlier that week. Of course. So Aimee brings out the umbrella, opens it, and we both laugh. Aimee owns the world's smallest umbrella. I grabbed my Whole Foods reusable bag (we were planning an E-Mart run) and covered my head. It was raining lightly at first, but as we walked farther and farther away from the subway the, rain picked up and then we realized we didn't really know where we were headed. We were going in the right direction and I had a vague idea of which stop we needed to get off the bus, but where do we get on the bus and even better...which bus do we get on? Now it wasn't just raining, it was pouring. Roads had turned into rivers so that when the cars and buses passed by they sent up five foot walls of water. I do love to exaggerate, but this is not one of those times. FIVE FOOT WALLS OF WATER. So there we were, one waygook with an umbrella looking to the other waygook, who was soaking wet and holding a bag over her head, to show her which way to go.
This was one of those times that can break a traveller. You're in a strange city, can't read the bus signs, can't ask anyone for help, you can't feel your feet because they are so wet and cold, and all you want to do is give up, sit down, and cry. It happened the second week I was in Korea. I had traveled to Gwangju to try and find the International Center and I walked for hours, created multiple blisters on my feet, and couldn't find a damn thing. I got back on the subway and shed a tear of frustration. But I returned the next day, extremely determined to not only find it, but maybe find a friend. I found both.
Now back to today, the rain, the lost waygooks. Aimee and I looked at each other and up and down the street. At last! A bus stop. We couldn't care less where the bus went as long as there was an overhang that we could stand under. I ran because the bag wasn't doing too much for me at this point. The rain was running down my face, my shoes were now large water filled wrappings around my feet and I almost took out a nun in my sprint to the bus stop.
It is uncommon for bus stops to be void of people, but this one was and Aimee and I collapsed on the bench and began laughing. Delirious? Maybe, but most likely not. We were having the time of our lives. We were lost, wet, looked terrible (sorry, it's true Aimee), and doubled over in laughter. We said a quick prayer that God would send the right bus, because we had now figured out which one we needed, and that the rain would stop. He sent the bus, but he took his time with the rain. We walked another 1/4 mile to the church in the rain after the right bus came by and in this last stretch we had to cross a massive puddle by clinging to the sides of a wheelchair ramp that ran along side the sidewalk, jumped out of the way of the aforementioned wall of water created by passing cars, and saw a car almost half submerged in the mud and rain in the dirt parking lot at the church. We refrained from taking pictures of that because it was just too sad.
We arrived at the church, muddy, soggy, and overjoyed. It could have been the other way. We could have succumbed to the conditions. But we didn't. Sometimes it rains and you have no umbrella. You are completely unprepared for the situation. For an expat these times are frequent and there are only two ways to deal with it: give up or realize you signed up for a year of adventure, no matter the form they arrive in, and forge ahead. Today, two expats had an experience that showed the better way to deal with unforeseen circumstances: laugh, be thankful, enjoy the company you're in, and roll with it. Other times you might have a good cry, pull yourself up by your bootstraps, and struggle to carry on. It happens. It's inevitable. But not today. Today it rained...and it was a good day.
P.S. The church had a Thanksgiving service where the English service and Korean service were combined (yay for translations through headphones) and at the end of the service everyone got a free bag of rice. Aimee and I learned that perseverance in the face of adversity pays off.
"Yeah, we're good."
Aimee and I were on the bus headed to Gwangju to check out a church that I had been to once before and large rain filled clouds were making their way over the mountains. What I had mistaken for fog was indeed thunderheads about to drench the town. We left Naju and the rain (or so I thought) behind. A quick hop onto the subway and I knew we were headed in the right direction towards the church, but as we climbed the steps to head back to the street I saw what I had dreaded...rain.
My first thought went to my feet. I didn't have rain boots. I had suede boots on my feet, and while I looked cute, I was not weather proof. At all. But I felt better knowing that my friend, Aimee, had brought an umbrella. Mine was in my classroom from when I had used it earlier that week. Of course. So Aimee brings out the umbrella, opens it, and we both laugh. Aimee owns the world's smallest umbrella. I grabbed my Whole Foods reusable bag (we were planning an E-Mart run) and covered my head. It was raining lightly at first, but as we walked farther and farther away from the subway the, rain picked up and then we realized we didn't really know where we were headed. We were going in the right direction and I had a vague idea of which stop we needed to get off the bus, but where do we get on the bus and even better...which bus do we get on? Now it wasn't just raining, it was pouring. Roads had turned into rivers so that when the cars and buses passed by they sent up five foot walls of water. I do love to exaggerate, but this is not one of those times. FIVE FOOT WALLS OF WATER. So there we were, one waygook with an umbrella looking to the other waygook, who was soaking wet and holding a bag over her head, to show her which way to go.
This was one of those times that can break a traveller. You're in a strange city, can't read the bus signs, can't ask anyone for help, you can't feel your feet because they are so wet and cold, and all you want to do is give up, sit down, and cry. It happened the second week I was in Korea. I had traveled to Gwangju to try and find the International Center and I walked for hours, created multiple blisters on my feet, and couldn't find a damn thing. I got back on the subway and shed a tear of frustration. But I returned the next day, extremely determined to not only find it, but maybe find a friend. I found both.
Now back to today, the rain, the lost waygooks. Aimee and I looked at each other and up and down the street. At last! A bus stop. We couldn't care less where the bus went as long as there was an overhang that we could stand under. I ran because the bag wasn't doing too much for me at this point. The rain was running down my face, my shoes were now large water filled wrappings around my feet and I almost took out a nun in my sprint to the bus stop.
It is uncommon for bus stops to be void of people, but this one was and Aimee and I collapsed on the bench and began laughing. Delirious? Maybe, but most likely not. We were having the time of our lives. We were lost, wet, looked terrible (sorry, it's true Aimee), and doubled over in laughter. We said a quick prayer that God would send the right bus, because we had now figured out which one we needed, and that the rain would stop. He sent the bus, but he took his time with the rain. We walked another 1/4 mile to the church in the rain after the right bus came by and in this last stretch we had to cross a massive puddle by clinging to the sides of a wheelchair ramp that ran along side the sidewalk, jumped out of the way of the aforementioned wall of water created by passing cars, and saw a car almost half submerged in the mud and rain in the dirt parking lot at the church. We refrained from taking pictures of that because it was just too sad.
We arrived at the church, muddy, soggy, and overjoyed. It could have been the other way. We could have succumbed to the conditions. But we didn't. Sometimes it rains and you have no umbrella. You are completely unprepared for the situation. For an expat these times are frequent and there are only two ways to deal with it: give up or realize you signed up for a year of adventure, no matter the form they arrive in, and forge ahead. Today, two expats had an experience that showed the better way to deal with unforeseen circumstances: laugh, be thankful, enjoy the company you're in, and roll with it. Other times you might have a good cry, pull yourself up by your bootstraps, and struggle to carry on. It happens. It's inevitable. But not today. Today it rained...and it was a good day.
P.S. The church had a Thanksgiving service where the English service and Korean service were combined (yay for translations through headphones) and at the end of the service everyone got a free bag of rice. Aimee and I learned that perseverance in the face of adversity pays off.
The boots at the end of the day. They were still a bit sloshy.
Free bag of rice!
Here's a video that Aimee and I made after church. I think I would count this as a vlog. Before I left that morning the hair was rocking. Not so much after the downpour.
and a poem because that's how I roll.
A Rainy Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
Monday, October 31, 2011
The Way of the Waygook
Before I plunge into this first attempt at a serious post, please be informed that for all expats living in larger cities, this might not apply to you. So if you are currently living, or are moving to, a massive city teeming with foreigners then this probably isn't the way it is for you.
The first month in Korea I was utterly alone. When I visited a church my third week here, I was so used to speaking English to my students that I forgot articles such as "the" and I talked with my hands way more than necessary. I became desperate to find some other foreigners to hang out and talk with. Then just as my first month anniversary with Korea was around the corner, I met foreigners. The sun shone a bit brighter and there was a spring in my step. Three waygook girls walked down the streets of Naju saying "this is the best day ever," and "I love Korea!"
See, when living in any foreign country, regardless of language barrier (although having one makes this even more so) having someone who understands your situation makes everything better. We might not have been friends on the other side of the world, but here we are brethren, kindred spirits tied together by many things. There is so much beauty in expat communities. It is beautiful, to show up at a bar or grocery store, see a foreigner, exchange numbers, and be at ease with a fellow English speaker. The expat community is small in my area and the Christian expat community is even smaller, so we search each other out; going to churches we don't know how to get to, ride buses unsure of their destination, all for the purpose of finding others like ourselves. We all came here with a similar purpose: to live a little freer, a little more scared perhaps, but we live a life that is different from everyone else we know, so when we see that little spark of recognition in a fellow traveler, we cling to it. Most of us can recognize the asshole who came to Korea to shirk responsiblity and drink/sex their way across the country so as to make a bad name for the rest of us. They're quite obvious let me assure you.
Finding a friend here is indeed finding someone very similar to yourself. We have sold our cars, houses, given away pets, said good-bye to every family member and friend to set out in search of adventure and what not. We can bemoan the fact that we miss our cats, are really craving a frosty from Wendy's, and when homesickness sets in we can have a cry together. (I am aware that this seems to be leaning more towards the female expat community and I apologize, but it's about to get worse.) This week, I was at a bar with some new made friends who are all female and single. For the first time in years, I was with women who made a toast to singleness and actually meant it. Now I'm sure as the months pass we will begin to curse the waygook men because they're all dating Korean women. And while we toss around certain derogatory names for men and wear scowling faces we will secretly forgive them because Korean women are so beautiful.
So here we are, expats coming together and greeting each other even though we are strangers. We live a life none of our friends back home can fully understand or grasp. We drink alone sometimes, and eat alone even more often. We leave behind our shy and introverted ways to seek out strangers who can become friends. There is something beautiful in this community of strangers that when I really look at, aren't strangers at all. This is simply the way of the waygook.
Monday, October 24, 2011
LG Family Day Festival
Korea is the land of festivals. They have a festival for everything, but I'm a big lover of festivals so I say right on. For example, in Gwangju they had the famous Kimchi festival two weeks ago, and this weekend is the Naju pear festival. We here in Naju love our pears...
I'm not really sure how normal companies work here in Korea, but at LG Chem in Naju, we have a Family Day Festival. To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure if it's some wanderlust still left in my eyes, or everything is still new and I'm on that "I live in KOREA" high, but the LGFD Festival made me fall in love with Korea oh so much more.
The day started out with it being extremely obvious that I was the only waygook there. Painfully obvious. More on this later. Tents were set up, endless dishes of strange food put out, soju and beer runnith over, and a painfully loud man with a microphone. Soccer games were played, races were run, and then came the group games. 250+ LG employees and family members were grouped into teams and the relay/unity races began. I was completely content with sitting under a tent nursing a beer, but no. Remember how I said Koreans are so kind? They want to make you feel welcome...accepted...and to embarrass the hell out of you. I joined the six legged relay race where we put a foot in some sort of rubber contraption and set about to run down the field and back. It was when we were doing our "Fighting"* cheer that the man with the mic found me. I saw it in his eyes, the recognition of a stranger. Oh for the love of god man just turn around and please oh please leave me... I was forced to tell him my name, thus "Jennipa" was famous for the rest of the day.
*Fighting is a chant or source of encouragement for Koreans. They raise a fist to the level of their eye and say, "fighting" with all their might. I joined along and soon was saying "fighting" right along with them the rest of the day. Reason #79 why I love Korea. FIGHTING!
After some relaying it was time to eat. About five different women came up asking me (gesturing with their hands) to join them when finally one of them just grabbed my hand, led me to her table, opened my chopsticks, and kept putting food in front of me. Again, I disobeyed my mother and ate stuff that I didn't recognize. (I would later find out that it was pig feet and squid with veggies). I did recognize chicken and stocked up on that. I have no idea how Koreans stay so thin because they could all out eat me. But the food they eat is super good for you supposedly. At least that's what every Korean has told me and they don't have obesity problems here like in America, so I'm going to listen to them.
I might have been a foreigner, but everyone welcomed me to their table, called my name from across the tent (thanks to the man with the mic). It was as if I really was a part of the "family" in LG Family Day. Love. This. Country.
Then each team in the company had to perform in front of the crowd. I am on the General Affairs team and was asked to join. Hells yeah! What do I have to do? I'm sorry, did you say dance to a song in front of the ENTIRE company? Hmm...how do you say "hell no, I respectfully decline" in Korean?
Reason #80 why I love Korea: dressing up and acting a fool is totally ok. Here are some pictures from other groups so you can get my full meaning.
After all the dancing and comedy acts, my team was announced winners and I'm not sure if it was because I was on the team or we were actually that good. We did rock though. Fo reals. White girl can dance.
Everyone went home slightly tipsy, with full bellies and parting gifts. Check out my winnings below.
I'm not really sure how normal companies work here in Korea, but at LG Chem in Naju, we have a Family Day Festival. To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure if it's some wanderlust still left in my eyes, or everything is still new and I'm on that "I live in KOREA" high, but the LGFD Festival made me fall in love with Korea oh so much more.
The day started out with it being extremely obvious that I was the only waygook there. Painfully obvious. More on this later. Tents were set up, endless dishes of strange food put out, soju and beer runnith over, and a painfully loud man with a microphone. Soccer games were played, races were run, and then came the group games. 250+ LG employees and family members were grouped into teams and the relay/unity races began. I was completely content with sitting under a tent nursing a beer, but no. Remember how I said Koreans are so kind? They want to make you feel welcome...accepted...and to embarrass the hell out of you. I joined the six legged relay race where we put a foot in some sort of rubber contraption and set about to run down the field and back. It was when we were doing our "Fighting"* cheer that the man with the mic found me. I saw it in his eyes, the recognition of a stranger. Oh for the love of god man just turn around and please oh please leave me... I was forced to tell him my name, thus "Jennipa" was famous for the rest of the day.
*Fighting is a chant or source of encouragement for Koreans. They raise a fist to the level of their eye and say, "fighting" with all their might. I joined along and soon was saying "fighting" right along with them the rest of the day. Reason #79 why I love Korea. FIGHTING!
After some relaying it was time to eat. About five different women came up asking me (gesturing with their hands) to join them when finally one of them just grabbed my hand, led me to her table, opened my chopsticks, and kept putting food in front of me. Again, I disobeyed my mother and ate stuff that I didn't recognize. (I would later find out that it was pig feet and squid with veggies). I did recognize chicken and stocked up on that. I have no idea how Koreans stay so thin because they could all out eat me. But the food they eat is super good for you supposedly. At least that's what every Korean has told me and they don't have obesity problems here like in America, so I'm going to listen to them.
I might have been a foreigner, but everyone welcomed me to their table, called my name from across the tent (thanks to the man with the mic). It was as if I really was a part of the "family" in LG Family Day. Love. This. Country.
Then each team in the company had to perform in front of the crowd. I am on the General Affairs team and was asked to join. Hells yeah! What do I have to do? I'm sorry, did you say dance to a song in front of the ENTIRE company? Hmm...how do you say "hell no, I respectfully decline" in Korean?
Reason #80 why I love Korea: dressing up and acting a fool is totally ok. Here are some pictures from other groups so you can get my full meaning.
A family act.
Group of guys whose main objective was to hide their crotch. I think.
Horse, chicken, and black man masks.
After all the dancing and comedy acts, my team was announced winners and I'm not sure if it was because I was on the team or we were actually that good. We did rock though. Fo reals. White girl can dance.
Everyone went home slightly tipsy, with full bellies and parting gifts. Check out my winnings below.
Travel sized toiletries, ramen, soap, and toothpaste.
LG made toothpaste that is.
Also, if you followed the link from my Facebook that said something about pictures of me, then do you really know me at all? If you thought I would put up pictures of me dancing in an outfit to a choreographed dance then you are sadly mistaken. Thanks for looking! But I feel kind of bad so here is the dance we did. It's a KPop song by Orange Caramel and the dance you see...I know every step because I rocked it.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Apartment
Finally, now that I have internet access in the apartment and have acquired necessary appliances, such as a fridge and microwave, you can view pictures of my apartment. Now, for those of you looking to move to Korea, my apartment is not common. I have a two bedroom while most people in larger cities have studios. So don't get your hopes up. If you'd like to see what a more modern, more common city apartment just look here.
Bedroom
Bathroom
Notice how there is no shower curtain. There is a drain that lines the outside of the tub that helps maintain flooding on the floor. It doesn't, however, help with the flooding on every other surface. Also, it is rare to have a tub in Korea. Most places just have the adjustable shower head.
Living room
The little closet like room all the way in the back to the right is my "laundry room".
Kitchen
I waited two weeks for that fridge and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. See how there is no stove? No baking. This could be good for my health. No brownies for a year. Must. Stay. Positive.
The second bedroom. There's nothing there, but here's the door to show it exists.
Entryway
The black and gray striped thing on the side is a screen that you can pull to the side in the summer to let cool air in and keep bugs out.
Peephole
Inconveniently placed
Welcome to Korea.
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