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?

Just a normal bag the fantastically wonderful baker woman put my bread in.

But upon closer inspection...

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.

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.
View from my window. The mountain on the right foreground is the one from this tale.
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.

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.







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.


Wednesday, November 23, 2011

What the Wednesday

This weeks' "What the...? Wednesday: Skin Whitening Products.

Concentrated Skin Repairing System with Good Sleep Mechanism Technology WHITENING & Anti Wrinkle

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.


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.

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.
Sorry, you looked Korean.



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.
 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!

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..."

The Korean washing machine
 

with all instructions in Korean,

of course.


The first time I tried to wash clothes I encountered this. After I got over my initial, "WT?" I headed over to Google Translate. Thank you thank you thank you Google. So there you have it kids, your first "What the...? Wednesday.

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.

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.