I have decided that there are two types of foreigners in Korea. The first is the type that wants to travel, teach, or have adventure, and the second is the type that couldn't make it in their own culture, and were forced to move abroad.
Why is it that I always run into the second type? WHY? I have never met such ignorance and stupidity before I moved abroad, and I taught high schoolers, who thought they were the shit and some who were about as dumb as you could get. Bless their hearts though. They have the excuse that their frontal lobes hadn't fully developed yet. These crackpots here have no excuse whatsoever.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
What the Wednesday: Airport Security
I'm from the States so when I get ready to fly I have to prepare myself physically, mentally, and go in confident of body because I could get a pat down. Belts, loose change, shoes, cardigans, jackets, hats-they all come off and away from body.
Not when you live in Korea though.
Best. Airport. Experience. Ever. I flew domestically from Gwangju to Seoul this past weekend, and went through the routine: 3 oz liquids in clear bag at the top of my bag so I easily show the security, wore flip flops to make shoe removal easier, no belt. It was all so very unnecessary. I kept my shoes on, didn't have to take any liquids out of my bag, walked through a metal detector and didn't have a full body scan. Oh no. I walked through. Easy peasy. Then when people would walk through and the detector would go off the would just get a little wave of the metal wand and they were deemed safe. I sat in the airport in complete amazement, thinking, "what the...?!" My New Zealander friend couldn't get over my shock. She had stocked full bottles of shampoo in her bag which I thought was just not done.
Needless to say on the return flight all of the liquidy stuff I bought over the weekend (vanilla extract, expensive shampoo, chocolate frosting) went deep in my bag because I knew I wouldn't have to retrieve it later. In fact, I bought the shampoo just because I knew I could take it on my carry-on luggage. I loved it. Another reason my small sabbatical in America is going to be difficult in adjustment.
Not when you live in Korea though.
Best. Airport. Experience. Ever. I flew domestically from Gwangju to Seoul this past weekend, and went through the routine: 3 oz liquids in clear bag at the top of my bag so I easily show the security, wore flip flops to make shoe removal easier, no belt. It was all so very unnecessary. I kept my shoes on, didn't have to take any liquids out of my bag, walked through a metal detector and didn't have a full body scan. Oh no. I walked through. Easy peasy. Then when people would walk through and the detector would go off the would just get a little wave of the metal wand and they were deemed safe. I sat in the airport in complete amazement, thinking, "what the...?!" My New Zealander friend couldn't get over my shock. She had stocked full bottles of shampoo in her bag which I thought was just not done.
Needless to say on the return flight all of the liquidy stuff I bought over the weekend (vanilla extract, expensive shampoo, chocolate frosting) went deep in my bag because I knew I wouldn't have to retrieve it later. In fact, I bought the shampoo just because I knew I could take it on my carry-on luggage. I loved it. Another reason my small sabbatical in America is going to be difficult in adjustment.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Ewww...
Living away from family, friends, and everything that is comfortable really forces a person to examine themselves. When faced with a frustrating situation, how do you handle it? When you're handed a microphone and told to sing or dragged into the middle of a crowd and told to dance, do you shove aside your introverted self and throw down like a k-popper? When men everywhere stare at you and make grunting noises do you flip em' off or walk away as fast as possible?
I've heard it before and I have to agree with the millions of expats who have gone before me: we are not the same when we return home. As humans, we're always changing and evolving. Usually, it comes from growing older and experiencing life as we go along. I feel like for me, and others in a similar state as mine, that it happens much faster for us, as if life happens at a more rapid pace when you live some sort of vagabond life. Stuff that I didn't expect to happen to me happens. I'm thrown into situations all the damn time where I really have to question how it should be handled, and I can't rely on the comfortableness of a shared culture. Even my English speaking friends and I come from different places and the way I respond is strange to them and might (most likely) leave a bad taste in their mouths, where as back home my friends and I would have laughed it off and forgotten about it. It's freaking stressful is what it is.
My relationship with the Lord has been stretched and examined in ways I was hoping for. Before I came I prayed that I would be put through the ringer here. I was in such a stagnant place. Same old same old. I craved a change and a push to experience God in new ways. He's forced me to examine myself over and over. He's pushed/violently shoved me into places where my reaction has made me go, "ewwww". I'm lazy when there's so much to do, important work like stuff, not stuff like washing the sheets. Those can wait till tomorrow. I half do something at work when I'm not used to giving anything less than %100. I react with anger and let my impatient wrath spew all over the helpless villagers.
There are also good changes. I have such a better grasp on my health and a desire to live healthy. I am much more aware of who I am (thanks to all of these strange situations I'm faced with) and happy with the my findings. I'm making plans for the future instead of brushing thoughts away. Although, this weekend when a friend asked what my dream was all I could reply with was to be happy. I don't have much figured out beyond that. I figure I have the basics down though. I find myself running to the Lord instead of a friend when things get really hard. When I need to have a good cry, I find myself crying to him. It's absolutely wonderful. Not beautiful though. I'm so not a pretty cryer.
There are other changes that I'm not sure if they're good or bad. A situation arose recently in which someone shared an opinion on a controversial subject and my thoughts differed so incredibly much that I was concerned that if I shared my opinion I could irreversibly harm the friendship. It was a topic that I felt was important, but I didn't know if it was more important than the friendship. Old Jennifer would have let the person have it. Opinion given, whether you asked for it or not. An opinion so scathing that it wouldn't just singe your eyebrows. Oh no, it would have melted your damn eyeballs out of their sockets. New Jennifer held back and quickly processed what was more important. The friendship. I'm sure the topic will come up again and I won't be able to withhold how I feel about it, but I hope to do so without any melting taking place.
I only have three months left in Korea before I head home and give my family and friends New Jennifer, wrapped up a bit better than when she left, I believe. I was a freaking mess when I left. My fear is if we all will be able to deal with it, or will we all go-ewwwwww. My accent is weird. I was mistaken for a New Zealander this weekend, and sometimes my "a's" sound all British. I can't really stomach western food anymore. The bathroom at What The Book bookstore knows this all too well, as I puked up an entire western style breakfast yesterday. What's going to happen when I really want Chik fil a?! When handed a microphone I'll probably still refuse, but will break it down in front of crowd if asked. I'll refrain from flipping off the men who stare with a sickening lustful look in their eyes and walk quickly by. If we were in the States, though dude, consider yourself lucky if I don't dent your unborn children.
Ewww indeed.
I've heard it before and I have to agree with the millions of expats who have gone before me: we are not the same when we return home. As humans, we're always changing and evolving. Usually, it comes from growing older and experiencing life as we go along. I feel like for me, and others in a similar state as mine, that it happens much faster for us, as if life happens at a more rapid pace when you live some sort of vagabond life. Stuff that I didn't expect to happen to me happens. I'm thrown into situations all the damn time where I really have to question how it should be handled, and I can't rely on the comfortableness of a shared culture. Even my English speaking friends and I come from different places and the way I respond is strange to them and might (most likely) leave a bad taste in their mouths, where as back home my friends and I would have laughed it off and forgotten about it. It's freaking stressful is what it is.
My relationship with the Lord has been stretched and examined in ways I was hoping for. Before I came I prayed that I would be put through the ringer here. I was in such a stagnant place. Same old same old. I craved a change and a push to experience God in new ways. He's forced me to examine myself over and over. He's pushed/violently shoved me into places where my reaction has made me go, "ewwww". I'm lazy when there's so much to do, important work like stuff, not stuff like washing the sheets. Those can wait till tomorrow. I half do something at work when I'm not used to giving anything less than %100. I react with anger and let my impatient wrath spew all over the helpless villagers.
There are also good changes. I have such a better grasp on my health and a desire to live healthy. I am much more aware of who I am (thanks to all of these strange situations I'm faced with) and happy with the my findings. I'm making plans for the future instead of brushing thoughts away. Although, this weekend when a friend asked what my dream was all I could reply with was to be happy. I don't have much figured out beyond that. I figure I have the basics down though. I find myself running to the Lord instead of a friend when things get really hard. When I need to have a good cry, I find myself crying to him. It's absolutely wonderful. Not beautiful though. I'm so not a pretty cryer.
There are other changes that I'm not sure if they're good or bad. A situation arose recently in which someone shared an opinion on a controversial subject and my thoughts differed so incredibly much that I was concerned that if I shared my opinion I could irreversibly harm the friendship. It was a topic that I felt was important, but I didn't know if it was more important than the friendship. Old Jennifer would have let the person have it. Opinion given, whether you asked for it or not. An opinion so scathing that it wouldn't just singe your eyebrows. Oh no, it would have melted your damn eyeballs out of their sockets. New Jennifer held back and quickly processed what was more important. The friendship. I'm sure the topic will come up again and I won't be able to withhold how I feel about it, but I hope to do so without any melting taking place.
I only have three months left in Korea before I head home and give my family and friends New Jennifer, wrapped up a bit better than when she left, I believe. I was a freaking mess when I left. My fear is if we all will be able to deal with it, or will we all go-ewwwwww. My accent is weird. I was mistaken for a New Zealander this weekend, and sometimes my "a's" sound all British. I can't really stomach western food anymore. The bathroom at What The Book bookstore knows this all too well, as I puked up an entire western style breakfast yesterday. What's going to happen when I really want Chik fil a?! When handed a microphone I'll probably still refuse, but will break it down in front of crowd if asked. I'll refrain from flipping off the men who stare with a sickening lustful look in their eyes and walk quickly by. If we were in the States, though dude, consider yourself lucky if I don't dent your unborn children.
Ewww indeed.
“The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.” ~ M. Scott Peck
Monday, June 18, 2012
Wanderlust
I absolutely love tonight. It's a Monday, so it automatically sucked when I woke up. Mondays, I hate them. So so so so bad. But this Monday night is good. I just found this website. You can choose where you're leaving from and then you type in "Everywhere" and it literally tells you flight plans and prices for anywhere in the world. I've already chosen about 17 different flight plans that look deliciously tempting. It makes me feel all Dr. Seuss with all the places I can go. I have feet in my shoes and brains in my head.
Oh good God...I'm going to need more money.
I have a seriously bad case of wanderlust. No cure in sight.
“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!
Oh good God...I'm going to need more money.
I have a seriously bad case of wanderlust. No cure in sight.
“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Multiculturalism in a Homogeneous Society
Since college, I've been a firm believer that multiculturalism is a benefit to any society. Add a little spice to your life, a little funk to your rhythm, some pepper to your salt, whatever. Stop being so vanilla. After my first international trip to South Africa, finding friends with different cultural backgrounds became a necessity to my life. I craved the differences, and hungered to learn about their lives, culture, languages. When I traveled to Ireland, it was the same. I got a high from learning the cultural do's and don'ts. It kept me on my toes, made me feel like a small piece to something bigger, and deepened my need for multiculturalism.
When I was in grad school I had to take an education class that focused on multiculturalism (that was ironically taught by a man whose only qualification was that he was half German half African. Other than that, he was a close minded schmuck.). Through that and other ed. classes I began to see how we as humans really truly benefit from being surrounded by people who are different from us, in and out of the classroom.
I would certainly say this is true for Korea as well. Korea, the hermit kingdom, a true homogeneous society, how you should thrive from differences. I've never really run in xenophobia before, but...damn...it can run strong in parts of this country. Like in my wee little town people are sometimes shocked by my presence, unsure of what to do. Options are run, hide, and seek police because surely she is a Russian spy, point, stop where you are, stand with mouth ajar, or pretend like you don't see me and then when I pass you by, turn around and gawk. Other places in Korea are not this bad. Seoul, for example, is a well seasoned veteran of a city and is no longer impressed by foreigners. It still happens. For example this past weekend in Busan an old man stopped directly in my path to laugh and gesture with his hands about my size, then tell me and the guy I was with that his girlfriend (me) was much bigger than he (the friend) was. I understand your Korean, and the fact that you are so not accustomed to seeing differences (and the fact that you should know that's not ok to say) both horrifies me and disgusts me. Please oh please add a little sweet potato pie to your kimchi. Say ya'll with 주세요.
Something that makes me exceedingly happy is having so many friends from all over the world; ones that I've met here and ones that I've met in my other travels. They add something to my life. I see bigger pictures, I have a vast knowledge of slang and mannerisms that I picked up from them all. I say "em" instead of "um", the words "keen, chuck, aigoo, chincha, mulla, how's it, posh, seedy, and lekker are now apart of the regular vocabulary. I love love it.
I hope to raise kids to see multiculturalism as a thing of beauty, and I cannot wait to share my sense of wonder about cultures to the students I'll teach, both here and in the States. I hope to teach them that we can learn from one another; learn that our way might not be the best way, learn to love others regardless of how funny their accents are, not to laugh when you realize that to pronounce their names you have to add clicking noises, learn that ultimately you see the Lord in each of their faces and languages. It's a beautiful thing to go outside of your comfort zone, put yourself out there, and dare to form true relationships with those who are so different from you.
"If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart." ~ Nelson Mandela.
When I was in grad school I had to take an education class that focused on multiculturalism (that was ironically taught by a man whose only qualification was that he was half German half African. Other than that, he was a close minded schmuck.). Through that and other ed. classes I began to see how we as humans really truly benefit from being surrounded by people who are different from us, in and out of the classroom.
I would certainly say this is true for Korea as well. Korea, the hermit kingdom, a true homogeneous society, how you should thrive from differences. I've never really run in xenophobia before, but...damn...it can run strong in parts of this country. Like in my wee little town people are sometimes shocked by my presence, unsure of what to do. Options are run, hide, and seek police because surely she is a Russian spy, point, stop where you are, stand with mouth ajar, or pretend like you don't see me and then when I pass you by, turn around and gawk. Other places in Korea are not this bad. Seoul, for example, is a well seasoned veteran of a city and is no longer impressed by foreigners. It still happens. For example this past weekend in Busan an old man stopped directly in my path to laugh and gesture with his hands about my size, then tell me and the guy I was with that his girlfriend (me) was much bigger than he (the friend) was. I understand your Korean, and the fact that you are so not accustomed to seeing differences (and the fact that you should know that's not ok to say) both horrifies me and disgusts me. Please oh please add a little sweet potato pie to your kimchi. Say ya'll with 주세요.
Something that makes me exceedingly happy is having so many friends from all over the world; ones that I've met here and ones that I've met in my other travels. They add something to my life. I see bigger pictures, I have a vast knowledge of slang and mannerisms that I picked up from them all. I say "em" instead of "um", the words "keen, chuck, aigoo, chincha, mulla, how's it, posh, seedy, and lekker are now apart of the regular vocabulary. I love love it.
I hope to raise kids to see multiculturalism as a thing of beauty, and I cannot wait to share my sense of wonder about cultures to the students I'll teach, both here and in the States. I hope to teach them that we can learn from one another; learn that our way might not be the best way, learn to love others regardless of how funny their accents are, not to laugh when you realize that to pronounce their names you have to add clicking noises, learn that ultimately you see the Lord in each of their faces and languages. It's a beautiful thing to go outside of your comfort zone, put yourself out there, and dare to form true relationships with those who are so different from you.
"If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart." ~ Nelson Mandela.
*Photos are totally not mine, but ganked from Facebook. Thanks Becks.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Grasping at Straws
A few quick thoughts to get the mind thinking about culture this morning and all of its intricacies
On Mondays I always ask my classes to explain what they did over the weekend. It gets conversations started and the English that slept in their brains on Saturday and Sunday a chance to wake up and back into practice. This morning one of my students said that she had been on a business trip Thursday and Friday, then on Saturday she worked until 3am because of a very important presentation, and then on Sunday she had to stop working because she was having trouble breathing. I asked her what the doctor said and when she typed it into her cell phone translator and handed it over to me it said "hyperventilation".
"You were hyperventilating? Wow, I'm sure that was scary."
"Yes. But I am better now."
"What caused you to hyperventilate?"
"The doctor say, I need to take a rest."
The poor girl was exhausted. She looked haggard and worn down, much too tired for a 26 year old. Then the thing I hate most aboutKorea
"Oh but, now you look so thin," one of my male students said.
Dude, shut the hell up. This is exactly why so much of the population are making themselves sick: to get thin. This girl now knows that if she can become overworked, she won't eat, and if she doesn't eat, she loses weight. If she loses weight, boys take notice. Women here, who weigh probably 90-100lbs are always talking about dieting. "Oh, I need to lose weight. I'm starting diet tomorrow." I've heard that a bajillion times since I've gotten here. I understand wanting to lose weight. I understand wanting to be healthy, and having a healthy lifestyle, but what I cannot grasp is how this country revolves around losing weight. By any means possible.
My heart breaks for these men and women who lay everything on the importance of appearance, when they will only lose it to time and age anyway.
I cannot grasp why losing weight and being as stickish as possible is more important than being healthy, happy, and satisfied with who you are and then in turn finding people who love you as you appear. I cannot grasp the culture of this and honestly, I hope I never do.
On Mondays I always ask my classes to explain what they did over the weekend. It gets conversations started and the English that slept in their brains on Saturday and Sunday a chance to wake up and back into practice. This morning one of my students said that she had been on a business trip Thursday and Friday, then on Saturday she worked until 3am because of a very important presentation, and then on Sunday she had to stop working because she was having trouble breathing. I asked her what the doctor said and when she typed it into her cell phone translator and handed it over to me it said "hyperventilation".
"You were hyperventilating? Wow, I'm sure that was scary."
"Yes. But I am better now."
"What caused you to hyperventilate?"
"The doctor say, I need to take a rest."
The poor girl was exhausted. She looked haggard and worn down, much too tired for a 26 year old. Then the thing I hate most about
"Oh but, now you look so thin," one of my male students said.
Dude, shut the hell up. This is exactly why so much of the population are making themselves sick: to get thin. This girl now knows that if she can become overworked, she won't eat, and if she doesn't eat, she loses weight. If she loses weight, boys take notice. Women here, who weigh probably 90-100lbs are always talking about dieting. "Oh, I need to lose weight. I'm starting diet tomorrow." I've heard that a bajillion times since I've gotten here. I understand wanting to lose weight. I understand wanting to be healthy, and having a healthy lifestyle, but what I cannot grasp is how this country revolves around losing weight. By any means possible.
My heart breaks for these men and women who lay everything on the importance of appearance, when they will only lose it to time and age anyway.
I cannot grasp why losing weight and being as stickish as possible is more important than being healthy, happy, and satisfied with who you are and then in turn finding people who love you as you appear. I cannot grasp the culture of this and honestly, I hope I never do.
Friday, June 1, 2012
I should be working
I have a ridiculous schedule, ridiculously easy that is. I have a 3.5 hour break between my morning classes and then an hour and 40 minute break between my afternoon classes. Sometimes I'm industrious and studious and amazing and study Korean, clean my house, plan lessons for two weeks, etc. Thennnnn there are other days where I just sit back and look at things like this. Seriously, this girl describes Korea better than I ever could.
Yesterday my two friends and I planned our Malaysia trip, wired money to banks, bought plane tickets, and chatted through facebook to do all of this. One works at a public high school, one at a kindergarten, and me at LG, a world renowned electronics company. Oh the shame of it all.
I should be working...but I'm not.
Yesterday my two friends and I planned our Malaysia trip, wired money to banks, bought plane tickets, and chatted through facebook to do all of this. One works at a public high school, one at a kindergarten, and me at LG, a world renowned electronics company. Oh the shame of it all.
I should be working...but I'm not.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)