What the Wednesday: DMZ edition

While the sister was in town we took a day trip to the DMZ. It was a pretty incredible experience and while I'm excited I did it, I wouldn't really say it was worth all the hype. Kind of like that year I went to Times Square for New Years...a bit overrated. Call me what you will, but don't go expecting amazingness.


That is UNTIL YOU GET TO THE JOINT SECURITY AREA.
That is where the awesomeness comes into play. Bypass the tunnel that goes into the ground (boring, backbreaking, claustrophobia-inducing, and exhausting); it's not worth it. The other stuff paled to the JSA. Words don't break the surface of how you feel in that place.
So here's a bunch of photos instead.

view NK from here

No Photo line

totally lame train station they've built that reaches Pyongyang for some ridiculous useless purpose

JSA

view of Propaganda village

Bridge of No Return

Of course the completely awkward, but necessary, picture with the soldier.

Small explanation about Propaganda Village and Bridge of No Return. Propaganda Village is a small and pretty much deserted village that used to have speakers that blasted North Korea Propaganda across to the South. Nobody lives there and it's purely for show. Awesome convincing skills there...

The Bridge of No Return was used at the cease fire of the Korean War when soldiers were given the choice to return to the south or stay in the north. Once they crossed the bridge they could never return.

We went with the USO on a day tour and I would highly suggest going with this company. Here's the website to make your reservation. The directions they give you are ridiculous. But once you leave Samgakji station, take exit 10 like it says and then walk...for a bit longer than the map tells you. It was a source of panic on the morning of our tour. 

Happy Reunification WTW!

Spitting and Culture

Koreans spit...a lot. Everywhere. In Public. When I first moved here I thought it was an old country man thing. A custom that used to be ok because he had grown up tending the back forty and his crude manners were accepted because of his crude lifestyle (let's face it, Korea 50 years ago was a country trying to rebuild from a war. It won't pretty.). But, no, it wasn't just these old timers or the country folk; it was everyone. Including, but not limited to, beautiful women dressed for corporate meetings, kpop look a-likes with chiseled jaws, mothers holding babies. They live in the city, in the burbs, on the farm. It's impossible to walk two feet and not see a nicotine phlegm littered sidewalk. It drives me INSANE.

Ok, ok. So I've hit that six month mark which means the shine is gone; worn away by time and frustration. Most people ask if I'm homesick and I can't say that I am. I absolutely miss my family and time with my friends, but my bags aren't packed and waiting at the door. I'm experiencing culture rejection/whatthehellkindofplaceisthis/shock.

I'm tired. I'm tired of being stared at. Not glanced at. Stared at. It's not ok for your kids to yell out "waygookin" every time they see one of us. Can you imagine if I went around America pointing at everyone that didn't look like me and saying, "foreigner"? I'm tired of crunchy clothes because there is no dryer. I'm tired of Korean mothers thinking they know how to teach better than I do. I'm tired of the lack of smiles and manners. How hard is it for you to cover your mouth when you cough I ask!? I'm tired of almost getting run over every time I cross the street or walk on the sidewalk. I'm tired of the cleaning ladies talking about me and pointing at my shoes/clothes/hair and laughing. I can't speak your language. That doesn't mean I'm stupid. I'm tired of the spitting. I'm tired of winter. I'm tired of nobody informing me of the upcoming holiday that isn't on calendars, or new kids in the classroom, or when a class is cancelled. I'm just tired.

I took a friend to the hospital yesterday who was so incredibly weak that she could hardly breathe. She hadn't eaten or slept in two days. We took a taxi to the hospital and after our friend arrived to help translate, the doctor said, "common cold". Common cold my ass I told him. I protested and was on the verge of throwing a small fit and becoming extremely Southern, when he decided "maybe he should run some more tests". Yeah, yeah I think you better buddy. She was diagnosed and then ordered to stay in the hospital for 3-5 days. She had laryngitis and something else that didn't translate, but she was dehydrated and exhausted. After the doctor was finished pulling out the microscopic camera from her throat, my friend looked at me, started to cry, and said  , "I just want my mum." I held her and she cried for a bit more while I thought about how sometimes, the differences are too much. We chose this life, to live here, but it's too much. We can't handle a language barrier and a culture so starkly different from our own.

I'm glad that I get to experience this. Of course I don't have that thought as a taxi zooms past me almost taking me out, but each time something like this happens it teaches me a lesson. I am humbled by my lack of knowledge. I cannot be prideful living abroad. To say, "That's not how you do it" or "In America this would never happen" doesn't work. I'm not in America. I'm in Korea. Everyday. I'm in Korea. People spit on the streets here. They aren't always patient when dealing with outsiders. Sometimes that "waygookin shine" doesn't impress others and they treat us wrongfully. I have learned patience and compassion here, unlike any other place. Whenever I return to my home, I'll be more patient with rude drivers (sorry hoss, you ain't nothing like these guys). I'll be more accepting of those who do things differently, speak a different language, are foreign and new to my home. After all, I know what it's like. I'm the immigrant here.

So while Korea let me down these past few weeks, and I'm sure we'll be on better terms later, we're just going to have to learn to overlook our differences for now. She is molding me into a stronger, better person, albeit painfully. Some days I'll keep my shoes on when I walk in my house and stomp around; my own subtle way of showing Korea how pissed I am at her. I'll glare back at the man blatantly staring at me, I'll wave to the hordes of high school boys who yell, "Hello! Nice to meet you!", and I'll turn my iPod up louder as the woman next to me on the bus yells into her phone. We can get through this Korea. It's all about accepting and adjusting. Give and take. To spit or not spit.

And while I will never join in on the whole spitting thing, I'll learn to step over it and accept that this too is a part of Korea, a place I love.

War Memorial Seoul Korea

I decided to take my vacation in Seoul instead of some other country this time around for a couple of reasons. I have been in Korea for almost six months and haven't seen a lot of the country, and reason two is that it needed to be a somewhat budget trip as I had paid for my sister's ticket over here as a graduation gift. But Seoul didn't disappoint. As you'll see in the next few posts, we had a grand time. But I'm starting with the War Memorial mostly because it was one of my favorite spots we visited and my Dad will go nuts over the pictures and hopefully share with his veteran friends. Here you go VA peeps!

My sister and I went to the DMZ (another post) and got back into Seoul around 7pm. I had seen the memorial from a distance and knew it was in the area so instead of getting on the subway to go back home we decided to check out the memorial under the light of the full moon. We were not disappointed. You can blame it on our upbringing as veteran's children or the lull of the moon or what have you, but our small glimpse that night made us decide to skip a palace that we planned on seeing the next day and visit the memorial and attached museum instead. As my sister and I walked around this massive memorial we kept saying, "Dad would love this! I wish he was here!"

Also, while I was there, I was struck with several thoughts. The most prominent thought was that I was ashamed that I didn't know more about the Korean War. In the States, we refer to the Korean War as the Forgotten War and those that served are also forgotten. I don't really remember studying about it in school and all that I knew was NK was cra-cra. It is ironic because the NK's hold onto this war so tightly, blaming anyone but themselves for it's cause, and they raise their children with the "history" of how the south are traitors and Americans are imperialists because we tried to invade them once. Of course this means will do it again...? Ask an American child or even teenager and they probably have no idea about the Korean War. The importance placed on this event in these countries is drastically different. 

WARNING!!! PICTURE OVERLOAD AHEAD!

If you have the opportunity, go. Seriously. It's massive. It's free. It's a really cool way to spend a couple of hours diving into Korea's history and story of it's people. 

Directions: Take subway line 4 or 6. Samgakji Station Exit 12. Walk straight out of the exit for literally 30 seconds and it's on your right. When you enter the museum it looks as if you have to pay. You don't. Just walk in and tour. Also, bypass the gift shop. It sucks.

To all the veterans of the Korean War in the States, you are not forgotten here. 

Jennifer: The Published One

I'm back from vacation. My sister has left the country and you can look forward to several posts about our adventures in the coming weeks. If you're looking to travel to Korea and want to see some touristy spots, I got it all for you, my opinions tacked on of course.

But since I am just back from vacation, have new classes and new students, and my life is struggling to return to normal with more responsibilities added on, blogging today will be simple. I present to you my first published piece. I emailed the publication people at Gwangju News, a small, all volunteer, monthly publication about two months ago asking if I could contribute. After I submitted my ideas, I was given the green light to write a small piece about living in rural Korea, since it was relatively unexplored area. I submitted my article and then...nothing. I had no idea if it was accepted, rejected, thrown onto the "save for a bad month" pile. Nada. It wasn't until the last day of February, when I went into Gwangju, rushed to a restaurant that I knew had copies available, that I found it.
And now I share with all you good people.
Article


Update: The editor asked me if I'd like to write to order. Well, hello there career in writing. I thought I'd lost you.