Wednesday, April 24, 2013

What the Wednesday: Mid-Terms, The Other Side is Greener

Mid-terms. Fear driven by panic. Students run by clutching coffee and books with papers sticking out haphazardly. Pens stuck behind ears, hair that's clearly unwashed and in terrible disarray. Some hole themselves in their rooms with study guides, books spread out, empty bottles of energy drinks tossed about. Some board themselves up in the libraries with the same scene, but joining other desperate souls in neighboring cubicles. Some scream and cry, tear at their hair, and sob uncontrollably at the fate that awaits them. While others roam the campus with blank, wide-eyed stares, muttering to themselves in an incomprehensible language. Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, the students wade through the pit of despair that accompanies exam week. If one falls behind, no one will stop to help. Every student for himself. It's not pretty.

That's how I remember mid-term week. That's what my students look like now. I watch their faces crumble and grow pale(er) as I hand them the six page, 75 multiple choice, fill in the blank, short answer, and essay question mid-term. My ears perk at the cries, gasps, and swear words (today it was shit. The kids can't say "strange" correctly, but the swear words they've got down to an art.). A slow grin spreads across my face as they file out after they've finished, faces aghast at the horror of my mid-term. They go to join the others, muttering, wailing, and gnashing of teeth.

I prop my feet on my desk, and with a latte in one hand and a red pen in the other, I start to decide their fate...I mean grade their tests. The grass really is greener on the other side.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Dit's nie altyd maklik nie.

Yesterday, an Afrikaner asked me how my Afrikaans study was going. My reply was, "Dit's nie alkyd maklik nie." It's not always easy. She loved it. Was pure putty in my hands. I adored her praise. She had expected only a simple answer in English. I gave her a full sentence. But the more I thought about that statement, "it's not always easy" the more it rang true to a few things here.

I didn't feel like I was gone for that long when I left Korea a while back. Four months, just four measly months. But everything is different, and folks, it's not easy. I figured that I had done well last year. Not just survived, but thrived. I left Korea on my little kimchi cloud, and flew back on my confident, "can-do", sassy American flag, proudly waving from sea to nuclear threatened sea. I landed softly enough. Was greeted at the airport by two dear friends instead of a stranger. Stayed with a friend instead of a barren room with no sheets. This year would be it. I would be a wise sage to all the expats; show them the makgolli flavored ropes. Ahh, maar, dit's nie maklik nie. Sug. Dat was dom. Humility check. Got it.

My best friend left two weeks into my second year here. The girl who'd been with me since the beginning and done almost everything with, was gone, and I was left to recreate that part of my identity. Then my other friend moved to a different city, then another, then another, until I found myself surrounded by new people. Starting over. Again. Then we play this game of asking the introduction questions, "Where are you from? Where do you live here? What did you do back home? Where did you go to school? What was your major? It becomes mundane and tripe. And that's unfair thinking because you really are...I mean they really are interesting people, and here more so than many places, we have to fight for good community. No compromising when choosing your friends because choices are limited. But then when you do find those solid people you continue the game of figuring each other out. Was that sarcasm? Is she a whiner? Was he being funny or serious? They don't like Lord of the Rings?! That's a deal breaker. For the love of all that's good and holy, was that sarcasm?! It takes a while. It's a process. It's risky and hurtful, putting yourself out there, letting people in over and over again.

Then just when you think the game is making you a little weary, a little glum, you win. You get back into the motions of the game. The game hasn't changed. I have. No new rules. But it is definitely time to change them up. Ask different questions. Yes, it was sarcasm. It's always sarcasm. No, she doesn't like LOTR. Hope they figure you out quickly because you're not slowing down. It's not easy, but you play anyway, because it gets easier. Also, if you don't start to meet knew people, then man, is your life going to suck. Be brave you pansy!


But you know what will be easier this year? Understanding what's being said around me at this year's Hunter's Braai Camp. Ek verstaan jou. Nie meer skinner.


*Note- I just had a wonderful and encouraging friend correct my Afrikaans. Dit is instead of dit's. But I'm leaving my mistake. Humility. Perseverance. Further up and further in, vriende.


Monday, April 8, 2013

Nuwe 언어. New Languages.

It's no lie. I hated Spanish in high school and even more so in university. I was an English major. Why in the name of all that's good and holy did I need to be proficient and take up to 204 in a foreign language when I knew I would have no use for the damn thing? Sigh. ¿Cómo se dice ridiculous?

Turns out I was right about the Spanish. It hasn't helped at all here in Korea. I'll use my kitchen Spanish to understand my Latino friends here. It's also handy when we get into a taxi and the driver understands enough English that I have to say, "vamos a morir" (we're going to die) because I fear for my life. But still, Spanish and I just never...clicked. Lo siento Senora Wise. I'm sure I'll be fine with my primary language. Surely it's all I'll ever need. The whole world speaks English.

Ha. Haha. Hahahahahahahahahaha

So I started learning Korean. Then it was hard and I stopped. 하지마(don't do it) It didn't help that Koreans weren't exactly supportive in my language discovery. I am corrected all the time and if I mispronounced even a teeny tiny bit then they had no idea what I said. Also, I have a foreigner face. They look at me and inwardly start to panic when they realize they'll have to speak to me. They panic so much they miss the first few words I say to them. In their own language. Enter extreme confusion. Point is, I was a coward. Or lazy. Fine, I was both. Anyway, I stopped. I quit. I learned enough to get around. I could read and write and tell a taxi driver to 가자 (let's go!) and ask where the 화장실 (bathroom) is. But I've been convicted recently by the professor that I tutor. Sorry let me specify: the Chinese Language professor who's learning English as a third language. Convicted. Shame. Whatever.

So I started up again. Happy?

But I started learning another language in earnest last year. Afrikaans has got to be one of the easiest languages I've attempted to learn. *Side note, I've also attempted Cherokee and Irish Gaelic.* However, the uitspraak (pronunciation) is a bitch. There's no nice way to say it. 

Most people's reaction when they find out I'm learning Afrikaans is a one big "what the...?" moment followed by even more confusion. How in the name of Edward Cullen is that going to help you in Korea? African? Is that the one with clicks? 

Sigh. 

The quick answer is that I have a few Afrikaans friends and I wanted to understand what they were saying, I was looking at a South African uni for grad school, and my friends spoke this language. It was their heart. It is the language they dream in and talk to God with. I'm a firm believer in being a good friend and while that doesn't mean I need to learn every language my friends speak, I wanted to be close to my friends and show interest in their culture, respect their backgrounds and differences. Now, they get good laughs from me ALL the time, and are bombarded with questions at all hours of the day which I'm sure makes them roll their eyes, but bless them, they are patient. Dankie.

At least those were the reasons the language learning started. Now, I see it as this personal journey. One of determination and perseverance. Can I stick it out this time? Will I quit? It's hard being laughed at when you're making such an effort. I want to punch the Korean barista in the face when they giggle at my piss poor attempt to ask for low fat milk. I never ever of evers laugh at my students attempts with my language. They would all walk out of class, and be terrified of English forever. Language learning is hard. I cannot identify with Korean or Afrikaans. It isn't my culture. It makes no sense to me. But I feel good when I sit down to study. I feel excited knowing I'm closing the cultural gap. Afrikaans is 'n mooi taal, maar it's still difficult.  When I study and master a sentence or a grammar rule I feel the world become more accessible to me, a little easier to navigate. So I persevere and verstaan a little bit more each day. I open myself up to change each time I learn a new 표현, and the world becomes less scary with fewer boundaries. 

This guy is my inspiration. A white guy who's learning Xhosa (one with some clicks) and he's pretty good. Like it says at the end of the video, "Speak to a man in his own language, and you speak to his heart." Nelson Mandela
Good one Madiba. 

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

What the Wednesday: Kids Say the Darndest Things

What the Wednesday is back. Finally. That time honored tradition where I give you a glimpse of Korea and it's quirks...er cultural differences that make you go, "what the...?"


Students. I missed them. I actually did. My freshmen uni students and the high schoolers I taught really aren't that different. There are some that I want to just put in my pocket and carry with me they are so wonderful. Then there are some that I want to put in my pocket, sew it shut, and throw into a lake. Today's story involves those students.

Koreans freely express what they think of your appearance and body. Your hair. Your eyes. Hands. Ears. Shape, size, color. Everything. On several occasions I've had older Korean men say something about my height or "big-size". When my friends and I are shopping, the shop staff might comment about how handsome or beautiful we are. It doesn't sound complimentary though. It sounds kinda creepy. We show up. They act surprised. Then with wide eyes and two thumbs up they proclaim that he is "handsome guy" or she is "oh so beautiful".

 I just walked into your store. You're freaking me out.

And then there was today. Today was the real WTW moment. I was teaching my class the phrases, "I must, I have to, I must not", and with that they had to write rules for me. I had given them rules in the beginning of the semester, "you must not sleep in class. you have to buy the book." Now they had to write rules for me. Previous classes had written the predictable rules of, "Jennifer must bring me food. Jennifer must not give homework. Jennifer must give A."
The first student today said, "Jennifer must diet."
You little jerk. I threw my pen at him.
I have a good rapport with this class. We have a great time and they're dedicated to learning. A dream. And then that.
After I threw my pen the class laughed. I laughed. All good fun. But then a few kids later said, "Jennifer must exercise."
I picked up my water bottle and chucked that, and told them they were getting F's. The other kids clapped and cheered.
One more kid said I must not have body piercings. Apparently they don't like my nose ring. And then yet another said something about my hair.

All little bastards.

The next to last student said, "Jennifer must put down the bottle."
I was still carrying around the water bottle ready to launch as a torpedo.

I'm trying to imagine what would have happened if I had told a professor that they needed to diet. Now the kids weren't trying to be mean. That's just the culture.

But I can give them a lesson in culture. Next week: Foreigners never want to hear anything about our physical appearance. Keep it to yourself. Even if it's good. Don't be a creeper or a rude POS and keep everything inside. You weirdo who wears frames with no lenses and high water checked pants because that's in style. Keep it to yourself or I'm coming for you.


Weirdo.