First, a quick note that I will likely be offline for a few days, as I am on "vacation" until Thursday. Where am I going, you ask? I don't know but I have a bus ticket, and therin lies a story....
I decided I was going to the Express Bus Terminal in Seoul (via subway) to get a ticket for Monday to GYEONGJU. Now, please note that Romanized spelling of Korean names is up to the speller, based only on what day it is, how many shots of soju he has had, and the windspeed. Generically speaking, all the guidebooks use this spelling. Therin lies the difficulty, as no one bothered to show the Hang'ul (Korean) spelling of this name...
I got to the right subway stop, and was instantly thrust into a huge mob of people. I have no idea where they came from, but I had no choice but to go the same direction, or be run over. I came clear of the crowd, and found myself in one of the many impromptu markets that spring up in subway stations all over Seoul. I both love an hate these markets, as they always offer intersting and rather random merchandise, and I find myself wandering over "just to look" in spite of myself. You can buy things as diverse as socks, clothespins, and wallets all from the same merchant. I love the blouses that I see the women wearing, and many of them come from these street/subway merchants. Sadly, though, if you are not a size six or less with B-cups, you will not fit anything...That is the frustrating part. I absolutely adore the way Korean women dress, but, although I am the right height, my boobs and less-than-svelte figure make shopping a pain. I desperately need a few new shirts, as my washer is evil, but I will have to just patch, patch, patch, I guess...
Today, I found two shoe markets that were very tempting. Shoes in Korea are very cheap (about $7-$10 per pair) and very trendy. Like Asians the world over, Koreans are attracted to impractical high spike heels with no backs. There were also some nice wedges that I was tempted by, but they were too big. I may go back and get them, the design is something I can alter to make them fit better. From the selection of shoes offered, and my strange obssession with feet after hitting the shoe marts, I gather that Koreans have short but wide feet, just like me. At least there is one thing I can fit into and still be comfortable!
Well, to continue my story....
I got out of the mob, and saw a new mob coming, so I stood to the side and consulted my map. Most of the time, the signage in the subways is excellent, but apparently not here. In the corner, was a beggarwoman with what appeared to be an advanced case of leprosy. I reached into my pockets to see what I had to give her, maybe a few coins, but the crowd was bearing down on me. I suddenly made eye contact with a middle-aged woman coming down the crowded escalator, and asked her where the bus terminal was. She looked confused for a moment, then pointed up the stairs and to the right. I thanked her in Korean, but I must have still looked a bit confused, because she suddenly very firmly grabbed my hand and steered me back up the escalator. She said she would show me.
I thought she would abandon me at the top of the stairs but she didn't; she kept a firm grip on me and rushed me throguh the crowd. This lady couldn't have been taller that 4'11", but she was very strong and fast. I was knocking into people left and right, but she just kept pulling me along. She got me to the gate of the subway, and dragged me to the window. She said something to the guy; he let me through without a ticket, and she was off like a racehorse again. There was an underground mall (I later found out it was the largest underground mall in Asia!) coming up, and she dragged me right into another crowd. I couldn't see much, as I am short for a Caucasian but average for an Asian, all I could feel was her firm grip and the bodies of strangers being knocked back by my clumsy attempts to dodge children and pregnant women (I figured the rest could fend for themselves!). We went up an escalator, and there was the bus terminal. She brought me to the main window at first, but I indicated I needed to go to "information." She took me over there (even though it was clearly marked) and talked to the lady. She got me in the right line, and I got my ticket. I thanked her profusely, and she vanished back into the crowd.
The lady at the window spoke excellent English, or so it would seem. I showed her the name (in English ) of the town I wanted, and she handed me a ticket. She confirmed the gate number with me, but the name of the town on the ticket was GWANGJU. I noted this only after I had left the line. Now, one of the other possible destinations I was toying with was GWANJU, but decided against it because it will be too hot, and it is also a little remote. The name of the town I wanted was GYEONGJU. It looks like I will be going to a town that starts with a "g," but I have no idea which one. One is two hours away, and another is four; they are on opposite sides of the penninsula....I guess I can chalk it up to another "movie clip" adventure.
Well, I looked around in the mall a bit; there was a large bookstore which had a reasonable English section. They also, for whatever reason, sold sewing machines in there...I went into a department store called "Shinsegae" which is very "Macy's" - like. There were eleven floors, all connected by escalator; it is a bit of a journey to get down, as I found out.
I got back on the train, as this mall didn't seem to have much to offer, and got of at the COEX Mall. This was my folly. As crowded as the other mall had been, this one had twice the people. Once again, I had to go along with the tide of humanity. The COEX Mall is part of the World Trade Center complex; I believe COEX stands for "country exchange." There were quite a few Western stores and restaurants in this place; I counted two Baskin Robbins, an Outback, a Dunkin' Donuts, a Starbucks, and a 7-11. There were also the staple American clothing brand stores and The Body Shop. I wandered into various clothing sotres, but the merchants all seemed amused when I asked about "big" clothes....One young man helpfully pointed out the T-shirt section to me...in the men's department. I have seen plump Koreans around, dressed like everyone else (usually middle-aged women), so they must be shopping somewhere...Their body-build is similar to mine (short-waisted, and, well, short), so I know I would look well in the fashion lines. I was tempted to pull aside some of these middle-aged mamas to ask where they shopped, but my Korean is still developmental and I didn't know the words to tactfully ask in Korean.
Feelinglike an elephant among the gazelles, I pushed my way through. I noticed I was getting some odd stares (more than usual), and suddenly realized why. Some of my clothes are fitting looser, but I think this is due to my evil washing machine rather than weight-loss; I have to hang dry everything, and knit stretches. Well, apparently the top I was wearing has stretched a bit in the neck....to put it bluntly, my scoop-necked bra was visible at certain moments, and both men and women were looking...I certainly hope the women were looking out of envy; it would make me feel so much bettter after navigating through skinny-person land. I retied my top-tie for modesty's sake, and went on my way.
I passed an eclectic home-decor shop and was immediately arrested by the display. This place was packed, and I could see why. In the front of the store was a mound of pillows. Prominently displayed was a group of anatomically-correct booby-pillows! They were firm but squishy, and had erect rubber nipples fastened on them. Everyone was playing with them and squishing them, young, old, children. No one seemed embarassed or concerned, so I decided not to be. Upon further examination, I found them to be neck pillows; you rest the back of your neck in the clevage. There were also bone pillows, bow tie pillows, and any other thing you can think of in the general shape of a neck pillow, interspersed among the boob pillows.The rest of the store was also very browse-worthy, if a bit mixed up in styles.
In the center of the mall, there is a stage where young hip-hop performers and breakdancers perform. The fist time I went by, there wasn't much going on except some apathetic skinny girls doing a bump-and-grind (not very skillfully), but the second time, there were a couple of quick and acrobatic young men breakdancing and popping with amzing agility, speed, and balance. I have seen quite a bit of breakdancing, but these guys had MOVES. The guy in the red shirt was especially good, not very attractive, but skilled.
I also apparently nearly ran over a Korean celebrity; there were girls and cameras surrounding him, but they were in motion; he just grinned under his sunglasses. He was talking to the group and answering questions. He was snazzily dressed, and seeemed poised and at ease with the crowd. I passed by.
I got to the end of the mall, where there was a movie theater, but couldn't make heads or tails on a) what was playing and b) how to buy tickets, so I headed back. I caught the subway (I had to stand most of the journey) and came home.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
JOURNAL: Bad bad Kimch'i!
I am a bit sick tonight; I expect it is all the Korean food mixed with the extra pollution in the air from all the rain. I had some bad kimch'i yesterday afternoon in the cafeteria; it was apparently soaked in fish oil or something. Not only did it taste aweful, but I choked on the cabbage. I almost threw up in front of everyone (my bile rises even thinking about it now). I am not sure why I have such an aversion to fish, but I do. The curry that went with it was, rather perversely, not spicy at all. That night, they served kimch'i friend rice; I ate the scrambled egg that accompanies every Korean meal (they even put them in sandwiches!), but could not face another round of bad kimch'i. I normally like it, in moderation, but the school's variety leaves much to be desired. Tonight's meal was rather bland; cold noodles in soy milk with sesame. It didn't really taste like anything, but my stomach still protested. I managed to worry down a few bites before giving up. Normally, the food is pretty tasty, but this week, it is just bad. I can't wait until sandwich day....
On Tuesday night, I had a very good meal, though; I believe it is called galbi. They bring a bunch of sauces, veggies, and chilis out to you. They then bring live coals out and set them in the middle of the table. The waitress got the meat started on the grill after snipping it apart with scissors (Koreans use scissors much as we use cutting knives), and left us to watch the meat cook. We were chatting away, and when the waitress came back, the meat was rather well done...she stayed and grilled the meat for us. I was privately amused that the three North American guys I was with could not even grill properly.
To continue... You grab a leaf (bay, cabbage, or lettuce), place the raw carrots, onions, and cabbage shavings on your leaf with a little sauce, then dip you piece of meat in a green sauce and place it on top. You then fold the leaf and eat the whole mess, sort of like a Korean taco. It is yummy and surprisingly filling. Oh yes, and you drink cheap beer with it.
Well, I guess some of my adoring fans (all two of you) want to know what it is like teaching in Korea, so here is a run-down:
I teach grades 1-6 (eight classes a day) in a rather exclusive hakwon. The classes are divided by ability and grade level. They are also divided by Returnees (those who have lived in North America or the U.K.) and Gifted-and-Talented (those who have exceptional ability in English and plan to study abroad). No speaking Korean is allowed within the school grounds. We hand out detentions and notes home just like at any other school. I teach reading, writing, vocabulary, grammar, and debate (upper level).
Hakwons are academies, much like American after-school programs, but more intensive. There are Arts hakwons, Taekwondo hakwons, Math hakwons, but most of all English hakwons. All students must pass an exhaustive comprehensive exam to graduate from high school, so it behooves the children to get extra attention in this area (males must serve a mandatory two years in the military as well).
A Korean child's number-one job is school. I have had more than one child break down in tears because they did not get a perfect score on something. Their parents push hard, sometimes to the point of harassing the teachers (sound familiar?). Most of the parents are reasonable, however, and I find the children very well-adjusted in soul and body. They are respectful of authority unless you screw up.
The other day, I mispronounced a student's name, and the class made fun of him for most of the period (I probably inadvertently called him "cabbage-head" or something). When I reprimanded the class for their obnoxious behavior, they suddenly began making fun of ME! Although startled by this behavior, I got my own in. We had a few minutes left over in class. I went up to the board, and wrote four names: Hepsibah, Methusalah, Jehosophat, and Mephistopheles. I then calmly asked the would-be rebels to correctly pronounce the names. "Methusalah" was especially difficult, as the Koreans cannot distinguish easily between "r" and "l" ( the cafeteria lady told one teacher that she was serving "flied lice" one night). I then moralized, after much laughter, that it is very rude to make fun of someone (for example, a "foreign" teacher!) who is new to one's culture and unable to pronounce words properly at first.
There are a few trouble-makers, but their parents are pretty well aware of how their children act, and punish accordingly if word gets home. I even have a well-known (in Korea) child movie star; he is very talkative, and always has to be the center of attention, but he is also respectful of authority.There are, of course, a few spoiled brats, but they are not flat-out rebelling, which helps. I have a few students whom I suspect might do well with a course of Ritalin, however; fotunately, I am experienced in these matters.
As I said, I work at a rather exclusive hakwon; they strenuously screen the students who want to get in. As a result, the children I get are unusually bright. This is both a good and bad thing. Good, becuase it makes teaching easier; bad, because they see right through the typical "teacher bag o' tricks" for classroom management! I have to always be on my toes because they remember everything. These students are excellent at retaining information, if it is sufficiently demonstrated, but rather poor on creative thinking and problem solving. Definately left-brainers. My first-graders are the exception; I do lots of artsy things with them. I have a few excellent writers, and I encourage them to develop their creative talents, even though it is not a vey Korean thing to do.
We work with Korean staff; the Korean teachers often act as liasons between the English teachers and the parents. It is nice, because we don't have to deal directly with culture-clash. The downside of all the academic pressure is that the kids sometimes have meltdowns. I occasionally see children (especially the more sensitive girls) silently crying. I have learned that you do not offer comfort because they will absolutely deny that anything is wrong, even the littlest ones. Instead, they seem to get hold of themselves, and go on with their work. It shames them to have crying acknowledged. Koreans do not acknowledge the uglier emotions unless necessary.
I have one fifth-grade class that manifests this tendency by arguing all the time. They pick on each other constantly. One girl in the class especially amuses me; her demanor is that of a world-weary cynical thirty-year-old even though she can't be more than nine or ten. She has a very low but strong voice, kind of Tallulah Bankhead. She will be a pretty woman soon, I think, but the boys don't know quite how to handle her now! This fourth-grader called the boys, who were arguing, a bunch of "pessimists," (they were whining) but they reacted like she had called them a buch of assholes. I am afraid I cracked a smile at that one, because I knew that she knew what that word meant. The boys later retaliated by drawing rather clinically accurate caricatures of her as a monster. She tattled on them, and they grinned when I confronted them. I made them apologize, which they did; she said nothing, but firmly set her chin, glared at them, and nodded. Again, I was in serious danger of losing it. Instead, I used the boys as an object lesson for the word "discourteous."
My day is long and hectic, but I still manage to get a lot done. I have a two hour paid prep period, and consider it my biggest blessing! I have only had to come in early once to mark papers. I do come in a half hour early on Mondays to get a head start on lesson plans, but I don't mind as it is nice and quiet.
If my readers have any questions, please post them under comments, and I will answer what I legally can.
On Tuesday night, I had a very good meal, though; I believe it is called galbi. They bring a bunch of sauces, veggies, and chilis out to you. They then bring live coals out and set them in the middle of the table. The waitress got the meat started on the grill after snipping it apart with scissors (Koreans use scissors much as we use cutting knives), and left us to watch the meat cook. We were chatting away, and when the waitress came back, the meat was rather well done...she stayed and grilled the meat for us. I was privately amused that the three North American guys I was with could not even grill properly.
To continue... You grab a leaf (bay, cabbage, or lettuce), place the raw carrots, onions, and cabbage shavings on your leaf with a little sauce, then dip you piece of meat in a green sauce and place it on top. You then fold the leaf and eat the whole mess, sort of like a Korean taco. It is yummy and surprisingly filling. Oh yes, and you drink cheap beer with it.
Well, I guess some of my adoring fans (all two of you) want to know what it is like teaching in Korea, so here is a run-down:
I teach grades 1-6 (eight classes a day) in a rather exclusive hakwon. The classes are divided by ability and grade level. They are also divided by Returnees (those who have lived in North America or the U.K.) and Gifted-and-Talented (those who have exceptional ability in English and plan to study abroad). No speaking Korean is allowed within the school grounds. We hand out detentions and notes home just like at any other school. I teach reading, writing, vocabulary, grammar, and debate (upper level).
Hakwons are academies, much like American after-school programs, but more intensive. There are Arts hakwons, Taekwondo hakwons, Math hakwons, but most of all English hakwons. All students must pass an exhaustive comprehensive exam to graduate from high school, so it behooves the children to get extra attention in this area (males must serve a mandatory two years in the military as well).
A Korean child's number-one job is school. I have had more than one child break down in tears because they did not get a perfect score on something. Their parents push hard, sometimes to the point of harassing the teachers (sound familiar?). Most of the parents are reasonable, however, and I find the children very well-adjusted in soul and body. They are respectful of authority unless you screw up.
The other day, I mispronounced a student's name, and the class made fun of him for most of the period (I probably inadvertently called him "cabbage-head" or something). When I reprimanded the class for their obnoxious behavior, they suddenly began making fun of ME! Although startled by this behavior, I got my own in. We had a few minutes left over in class. I went up to the board, and wrote four names: Hepsibah, Methusalah, Jehosophat, and Mephistopheles. I then calmly asked the would-be rebels to correctly pronounce the names. "Methusalah" was especially difficult, as the Koreans cannot distinguish easily between "r" and "l" ( the cafeteria lady told one teacher that she was serving "flied lice" one night). I then moralized, after much laughter, that it is very rude to make fun of someone (for example, a "foreign" teacher!) who is new to one's culture and unable to pronounce words properly at first.
There are a few trouble-makers, but their parents are pretty well aware of how their children act, and punish accordingly if word gets home. I even have a well-known (in Korea) child movie star; he is very talkative, and always has to be the center of attention, but he is also respectful of authority.There are, of course, a few spoiled brats, but they are not flat-out rebelling, which helps. I have a few students whom I suspect might do well with a course of Ritalin, however; fotunately, I am experienced in these matters.
As I said, I work at a rather exclusive hakwon; they strenuously screen the students who want to get in. As a result, the children I get are unusually bright. This is both a good and bad thing. Good, becuase it makes teaching easier; bad, because they see right through the typical "teacher bag o' tricks" for classroom management! I have to always be on my toes because they remember everything. These students are excellent at retaining information, if it is sufficiently demonstrated, but rather poor on creative thinking and problem solving. Definately left-brainers. My first-graders are the exception; I do lots of artsy things with them. I have a few excellent writers, and I encourage them to develop their creative talents, even though it is not a vey Korean thing to do.
We work with Korean staff; the Korean teachers often act as liasons between the English teachers and the parents. It is nice, because we don't have to deal directly with culture-clash. The downside of all the academic pressure is that the kids sometimes have meltdowns. I occasionally see children (especially the more sensitive girls) silently crying. I have learned that you do not offer comfort because they will absolutely deny that anything is wrong, even the littlest ones. Instead, they seem to get hold of themselves, and go on with their work. It shames them to have crying acknowledged. Koreans do not acknowledge the uglier emotions unless necessary.
I have one fifth-grade class that manifests this tendency by arguing all the time. They pick on each other constantly. One girl in the class especially amuses me; her demanor is that of a world-weary cynical thirty-year-old even though she can't be more than nine or ten. She has a very low but strong voice, kind of Tallulah Bankhead. She will be a pretty woman soon, I think, but the boys don't know quite how to handle her now! This fourth-grader called the boys, who were arguing, a bunch of "pessimists," (they were whining) but they reacted like she had called them a buch of assholes. I am afraid I cracked a smile at that one, because I knew that she knew what that word meant. The boys later retaliated by drawing rather clinically accurate caricatures of her as a monster. She tattled on them, and they grinned when I confronted them. I made them apologize, which they did; she said nothing, but firmly set her chin, glared at them, and nodded. Again, I was in serious danger of losing it. Instead, I used the boys as an object lesson for the word "discourteous."
My day is long and hectic, but I still manage to get a lot done. I have a two hour paid prep period, and consider it my biggest blessing! I have only had to come in early once to mark papers. I do come in a half hour early on Mondays to get a head start on lesson plans, but I don't mind as it is nice and quiet.
If my readers have any questions, please post them under comments, and I will answer what I legally can.
Monday, July 25, 2005
JOURNAL: Motorcycles, Churches, and Acts of God
I finally found a church with a wonderful English service. It is a very intercultural church called Youngnak Church (Presbytarian, I believe). The pastor is an American out of Oklahoma with a degree from Dallas Theological Seminary; as you can probably guess, he is Baptist in background. He is married to a Korean woman, and has two teenage daughters. The church's purpose is to provide a home base for people staying in Korea. There is a good mix of young and old; there is also a good praise and worship team. On their website, you can see the service I attended yesterday (3:00 p.m.) at http://www.myiwe.com.
I was introduced to this place by one of my Korean-American co-workers. He took a tour group to one of the royal palaces and Insadong on Saturday, and he invited me to church. I really liked the woman who came with him; she is involved with the Children's Ministry, I believe. This nice young man offered me a ride to church on his motorbike, which he had borrowed from the pastor. I declined, and it is a good thing I did. On Saturday night, he was in an accident involving a cab passenger opening the door right into him as he was riding by! He is on crutches now.
I was really impressed by how friendly and welcoming the people were. I ended up going out to dinner with a group of them; I was the only Caucasian, but there were some Korean-Americans along as well. We had great fun talking and telling stories during dinner (we ate Italian!). I listened with much interest as the debate over dogmeat erupted; most are against it ("dogs are pets, not food!"). Dogmeat is apparently good for the skin and the health. Not surprising really, considering that it shares 99 % of the protein make-up of human meat! I guess it is akin to beef in taste; I have no current plans to find out.
I fully intend to attend next week. I like the laid-back, but respectful atmosphere.
I was introduced to this place by one of my Korean-American co-workers. He took a tour group to one of the royal palaces and Insadong on Saturday, and he invited me to church. I really liked the woman who came with him; she is involved with the Children's Ministry, I believe. This nice young man offered me a ride to church on his motorbike, which he had borrowed from the pastor. I declined, and it is a good thing I did. On Saturday night, he was in an accident involving a cab passenger opening the door right into him as he was riding by! He is on crutches now.
I was really impressed by how friendly and welcoming the people were. I ended up going out to dinner with a group of them; I was the only Caucasian, but there were some Korean-Americans along as well. We had great fun talking and telling stories during dinner (we ate Italian!). I listened with much interest as the debate over dogmeat erupted; most are against it ("dogs are pets, not food!"). Dogmeat is apparently good for the skin and the health. Not surprising really, considering that it shares 99 % of the protein make-up of human meat! I guess it is akin to beef in taste; I have no current plans to find out.
I fully intend to attend next week. I like the laid-back, but respectful atmosphere.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Journal: Chasing Tail
The heat this week is really getting to me; I am so tired of being sticky. I had to wear one of my fall button ups today due to a laundry crisis; I won't let that happen again anytime soon. In a way, I am used to the heat, but I still find it tiring to walk the 20 minutes to work. Being locked in a small classroom with 12 sweating "in progress" adolescents in a country known for its lack of deodorant was not exactly pleasant either, especially since the A/C is under repair.
I have made a "friend" in the neighborhood; I have no idea what his name is, but I see him everyday. He apparently works for one of the many restaurants in my neighborhood; I see his father/uncle also on the street trying to hawk up business. As near as I can tell, they also act as an informal posse of traffic cops. I have also seen him on one of the "Scooter terrors" that roam Seoul's sidewalks in search of fresh pedestrian targets. His uncle/father (there is a family resemblance) possesses the unique talent of being able to sleep standing up while waiting for business. I peered under his broad hat one day in passing, and discovered he was fast asleep!
My "friend" speaks good English, and always greet me or waves; he asks me a new question each time I see him. He is horribly skinny, but has a nice face. He is rather bold for a sober Korean; most Korean men appear to be afraid of "foreigners," especially the women, and will not even approach us. With enough soju, however, they tend to become rather aggressive, or so I have been told. I really haven't been here long enough to make judgements. This guy makes eye contact with me, which is a bit unusual. I find eye contact is a great way to shake up my misbehaving students!
As I was just sitting here, the employee of the "PC Bong" at the next terminal very sweetly offered me half of his sweet potato pastry. How sweet! I find people here are very kind and giving; I have been the recipient of many generous acts. I try to "pay it forward;" I gave away some of my spiral notebooks today to some of my coworkers. Lined paper is very hard to get here.
Last night, as I was walking home, a young woman approached me, and rather randomly asked whether I spoke Chinese. She is looking for a Chinese teacher, and thought I worked at the neighborhood language school. She had graduated from the girl's high school down the block, and has lived here most of her life. I find that amazing. She was probably in her mid-twenties, and still lived at home. We had a nice chat and then she went her way and I went mine.
Tonight, however, I took one of my infamous "detours," and ended up a half hour later precisely one city block from whence I came! I was yakking away with one of my co-workers, who very kindly lent me the new "Harry Potter" (British edition!), and not paying much attention where I was going....I wandered through some alleyways and a park (where children were still playing at full volume even at ten o clock at night!), dodged a few drunk business men with annoyed wives, and randomly followed a group of mothers with strollers. I was mentally checking the contents of my wallet to see if a taxi was feasable, but then realized I didn't even know the name of my street (the neighborhood is "Gangdang-Gu"). I have not felt that lost in a long time. I suddenly found myself in a familiar place, but could not at first place it. It took me a few minutes to realize I was back on Olympic Parkway.
I considered going back into the wilderness of alleyways to get to the "Mouse House" (where I am now, but decided to take the main drag, even though it meant passing through the fish market site on a sultry evening (you cannot, however hard you try, hold your breath for a Seoul city block!). I made it here ok, after all (too late for Baskin Robbins!). I think I will go home now, and read "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince."
I have made a "friend" in the neighborhood; I have no idea what his name is, but I see him everyday. He apparently works for one of the many restaurants in my neighborhood; I see his father/uncle also on the street trying to hawk up business. As near as I can tell, they also act as an informal posse of traffic cops. I have also seen him on one of the "Scooter terrors" that roam Seoul's sidewalks in search of fresh pedestrian targets. His uncle/father (there is a family resemblance) possesses the unique talent of being able to sleep standing up while waiting for business. I peered under his broad hat one day in passing, and discovered he was fast asleep!
My "friend" speaks good English, and always greet me or waves; he asks me a new question each time I see him. He is horribly skinny, but has a nice face. He is rather bold for a sober Korean; most Korean men appear to be afraid of "foreigners," especially the women, and will not even approach us. With enough soju, however, they tend to become rather aggressive, or so I have been told. I really haven't been here long enough to make judgements. This guy makes eye contact with me, which is a bit unusual. I find eye contact is a great way to shake up my misbehaving students!
As I was just sitting here, the employee of the "PC Bong" at the next terminal very sweetly offered me half of his sweet potato pastry. How sweet! I find people here are very kind and giving; I have been the recipient of many generous acts. I try to "pay it forward;" I gave away some of my spiral notebooks today to some of my coworkers. Lined paper is very hard to get here.
Last night, as I was walking home, a young woman approached me, and rather randomly asked whether I spoke Chinese. She is looking for a Chinese teacher, and thought I worked at the neighborhood language school. She had graduated from the girl's high school down the block, and has lived here most of her life. I find that amazing. She was probably in her mid-twenties, and still lived at home. We had a nice chat and then she went her way and I went mine.
Tonight, however, I took one of my infamous "detours," and ended up a half hour later precisely one city block from whence I came! I was yakking away with one of my co-workers, who very kindly lent me the new "Harry Potter" (British edition!), and not paying much attention where I was going....I wandered through some alleyways and a park (where children were still playing at full volume even at ten o clock at night!), dodged a few drunk business men with annoyed wives, and randomly followed a group of mothers with strollers. I was mentally checking the contents of my wallet to see if a taxi was feasable, but then realized I didn't even know the name of my street (the neighborhood is "Gangdang-Gu"). I have not felt that lost in a long time. I suddenly found myself in a familiar place, but could not at first place it. It took me a few minutes to realize I was back on Olympic Parkway.
I considered going back into the wilderness of alleyways to get to the "Mouse House" (where I am now, but decided to take the main drag, even though it meant passing through the fish market site on a sultry evening (you cannot, however hard you try, hold your breath for a Seoul city block!). I made it here ok, after all (too late for Baskin Robbins!). I think I will go home now, and read "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince."
Sunday, July 17, 2005
JOURNAL: That Old Time Religion
My "adventure of the week" was a trip to Insadong, the district of Seoul where everyone goes to buy antiques. It was a Saturday afternoon, and very crowded. There were quite a few "foreigners" (us) wandering about; the tourbook assured me that it is a happening place with the ex-pat community.
There were quite a few stalls and stores geared specifically for tourists, so I avoided them with much pleasure (except to buy a cheap, but functional paper fan) and went in search of better quarry. I found out something that the tourbooks do not mention, which is that Insadong is also a very happening modern art community. Among the hawkers selling food, souvenirs, and trinkets, there were stores specializing in modern textile art, lacquer wear, and sculpture. Quite a bit of the art was what you might call functionally abstract, but it was a feast of colors and shapes for the eye. I also discovered, after a climb up a very steep staircase, a bookstore called "Vook" (visual book) which specializes in art books. There were browsing copies of most of the books, and a central area where patrons could sit and browse while sipping drinks from the cafe. I gathered that most of the sitters in there were art students. I fond a rare book on Aubrey Beardsley that I was tempted by, but did not ultimately purchase.
I wandered down some of the crazy, twisting alleyways (where the real antiques can be found), where there are quite a few "local color" restaurants and traditional teahouses. When my Korean improves (it can only get better; it can't get any worse!), I plan to visit one.
The purported antique stores were vastly outnumbered by other stores; even so, there were about a half dozen elderly vendors with their wares spread out on the sidewalk. Most of the antiques were along the line of cookware and furniture. I bought a very charming tea pouring device, with elaborate painting and brasswork for about 30,000 won (a little less than $30). I have a nook in my new apartment that needs filling, and it fits there perfectly. I was also taken by some beautiful silk panel paintings of the Korean tiger (now extinct) in one of the stores; I may go back later to get them if they are still there.
I was both fascinated and bemused when I came upon a vendor selling jade, specifically what one might call antique jade fertility aids. There was no folk art element to these objects; they were straight out jade phallusses, in plain vew. I am talking true-to-life, with veins, furrows, and all...I was a little unnerved by them; the excellent craftsmanship made them look alive (like Michalangelo's "David"), but they were also very green...I wondered what one actually did with them. Were they meant for lonely women passing the time while their husbands were away at war? Did a man with fertility issues put one under his pillow? Did one rub them on the affected area like a magic lamp? I was going to buy one as a conversation piece, but decided I didn't have the nerve (or money). The vendor was giving me a strange look anyway (women are still supposed to be "innocent" around here) so I passed on.
I stepped into one of the many art malls, and instantly became smitten with a lacquer and mother-of-pearl jewelry case. These type of things are a dime a dozen in Korea, but this one was special. The saleslady tried to get me interested in some chintsy tourist knock-off varieties, but I wanted to look at this one. The craftsmanship was superb, and the design was very detailed and intricate (butterflies). She showed me the maker's mark on the bottom, and explained that I had picked a box by a very famous Korean artist( I think she said Pak Sunmyun?). It was 75,000 won. She was willing to bargain a bit, but it was still too rich for my blood. I went upstairs where they had even more of this particular artist's work; a different salesperson also tried to get me to buy. There were two very large jewelry cases with even more fine detail; they were marked at 1 million won ($1000). I may go back later for the small box.
There was a large art mall about halfway down the market where there was an avant garde group of artists from Maryland Institute of Contemporary Art playing with plastic bags. Now, this was one of the hottest days of the summer, so I give them credit for wearing plastic bags over their entire bodies, head and all, and standing in poses (I gues their mamas never told them to keep their faces out of plastic bags!). I shot some video footage with my camera. They then passed out bags to everyone, including the people on the other levels of the mall (it was an open air mall with ramps going up the levels). We were then instructed to make as much noise as possible with the bags; every last person participated, which amazed me. I would love to get an improv troop out here! After we "rustled" for a few minutes, the artists stopped, demonstrated blowing into the bags, and, you guessed it, popped them. On cue, every last spectator blew into their bags and popped them in unison. The End.
I wandered to the end of the street, and found myself at a park. Inside the park was a pagoda (under glass) from the 1400s, carved with Buddhas and human figures. There was also a large
pavillion, garishly but strikingly painted in violent greens, oranges, and reds. It apparently served as a music hall for the royal family in the summer months, but is of even more significance to the Korean nation in a different way. It was here that a group of 4000 university students formally protested the Japanese takeover and subsequent colonization of Korea (sometime in the teens of the twentieth century), with the expected results. At the front of the park is a stone monument with the Korean Declaration of Independence carved in Hang'ul. There is a walkway with several stone relief (carved) panels telling the story of the Japanese takeover. There are panels of bloodshed, bodies lined up in a row on the sidewalks, and a woman being forced onto her knees at swordpoint. The woman is in a traditional hanbok, and I believe she is meant to represent Korea. The panels are quite disturbing, and, although I knew I lacked some knowlege as to their more abstract meaning, I was quite moved. I went and sat on the pavillion steps to catch my breath. A man came by with an old newspaper and requested that I sit on it. I looked around and noticed that everyone else was sitting on newspapers, so I complied (there is an important Buddhist monk buried nearby). I was also the only female.
Inside the pavillion, there was an old man laying on his back with one arm in the air, and one leg over his knee. I soon realized that he was singing; it was a very haunting tune, and brought tears to my eyes. He was very advanced in age, bald, and quite clearly senile (or insane), but his voice was strong, vibrant, and clearly trained at some point. His voice held such sorrow and expression; I wondered if it was a love ballad he was singing, or maybe a commemoration for those who had died. I wondered if he had been a performer. I listned to his outpouring of sorrow until the song ended. He started another song, but the mood was broken when a group of old coots began arguing loudly, with wild gestures and angry faces.
There were many elderly people sitting around in the park. On my way into the park, one of them had gesticulated at me, and given me a thumbs up. As I went towards the commemoration panels, an old man and his wife shouted at me and gave me hostile looks. Clearly, there was something going on that I didn't know about (Bush go braugh!). On my way out of the panelled walkway, I saw the old man and his wife again. They looked up at me as I passed by, and I smiled and gave them a deep, respectful bow. I think it worked, because they were silent after that.
On my way home, I stopped briefly at the Presbytarian church on my block. I live in a VERY Korean neighborhood (only one other foreigner) so I get stared at quite a bit. The man at the desk, with English less-than-stellar, said that they had an English service at 11 am. I attended this morning, and it was decidedly NOT in English. It occured to me that the man I had spoken to misunderstood me; there were Koreans there who could speak English enough to tell me where to go. The sermon, as a result, was completely lost on me. I very much enjoyed the misuc; the choir was fantastically good, and I recognized the tunes, if not the words, of several old hymns. The choir sang "Amazing Grace" in Korean; the arrangement was rather Eastern, but strangely striking. They also have a small orchestra. The church is very full; there are four services, and there were five busloads of people attending the service I went to (I sat out of sight in the balcony). The resulting traffic jam on the narrow streets after the service was quite a sight; there are two rival grocery stores on either side of the street, and the hawkers chose the moment of absolute suspension (five busloads of people all trying to get down a one way street at the same time) to squawk their wares loudly over the noise of the traffic. The resultant cacaphony was quite amusing.
There were quite a few stalls and stores geared specifically for tourists, so I avoided them with much pleasure (except to buy a cheap, but functional paper fan) and went in search of better quarry. I found out something that the tourbooks do not mention, which is that Insadong is also a very happening modern art community. Among the hawkers selling food, souvenirs, and trinkets, there were stores specializing in modern textile art, lacquer wear, and sculpture. Quite a bit of the art was what you might call functionally abstract, but it was a feast of colors and shapes for the eye. I also discovered, after a climb up a very steep staircase, a bookstore called "Vook" (visual book) which specializes in art books. There were browsing copies of most of the books, and a central area where patrons could sit and browse while sipping drinks from the cafe. I gathered that most of the sitters in there were art students. I fond a rare book on Aubrey Beardsley that I was tempted by, but did not ultimately purchase.
I wandered down some of the crazy, twisting alleyways (where the real antiques can be found), where there are quite a few "local color" restaurants and traditional teahouses. When my Korean improves (it can only get better; it can't get any worse!), I plan to visit one.
The purported antique stores were vastly outnumbered by other stores; even so, there were about a half dozen elderly vendors with their wares spread out on the sidewalk. Most of the antiques were along the line of cookware and furniture. I bought a very charming tea pouring device, with elaborate painting and brasswork for about 30,000 won (a little less than $30). I have a nook in my new apartment that needs filling, and it fits there perfectly. I was also taken by some beautiful silk panel paintings of the Korean tiger (now extinct) in one of the stores; I may go back later to get them if they are still there.
I was both fascinated and bemused when I came upon a vendor selling jade, specifically what one might call antique jade fertility aids. There was no folk art element to these objects; they were straight out jade phallusses, in plain vew. I am talking true-to-life, with veins, furrows, and all...I was a little unnerved by them; the excellent craftsmanship made them look alive (like Michalangelo's "David"), but they were also very green...I wondered what one actually did with them. Were they meant for lonely women passing the time while their husbands were away at war? Did a man with fertility issues put one under his pillow? Did one rub them on the affected area like a magic lamp? I was going to buy one as a conversation piece, but decided I didn't have the nerve (or money). The vendor was giving me a strange look anyway (women are still supposed to be "innocent" around here) so I passed on.
I stepped into one of the many art malls, and instantly became smitten with a lacquer and mother-of-pearl jewelry case. These type of things are a dime a dozen in Korea, but this one was special. The saleslady tried to get me interested in some chintsy tourist knock-off varieties, but I wanted to look at this one. The craftsmanship was superb, and the design was very detailed and intricate (butterflies). She showed me the maker's mark on the bottom, and explained that I had picked a box by a very famous Korean artist( I think she said Pak Sunmyun?). It was 75,000 won. She was willing to bargain a bit, but it was still too rich for my blood. I went upstairs where they had even more of this particular artist's work; a different salesperson also tried to get me to buy. There were two very large jewelry cases with even more fine detail; they were marked at 1 million won ($1000). I may go back later for the small box.
There was a large art mall about halfway down the market where there was an avant garde group of artists from Maryland Institute of Contemporary Art playing with plastic bags. Now, this was one of the hottest days of the summer, so I give them credit for wearing plastic bags over their entire bodies, head and all, and standing in poses (I gues their mamas never told them to keep their faces out of plastic bags!). I shot some video footage with my camera. They then passed out bags to everyone, including the people on the other levels of the mall (it was an open air mall with ramps going up the levels). We were then instructed to make as much noise as possible with the bags; every last person participated, which amazed me. I would love to get an improv troop out here! After we "rustled" for a few minutes, the artists stopped, demonstrated blowing into the bags, and, you guessed it, popped them. On cue, every last spectator blew into their bags and popped them in unison. The End.
I wandered to the end of the street, and found myself at a park. Inside the park was a pagoda (under glass) from the 1400s, carved with Buddhas and human figures. There was also a large
pavillion, garishly but strikingly painted in violent greens, oranges, and reds. It apparently served as a music hall for the royal family in the summer months, but is of even more significance to the Korean nation in a different way. It was here that a group of 4000 university students formally protested the Japanese takeover and subsequent colonization of Korea (sometime in the teens of the twentieth century), with the expected results. At the front of the park is a stone monument with the Korean Declaration of Independence carved in Hang'ul. There is a walkway with several stone relief (carved) panels telling the story of the Japanese takeover. There are panels of bloodshed, bodies lined up in a row on the sidewalks, and a woman being forced onto her knees at swordpoint. The woman is in a traditional hanbok, and I believe she is meant to represent Korea. The panels are quite disturbing, and, although I knew I lacked some knowlege as to their more abstract meaning, I was quite moved. I went and sat on the pavillion steps to catch my breath. A man came by with an old newspaper and requested that I sit on it. I looked around and noticed that everyone else was sitting on newspapers, so I complied (there is an important Buddhist monk buried nearby). I was also the only female.
Inside the pavillion, there was an old man laying on his back with one arm in the air, and one leg over his knee. I soon realized that he was singing; it was a very haunting tune, and brought tears to my eyes. He was very advanced in age, bald, and quite clearly senile (or insane), but his voice was strong, vibrant, and clearly trained at some point. His voice held such sorrow and expression; I wondered if it was a love ballad he was singing, or maybe a commemoration for those who had died. I wondered if he had been a performer. I listned to his outpouring of sorrow until the song ended. He started another song, but the mood was broken when a group of old coots began arguing loudly, with wild gestures and angry faces.
There were many elderly people sitting around in the park. On my way into the park, one of them had gesticulated at me, and given me a thumbs up. As I went towards the commemoration panels, an old man and his wife shouted at me and gave me hostile looks. Clearly, there was something going on that I didn't know about (Bush go braugh!). On my way out of the panelled walkway, I saw the old man and his wife again. They looked up at me as I passed by, and I smiled and gave them a deep, respectful bow. I think it worked, because they were silent after that.
On my way home, I stopped briefly at the Presbytarian church on my block. I live in a VERY Korean neighborhood (only one other foreigner) so I get stared at quite a bit. The man at the desk, with English less-than-stellar, said that they had an English service at 11 am. I attended this morning, and it was decidedly NOT in English. It occured to me that the man I had spoken to misunderstood me; there were Koreans there who could speak English enough to tell me where to go. The sermon, as a result, was completely lost on me. I very much enjoyed the misuc; the choir was fantastically good, and I recognized the tunes, if not the words, of several old hymns. The choir sang "Amazing Grace" in Korean; the arrangement was rather Eastern, but strangely striking. They also have a small orchestra. The church is very full; there are four services, and there were five busloads of people attending the service I went to (I sat out of sight in the balcony). The resulting traffic jam on the narrow streets after the service was quite a sight; there are two rival grocery stores on either side of the street, and the hawkers chose the moment of absolute suspension (five busloads of people all trying to get down a one way street at the same time) to squawk their wares loudly over the noise of the traffic. The resultant cacaphony was quite amusing.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
JOURNAL: Learning to Walk Again
I have a new apartment....yessssss.....No more sewer gas!
My spacious studio apartment has a large bathroom, with an actual shower stall; this is amazing because most of the time, your shower is just a hose on the wall and a drain. There is a large mirror, medicine cabinet, and a western style toilet (another plus). I took a very cold shower yesterday because I did not know that the device I took to be a thermostat turned out to control the hot water; you have to turn it on for about ten minutes before you get warm water. I wish someone had enlightened me before I froze my backside off!
I also have a kitchenette with what purports to be a gas stove, but is actually a glorified hotplate. There is no microwave. It took me several times, and near suffocation from the natural gas, to figure out how to get it to ignite properly. I was so happy I celebrated by boiling a pot of water! The previous tenant had left a big box of Quaker Instant Oatmeal, so I had that for breakfast.
Next I tackled the washing machine. This turned out to be more of a challenge. I easily found the ON button, but was mystified by the other buttons. Like a stupid Westerner, I threw some clothes in and pushed the green button. It seemed to take a long time for the washer to stop, and I suddenly realized it had gone through three or four cycles. Not only that, but the floor was flooded (the washer is on the veranda). I determinedly waited for the next spin cycle to end, then stopped the washer. I looked at the buttons closer, and discovered that it was apparently set on 18 cycles (oh, so that is what that random number means!). You need to preset the cycle number on each part of the wash (filling, spin cycle, rinsing, etc). The machine is not smart, and won't do it for you. Moreover, it doesn't automatically stop, so you have to keep an eye on it. There is no dryer, so my clothes are hung up to dry all over the place right now. They are still not dry because it is very humid in Seoul. I am seriously considering sending my laundry out to be cleaned; it is very cheap around here.
I have not yet figured out the tv. I suspect, by the phalanx of satellite dishes I see in the neighborhood, that cable is a necessary evil. I cannot get a single channel to come in, or figure out how to turn the volume down. I really wish I could speak Korean, so I could read the buttons on the fancy remote...
The funny thing about the apartment is that in some ways, it is ultra modern. I have a keypad entry, and the lights turn on when I come in (motion sensors?).
As for the school, things are hectic, but do-able. On my first day of teaching, one of the girls suddenly got up, walked over to one of the boys, and belted him hard across the back! I don't know what he said, but it must have been pretty good! I took approprate steps, but it was quite unexpected, nevertheless. The boys tease the girls horribly, mostly because they can, I think. Boys and girls separate themselves in this country, I have found, so when a boy acts up, I make him sit next to a girl! I find it most effective. In one class, there is only one boy, and he is very shy as a result!
I am finding I am actually in double culture shock, as the majority of the teachers are Canadian. Most of them have been in Korea for more than a year, and have formed their own social group. Being a bit group-shy, I find it hard to "break-in." On Tuesday, one of my coworkers did take me out for a drink in Itewon, and it was nice. He is a good conversationalist, and has a rather intellectual bent. I think there is something going on next week as one of the teachers is going home. I do feel a bit left out, though, although I still hope to make some friends here. My apartment is isolated from everyone else; I live in a different neighborhood and am still a little lost. I hope things get a little less lonely as time wears on.
My spacious studio apartment has a large bathroom, with an actual shower stall; this is amazing because most of the time, your shower is just a hose on the wall and a drain. There is a large mirror, medicine cabinet, and a western style toilet (another plus). I took a very cold shower yesterday because I did not know that the device I took to be a thermostat turned out to control the hot water; you have to turn it on for about ten minutes before you get warm water. I wish someone had enlightened me before I froze my backside off!
I also have a kitchenette with what purports to be a gas stove, but is actually a glorified hotplate. There is no microwave. It took me several times, and near suffocation from the natural gas, to figure out how to get it to ignite properly. I was so happy I celebrated by boiling a pot of water! The previous tenant had left a big box of Quaker Instant Oatmeal, so I had that for breakfast.
Next I tackled the washing machine. This turned out to be more of a challenge. I easily found the ON button, but was mystified by the other buttons. Like a stupid Westerner, I threw some clothes in and pushed the green button. It seemed to take a long time for the washer to stop, and I suddenly realized it had gone through three or four cycles. Not only that, but the floor was flooded (the washer is on the veranda). I determinedly waited for the next spin cycle to end, then stopped the washer. I looked at the buttons closer, and discovered that it was apparently set on 18 cycles (oh, so that is what that random number means!). You need to preset the cycle number on each part of the wash (filling, spin cycle, rinsing, etc). The machine is not smart, and won't do it for you. Moreover, it doesn't automatically stop, so you have to keep an eye on it. There is no dryer, so my clothes are hung up to dry all over the place right now. They are still not dry because it is very humid in Seoul. I am seriously considering sending my laundry out to be cleaned; it is very cheap around here.
I have not yet figured out the tv. I suspect, by the phalanx of satellite dishes I see in the neighborhood, that cable is a necessary evil. I cannot get a single channel to come in, or figure out how to turn the volume down. I really wish I could speak Korean, so I could read the buttons on the fancy remote...
The funny thing about the apartment is that in some ways, it is ultra modern. I have a keypad entry, and the lights turn on when I come in (motion sensors?).
As for the school, things are hectic, but do-able. On my first day of teaching, one of the girls suddenly got up, walked over to one of the boys, and belted him hard across the back! I don't know what he said, but it must have been pretty good! I took approprate steps, but it was quite unexpected, nevertheless. The boys tease the girls horribly, mostly because they can, I think. Boys and girls separate themselves in this country, I have found, so when a boy acts up, I make him sit next to a girl! I find it most effective. In one class, there is only one boy, and he is very shy as a result!
I am finding I am actually in double culture shock, as the majority of the teachers are Canadian. Most of them have been in Korea for more than a year, and have formed their own social group. Being a bit group-shy, I find it hard to "break-in." On Tuesday, one of my coworkers did take me out for a drink in Itewon, and it was nice. He is a good conversationalist, and has a rather intellectual bent. I think there is something going on next week as one of the teachers is going home. I do feel a bit left out, though, although I still hope to make some friends here. My apartment is isolated from everyone else; I live in a different neighborhood and am still a little lost. I hope things get a little less lonely as time wears on.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
RE: Red Light Green Light
Today I explored the subway system and DIDN'T GET LOST! It is actually pretty easy to get around, once you figure out the system. The stations are numbered and color coded. I went into Itewon, the "official tourist district," to purchase a cell-phone. Cell phones, bought new, are ridiculously expensive (about $700-$880 US), but I bought a used motorola (with a camera phone!) for, altogether (charger, minutes, voicemail) 200,000 Won ($180). When you run out of minutes, you simply buy more; no plan, no contract, no sweat. I like this system.
Itewon is a haven for American and Korean G.I.'s, as the"focky focky" shows and bars can attest to. I saw quite a few other "foreigners" (us!) wandering around. I got hopelessly lost and turned around at one point, and went out the wrong gate! I had to turn around and backtrack. I stopped at an Italian restaurant for lunch, and it was a good meal. The area has a slightly sordid air even during the day; here, women smoke on the street (they don't in the rest of Korea; it is vulgar), and some of them have Eurasian children. I saw many Caucasian men with Korean women, and the occasional hippy. Her, it is apparently ok for the cultures to mingle.
There is a part of the district known as "Hooker Hill," but I didn't go that far. My favorite "show" was the loudly advertized "HaHa - HoHo Show;" I guess that is where you go to see the "he-hes." I took some pictures with my new camera phone, but I am completely clueless as to how to get them out of the phone and into my computer.
I have been told it is pretty safe to wander at night; but it is not the locals I am concerned about, it is the other foreigners.
I browsed through the rather extensive name-brand knock off tents. I am on the lookout for the cheesiest tourist souvenir, but most of the things there are predictable, but rather classy. The "Prada" bubble hair elastic bands were sort of amusing. I bought a simple jade necklace; the lady spoke excellent English and was willing to bargain with me because "buisness was bad" due to all the rain today. I also got a garnet necklace.
I am dead beat right now, so I think I will go back home and rest for the evening.
Itewon is a haven for American and Korean G.I.'s, as the"focky focky" shows and bars can attest to. I saw quite a few other "foreigners" (us!) wandering around. I got hopelessly lost and turned around at one point, and went out the wrong gate! I had to turn around and backtrack. I stopped at an Italian restaurant for lunch, and it was a good meal. The area has a slightly sordid air even during the day; here, women smoke on the street (they don't in the rest of Korea; it is vulgar), and some of them have Eurasian children. I saw many Caucasian men with Korean women, and the occasional hippy. Her, it is apparently ok for the cultures to mingle.
There is a part of the district known as "Hooker Hill," but I didn't go that far. My favorite "show" was the loudly advertized "HaHa - HoHo Show;" I guess that is where you go to see the "he-hes." I took some pictures with my new camera phone, but I am completely clueless as to how to get them out of the phone and into my computer.
I have been told it is pretty safe to wander at night; but it is not the locals I am concerned about, it is the other foreigners.
I browsed through the rather extensive name-brand knock off tents. I am on the lookout for the cheesiest tourist souvenir, but most of the things there are predictable, but rather classy. The "Prada" bubble hair elastic bands were sort of amusing. I bought a simple jade necklace; the lady spoke excellent English and was willing to bargain with me because "buisness was bad" due to all the rain today. I also got a garnet necklace.
I am dead beat right now, so I think I will go back home and rest for the evening.
Friday, July 08, 2005
RE: Seoul Food
Sorry, folks, it has been awhile. I don't have any photos yet, but I will soon.
I arrived in Seoul on Monday without much incident. I met a very helpful serviceman on the plane, who generously gave me an extra phone card he had; it took me two days, however, to figure out how to use the payphones (push the RED button twice and hold it down to get a dial tone!). Pay phones are on a phone card basis, rather than coins, I found out. I am working on getting a cellphone this weekend.
The young man who met me at the airport was very helpful; it became apparent after some conversation that he was under the strange impression that many Americans carry firearms. There was also another young man there, and we discovered that we had just missed each other at Regent's College in London! What a small world...My "bodyguard" apparently received faulty directions as to where the school was, and we had to backtrack about ten blocks with all my luggage.
Mr. L (names changed to protect the innocent) met me at the school to take me to my temporary quarters. He is a very nice man, who, get this, has a degree in Theology from a Baptist Seminary in Paraguay! I am in a sublet apartment about a twenty minute walk from the school. I will move into my pemanent housing on Monday, which unfortunately is isolated (different building, different neighborhood) from the rest of the teachers. I do not feel this will help my social life prospects much, and am very dissapointed....It is supposed to be a large and spacious studio, however, a rare commodity in Seoul. I do hope it has a proper shower; my current one is basically a vegetable sprayer that reaches roughly the small of my back in its holder; one expat called it the "elephant hoser."
The school is suprisingly (given the hagwon school reputation) well accomodated. They work you hard, and schedules can change without any warning, but the children are rather well-behaved, although there are a few "instigaters" like in any classroom....The public school discipline is a bit harsh, I guess; this evening, one of the "returnees" (many of the students have lived in North America or great Britain) expressed her shock at being smacked with a wooden dowel because she wouldn't be quiet; she said her teacher in the U.S. only yelled! The other common punishment, which I kinda like the idea of, sadist that I am, is what loosely translates into "the invisible chair." The offending student (usually one who can't sit still) is made to sit like you would in a chair, against the wall, with no chair, and their arms extended out for balance. This punishment is administered for five minutes, and then the student gets to sit down. I bet THAT gets the "wiggles" out (all the students could demonstrate this punishment with ease; I guess you get used to it).
As for the people, more and more random strangers are trying to talk to me in Korean (I just smile and nod!). I am talking people just on the street. Today, a well-dressed young man approached me, made small talk in English, then pressed a pamphlet into my hand. I looked at it a little bit later...it was "The Watchtower" (end of the world variety). Darn it, they have them here, also! People are pretty friendly in general; what strikes me most about Seoul is the number of children. I am guessing that there is a large baby boom going on. For some reason, Korean children are very attracted to me (not so much American); the toddlers in particular will run away from their mothers to stare at me. I usually get a smile from mother and baby. At the school, I tend to get mobbed by the younger students as well. It is rather cool, but scary; I am afraid I might step on one!
I cannot fathom how these people stay so thin, given what they eat. Everything that moves or grows is deep-fried, pickled, or loaded with starch (rice and noodles). A few of the teachers at the school complain about gaining weight as a result. The deep-frying is mostly reserved for street-front restaurant food, but I notice that the stands are very popular. I guess you could call it "Seoul Food." I love k'imchi and a dumpling called molgi, I believe.
I am heading into the antiquing district tomorrow, and will explore some of the palaces. I am signing off, now, as I am very tired.
I arrived in Seoul on Monday without much incident. I met a very helpful serviceman on the plane, who generously gave me an extra phone card he had; it took me two days, however, to figure out how to use the payphones (push the RED button twice and hold it down to get a dial tone!). Pay phones are on a phone card basis, rather than coins, I found out. I am working on getting a cellphone this weekend.
The young man who met me at the airport was very helpful; it became apparent after some conversation that he was under the strange impression that many Americans carry firearms. There was also another young man there, and we discovered that we had just missed each other at Regent's College in London! What a small world...My "bodyguard" apparently received faulty directions as to where the school was, and we had to backtrack about ten blocks with all my luggage.
Mr. L (names changed to protect the innocent) met me at the school to take me to my temporary quarters. He is a very nice man, who, get this, has a degree in Theology from a Baptist Seminary in Paraguay! I am in a sublet apartment about a twenty minute walk from the school. I will move into my pemanent housing on Monday, which unfortunately is isolated (different building, different neighborhood) from the rest of the teachers. I do not feel this will help my social life prospects much, and am very dissapointed....It is supposed to be a large and spacious studio, however, a rare commodity in Seoul. I do hope it has a proper shower; my current one is basically a vegetable sprayer that reaches roughly the small of my back in its holder; one expat called it the "elephant hoser."
The school is suprisingly (given the hagwon school reputation) well accomodated. They work you hard, and schedules can change without any warning, but the children are rather well-behaved, although there are a few "instigaters" like in any classroom....The public school discipline is a bit harsh, I guess; this evening, one of the "returnees" (many of the students have lived in North America or great Britain) expressed her shock at being smacked with a wooden dowel because she wouldn't be quiet; she said her teacher in the U.S. only yelled! The other common punishment, which I kinda like the idea of, sadist that I am, is what loosely translates into "the invisible chair." The offending student (usually one who can't sit still) is made to sit like you would in a chair, against the wall, with no chair, and their arms extended out for balance. This punishment is administered for five minutes, and then the student gets to sit down. I bet THAT gets the "wiggles" out (all the students could demonstrate this punishment with ease; I guess you get used to it).
As for the people, more and more random strangers are trying to talk to me in Korean (I just smile and nod!). I am talking people just on the street. Today, a well-dressed young man approached me, made small talk in English, then pressed a pamphlet into my hand. I looked at it a little bit later...it was "The Watchtower" (end of the world variety). Darn it, they have them here, also! People are pretty friendly in general; what strikes me most about Seoul is the number of children. I am guessing that there is a large baby boom going on. For some reason, Korean children are very attracted to me (not so much American); the toddlers in particular will run away from their mothers to stare at me. I usually get a smile from mother and baby. At the school, I tend to get mobbed by the younger students as well. It is rather cool, but scary; I am afraid I might step on one!
I cannot fathom how these people stay so thin, given what they eat. Everything that moves or grows is deep-fried, pickled, or loaded with starch (rice and noodles). A few of the teachers at the school complain about gaining weight as a result. The deep-frying is mostly reserved for street-front restaurant food, but I notice that the stands are very popular. I guess you could call it "Seoul Food." I love k'imchi and a dumpling called molgi, I believe.
I am heading into the antiquing district tomorrow, and will explore some of the palaces. I am signing off, now, as I am very tired.
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