May 08

Sh*t My Students Write

Kids say the darndest things; that’s a constant across cultures. But add a foreign language to the mix and the often twisted humor of Korean children, and they can cook up some really bizarre comments. I’ll save the funny things my kids say in class for another post, but for now I’ll share a few of the things they’ve written during assignments.

 

The Most Appropriate Use of “F**k” I’ve Seen So FarKorea student English assignment

In case you can’t read it, the sign in the bottom row says, “Gay Beach”. The stick figure on the left is saying, “F**k”.

 

It’s the Little Things in Life

Some people want to sky dive, some people want to climb the tallest mountain… This girl is keeping her bucket list simple. I mean, erasers are an important part of life!

Korea student English assignment

 

There’s Hope for Ugly People

Keep in mind, this was done by a 12 year old… It’s a bit disheartening actually, but still pretty funny.

Korea student English assignment

 

The Zombie Apocalypse

Zombies really are going to take over the world, even the Koreans know it!
Korea student English assignment

 

I Have No Idea…

No comment… Korea student English assignment

 

Ladies and gentleman, I give you South Korean middle school students. 

 

 

May 02

Fatty McFatterson Joins a Korean Gym

You may have seen my recent Korean Food Porn post, or remember that Santa Barbara Food Fest I had, or heard me talk about the mass quantities of cupcakes I’ve been consuming lately.

 

In case I haven’t made it clear, let me state it now: I. Love. Cupcakes.

 

I also enjoy stuffing my face with ice cream, devouring decadent pieces of pie, and eating five packages of butter waffle cookies “just to get them out of the house”. My friends and I recently ordered this giant piece of toast covered in sugar and ice cream and descended upon it like a pack of wild beasts.

Delicious Honey Bread with ice cream in Korea

The thing is, despite all the scientific evidence I’ve made up in my head to suggest otherwise, my body does not just pee out the calories I consume.  I’ve even somehow started telling myself that every time I walk past a bakery and don’t order a cookie it’s as if I’m losing weight.

 

Well, friends, I’ve been proved wrong. It turns out every little bite of delicious sugar has taken up residence on my abdomen and multiplied like a couple of spring rabbits, providing my waistline with the most enviable of flotation devices. In case of flooding, I’ve got you covered.

 

So on the day I found I literally couldn’t button a pair of pants that used to be loose on me, I’d had enough. It was time to join a gym.

A few friends recommended a place near my house, so on a rainy afternoon I stepped into my trainers and walked determinedly toward the gym. The sign outside was, uh… motivating? It looked like an ad out of a 1990s meat head body builder magazine.

Body Builder Sign in Korea

Then I walked in and realized that the same muscley man on the sign was the guy who owned the gym. At least he was wearing clothes this time.

 

He greeted me with warm smile and in broken English attempted to explain the price to me. I nodded and immediately handed over some cash, before I had time to think about it and change my mind. He pointed to some shelves filled with clothing and pulled down a shirt and shorts and motioned for me to go change into them.

 

I wanted to ask, “Do I have to?” but didn’t know how to say it. I tried pointing to the perfectly acceptable workout attire I was already dressed in (“Look! T-shirt! Spandex pants! Okay!”) but he just kept smiling and motioning toward the locker room. Resigned to my fate, I went ahead and changed. I stepped out sporting an XXL prisoner-orange T-shirt and oversize gym shorts that hung past my knees.

Orange gym t-shirt

Despite the bulk of the shirt, the material managed to cling to every little bulge on my body. I stepped on the treadmill and broke into a jog; when I glanced at my reflection in the mirror all I saw was the pumpkin orange shirt hugging and accentuating every fat roll, bouncing up and down in slow motion as I huffed and puffed and stumbled along the treadmill. I looked like a contestant  from The Biggest Loser.

 

As I stomped and sweated, the Korean girl on the treadmill next to me strolled along at a leisurely pace. I noticed that she wasn’t wearing the prisoner orange T-shirt uniform or baggy gangster shorts. I slowed to a walk to catch my breath, and out of nowhere Mister Muscles popped up and said, “Fast-uh, fast-uh!” and started pressing the increase speed button.

 

On what planet is that okay?!? I wanted to point at the Korean girl who was examining her nails as she continued to walk comfortably and say “Her! Fast-uh, fast-uh, make her go fast-uh! And why doesn’t she have to wear this stupid outfit?!”

 

But I didn’t because by this point I already had a beet red face, my shirt was soaked with sweat,  my hair was frizzing out in all directions, and I looked like some kind of enraged wildebeest; if I tried to speak, only a hoarse bark would probably have surfaced and I didn’t want to be asked to leave the gym on my first day.

 

So I continued to run, and I will swear to you to this day that the treadmills are all set to a serious incline, making it feel like you’re running uphill.

 

Eventually I moved on to the weight machines. I sat in the chair to do something that would presumably give me sexy arms. Suddenly, Muscles was next to me again, letting me know I was doing it all wrong. He rearranged my chair, selected a different weight, and repositioned my hands. I felt like I was being prepared for battle.

 

I leaned back and lifted my arms to finally start doing something. I glanced in the mirror and noticed my belly pooching out through the oversized-shirt-that-somehow-makes-you-look-extra-fat and made a sad attempt at sucking it in.

Belly gif

He must have followed my eyes, because then he stuck his finger out and POKED my belly and started chuckling! He literally stuck his finger into my fleshy stomach and laughed at me.

 

If being made fun of by a pint sized Korean muscle man doesn’t mortify you, then I don’t know what will. I finished my workout as quickly as possible and bailed. It took a week before I found the courage to return but when I did he greeted me with another friendly smile.


That time, though, I insisted on wearing my own pants and kept a hand guarding my belly at all times.

Apr 21

Lights, Camera, Action! A Korean Wedding

The vice principal of the school where I work has taken particular interest in the Native English Teachers that pass through over the years. My coteacher whispered to me that Jonathan, the last NET, was always “invited” to (read: required to attend) many of the VP’s events; and I am no exception. A few weeks ago I attended his wife’s art gallery reception (which was quite nice–they even had cheese! REAL brie cheese!) and last weekend it was his son’s wedding. To be fair, the entire school was invited and most of my coworkers attended the event on Sunday evening.

 

I was excited to be a guest at a Korean wedding and get a glimpse of a different culture’s way of tying the knot. I’m not sure what I expected–maybe some colorful hanbok dresses and traditional singing–but I certainly didn’t anticipate the theatrical production it turned out to be.

 

Envelope money donation to a Korean wedding

The envelope filled with our money donation. Can you spot the foreigner’s name?

We arrived at 4:30pm and convened in a lobby area where everyone made their donations. At Korean weddings, the guests generally don’t buy gifts and instead they donate money; my coworkers and I had agreed we would all donate W30,000 (about $30). We made our way upstairs to a foyer where the bride and groom’s parents greeted the guests. The walls were lined with a pageantry of fresh flowers that filled the air with a sweet scent.

 Flowers at a Korean wedding

After standing around for a bit, we stepped into the wedding room. It was a large banquet hall filled with round tables and chairs and lined with more flowers. A catwalk style runway divided the room and lead to a stage up front; to the right of the stage sat an orchestra, and above the stage on each side were large television screens to play video being taken by the cameramen throughout the room.

 Korean wedding

The tables were already filled when we entered, so about 50 people wound up lingering in the back of the room. Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the orchestra began to play an upbeat tune. Spotlights shined on the catwalk and danced about like it was the opening of a game show; the groom stepped up and began strutting down the runway while the audience clapped. He reached the end and began bowing and waving to everyone like a prince greeting his royal subjects.

Next, the mothers of the bride and groom strolled down the runway, dressed in traditional Korean hanboks. They did a series of bows, the audience clapped, and then the event directors ushered them off the stage.

 Mothers at a Korean wedding

The lights dimmed again and this time the bride stepped onto the catwalk. The orchestra played a more reverent tune and the blushing bride slowly glided down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. At the end she greeted her groom and they turned to face a priest.

 Korean bride

At this point the wedding would have felt relatively normal and comparable to a western wedding, but there was one noticeable difference: the entire time the bride and groom stood respectfully listening to the priest speak, a woman dressed in black and wearing a headset like a backstage manager fluffed the bride’s dress, rearranged her veil, primped her hair, and buzzed around her as if readying her for a scene on camera–not as if this were a real wedding in progress. I’m pretty sure she may have even cleaned the bride’s ears. A photographer also darted back and forth around them, sticking his lens inches from their faces and snapping photos from every possible angle.

 

Korean wedding

Note the three cameramen–there were more on the other side, too.

When the priest was done speaking, the couple turned to face the audience and the orchestra began to play a tune that must have been from a Disney movie. The bride and groom stared ahead apathetically, almost mournfully even, while the music played and played and played. Just when the song had finally ended and I hoped it would all be over and we could head off to eat, the band struck up again, this time with a singer belting a ballad reminiscent of a 90s R&B song. Again, the couple stared straight ahead.

 Korean wedding

The crowd in the back hung about, idly fanning themselves from the stuffy air and whispering about their weekends; the atmosphere was decidedly casual as the wedding proceedings took place up front. Eventually, my coworkers–the remaining ones who hadn’t already snuck out– decided it was time to go. The bride and groom had now begun the arduous process of greeting and bowing to their family and guests, and we meanwhile headed to the buffet hall where we stuffed ourselves with food and called it a day.

Korean wedding Food at a Korean wedding

I’m told that at that point the wedding ceremony actually takes a more traditional turn, and the wedded couple change into traditional Korean clothes and partake in a series of ceremonies. They must greet each of their family members with deep bows and then the parents do things like toss nuts onto the bride’s skirt in hopes that she’ll “have lots of babies”. Don’t worry, the hilarious symbolism of that isn’t lost on me.

 

Overall, the wedding was unlike any other I’ve ever experienced. Although it’s not my place to judge and every culture has their own way of doing things, I couldn’t help but wonder about the authenticity of it all. So much of the ceremony seemed contrived to create the perfect pictures and portray the perfect appearance. It was not the formal and intimate affair that many western weddings are, and to me did not seem to focus on celebrating the love of these two people. But the fact that I couldn’t understand anything being said probably affected my impression of the event and there were segments of the wedding that I wasn’t present for, so it’s not fair for me to criticize something that I don’t fully understand.

 

Regardless, it was an interesting cultural experience and I was glad to have the opportunity to be a part of it! And the food was pretty darn delicious, too.

 

Apr 16

When Tragedy Strikes at Home: An Expat’s Point of View

American Flag Child's Face

Living halfway across the world, you would think I’d feel somewhat disconnected from my country. That the happenings there would suddenly feel dim and distant, like they were no longer a reality in my own little bubble of life. To an extent, they do; since I’m not surrounded by American media, and 99% of the time I can’t understand what the people around me are saying,  the immediacy of events back home is a bit faded.

 

But with the wonders of modern technology, it is nearly impossible to be oblivious to the news in my home country. Even if my best friend hadn’t texted me about it, I couldn’t have avoided the facebook posts honoring the dead and wounded, or the #BostonMarathon tweets expressing sadness and anger over the horrific bombings. And despite living thousands of miles away, I felt the weight of the tragedy more heavily than perhaps I would have if I were home.

 

Living in another country, your identity becomes inextricably tied to your nationality, whether you like it–or realize it–or not. It’s an anomaly that I don’t think I’d fully understood until today. When abroad, you represent your country and, likewise, your country represents you. National events become a matter of pride and when your country accomplishes something great, your steps take on a triumphant air. But in the face of national tragedy, the burden becomes yours to bear, as well.

 

Reading about the bombings at the Boston Marathon this morning broke my heart. While I understand that senseless acts of murder take place across the country every day, today’s events affected me deeply because they occurred at a national event that is a celebration of hard work, perseverance, and achievement–the very qualities of which our citizens are proudest.

The fact that the bombings garnered international media coverage suddenly made me ashamed. I don’t want my country in the news for more violence; I don’t want the people of the world to think of the USA as a dangerous place, a place that can’t keep its citizens safe, a place that is so angry and torn apart that scores of innocent people are murdered on a regular basis. When I tell people I’m an American, I don’t want visions of terrorism to flash through their minds. But alas, I think it’s come to that.

 

As an expat, another challenge to experiencing a national tragedy in your homeland is the feeling of helplessness. Although I would have felt just as helpless if I were home, now I feel like I’m sitting outside a fishbowl, looking in at the turmoil from the outside, while all I can do is silently paw at the glass futilely wondering, “What can I do? How can I help?”

 

Honestly, what can we do? What can anyone do in response to such an abhorrent crime? Certainly we can’t bring back those lives lost; we can’t repair the broken sense of safety our country had been delicately piecing back together over the last 12 years; as of right now, we can’t even identify who did it or why.

 

But what I do know is we can’t continue living in anger. I will never understand how one human being can commit such a heinous act against another, but I believe it’s the result of anger. The only way I can try to eliminate the sort of rage that bubbles beneath some people’s surfaces and drives them to behave so senselessly is through kindness. No, we don’t live in a perfect world and terrible things are inevitable; but kindness quells anger and if that’s the only way I’m able to contribute to a more peaceful humanity then I’ll do what I can.

 

I’m now starting my own personal Campaign for Kindness. To my students who have particular attitude problems, I’ll strive to be less punitive and more patient. To pushy people in the streets I’ll try to be more gracious. To those who ask for help, I’ll try to be more generous. To those who irritate me, I’ll try to be more compassionate of their perspective. If I can incorporate more kindness into my actions, then perhaps it will rub off on others and inspire a chain of kindness.

 

Maybe it will even ripple all the way across the world and help inspire the peace that my home country so desperately needs.

Please, pass on the kindness.

 My heart is with you, Massachusetts.

{Photo Credit: Catholic Lane}

Apr 14

Little Moments and the Happiness of Three Dumplings

When you move to another country, your life is suddenly boiled down to the basics. You are not living the exotic and grandiose life that everyone back home thinks you are just because they saw a few smiling pictures on facebook. Everything becomes a challenge and you suddenly struggle with the simplest of tasks.

 

You find yourself helplessly wandering grocery aisles looking for the table salt because you don’t know the words to ask how to find it; you walk into a restaurant, point at an indecipherable item on the menu, nod and shrug when the waiter asks you a question, and hope that your plate doesn’t arrive with a whole octopus and a side of intestines; angry old ladies barge in your house and scream at you for reasons you will never know; you walk into stores and mime “can opener” and “plunger” and realize that your entire life has become a game of charades; you try to flush the toilet, but press the wrong button because you can’t read the buttons, and the bidet sprays all over the bathroom stall while you duck and cover. It’s true, these things all happen.

 

Everything in life has become so simplified that you feel like a child again, learning society’s fundamental survival skills. Yet in the same fashion as childhood, it is now the little things that give you the greatest sense of accomplishment. Have you ever seen a kid throw a rock, or jump, or do something so incredibly simple, but seen the look of sincere pride on their face afterward? Like, yeah, how many kids do you know that can throw a rock like that? I did that, I’m so awesome!

 

Korean mandu dumplings

That is precisely how I felt on the day I ordered three dumplings and finally received only three dumplings.  Because up until that point, every time I ordered three of something I would receive AT LEAST ELEVEN. I honestly smiled on my entire walk home, giggling to myself in glee like a madman because I only had three dumplings.

 

It was at that point that I realized that my happiness here is based entirely on a collection of little moments, scattered throughout the days and weeks. That, despite and through all the challenges and frustrations, one of these little moments of triumph can override a week of negativity.

 

Moments like when I’m teaching my class and there is a solid, though fleeting, minute of silence during which I know I have my students’ rapt attention and enthusiasm.

 

That moment when I buy strawberries from the sweet old lady on the corner and she insists on giving me a discount and a toothy grin.

 

That moment when I’m slowly sounding out a word in Korean like a 5 year old–and it suddenly clicks and I realize I know the word.

 

That moment when the special needs student stands up in class and participates with a smile, and I know that for once in his day he feels smart and included.

 

That moment when I figure out how to take the correct bus and I suddenly feel like a member of adult society.

 

That moment when I find lentils in the store and I am so unbelievably ecstatic because all I want in my life are some gosh darn whole grains and legumes.

 

That moment when I’m feeling homesick so I cook up some spaghetti, pour a glass of wine, open the window, blast some country music, and suddenly everything feels alright.

 

That moment when I’m walking down the street, staring up at the blue sky, and for no reason at all I’m struck with the feeling of happiness.


In the words of Brad Paisley in one of my all time favorite country songs…

Yeah, I live for little moments like that.”

Apr 10

Food Porn: What I’ve Been Eating in Korea

A few months ago, the only thing I knew about Korean food was kimchi. And I didn’t even really know what kimchi was, only that it was pickled and pungent and I probably wouldn’t like it. I told everyone I would lose weight easily in Korea because I just wouldn’t be eating.

How very, very wrong I was.

I’ll never forget the first few meals I ate on Korean soil. The steaming pot of savory beef rib soup that instantly cured my hangover; the first cautious bite of the mysterious vegetables and rice that spurred my love affair with bibimbap; the warm, sugary wonder of the fried pancake, hotteuk; after my first few days in Korea I realized that I was absolutely, irrevocably in love with Korean food.

Below are photos of some of the meals I’ve eaten. This is in no way a comprehensive list of Korean cuisine or even a representative sample of everything I’ve eaten; it’s simply some of the pictures I’ve managed to take of my meals, though it does include some of my favorites. Let this be the first step in motivating you to come visit me in Korea.

Stews and Soups: This includes most of my favorite dishes. Kimchi jiggae is a spicy soup with vegetables, tofu, and pork, usually served in a hot stone pot. Jimmduck is a noodle and chicken dish served in a spicy pepper sauce. One stew came with the most mouthwatering chunks of fish I have ever tasted.

Jimmduck Korean stew

Kimchi jiggae and fish stew

IMG_4654

Korean stew

 

Side Dishes: Every meal you order will automatically come with an array of side dishes. Usually in attendance are kimchi, tamuji (pickled radish), bean sprouts, peppers, dried sardines, and lettuce.

Side dishes in Korea

Side dishes in Korea

Side dishes in KoreaSide dishes in Korea

 

Street Food: One of the most amazing things about Korea is the street food. On just about every block you can buy food from a little vendor on the sidewalk. My favorites are mandu dumplings, and I have my own little vendors around the corner from my house that I patronize several times a week.
Korean mandu dumplings

Korean dumpling

Korean street food

Bibimbap: A traditional Korean meal, this dish is rice covered in vegetables and a fried egg and topped with a spicy chili paste. When served in a hot stone pot, there is something amazingly mouthwatering despite the simplicity of its ingredients.

Korean street food

Korean bibimbap

Galbi: One of the quintessential Korean meals is BBQ. Order a plate of raw meat and grill it yourself at your table. There are also restaurants that allow you to order your vegetables and meat and they stir fry in front of you in a giant pan on your table.

Korean BBQ

Korean galbi stir fry

And, of course, dumplings… I love dumplings. 

Korean dumplings

The food in Korea is simple in its ingredients, but amazingly complex in flavor. While I do find myself craving a good old fashioned salad or an enchilada once in a while, there is more than enough food to keep my mouth occupied for the next year or two. I only wish I’d taken a good enough picture of the fried cinnamon and sugar pancake to show you… but those always disappear too quickly to take a decent photo.

Have you had Korean food before? What’s your favorite dish?

 

Apr 03

12 little ways life is different in Korea

Cherry Blossoms in Korea

It’s strange how a period of time can simultaneously feel like a moment and an eternity.

 

It’s been 45 days in Korea, now. I remember the day I arrived like it was yesterday, but it feels like a year’s worth of experiences crammed in, since. I’ve been told that all expats go through “culture shock”, and that I should still be in the initial “honeymoon” phase–the period of time during which everything seems wonderful. I think I am, though I’ve started seeing signs of the following phase which is when one starts noticing and being frustrated by all the differences.

 

I’m not usually bothered by the various ways that life differs here; I tend to just shrug–or more often, laugh– it off, but I’ve certainly observed my fair share of… discrepancies.

 

In no particular order, here are some of the initial ways I’ve noticed that daily life differs in Korea from back home:

 

1) Bow: Bow to your coworkers. Bow to store employees. Bow to your friends. Bow to people on the street. When in doubt, bow. It’s not usually a full-on 90 degree angle bow (those are reserved for your elders and high ranking people) but it’s still a tip of the head and a slight bend at the waist. I am probably going to be inadvertently bowing at people for the rest of my life.

 

2) Hand money & objects with two hands: Your free hand doesn’t get to just party while the other one does all the work; it’s rude to hand something over with one hand. If you don’t use both hands to deliver the object, you must place the other hand on your stomach or forearm.

 

3) Get a boyfriend: Korean culture places a heavy emphasis on coupling up. People are often confused why I’m single. “You don’t have a boyfriend?! But, but… but WHY???” It’s as if I said I don’t like breathing oxygen. Being in a relationship seems to be the holy grail of life here– and once you’ve found your other half you should wear matching underwear and outfits and consider your life complete.

 Matching Underwear in Korea

4) Take your shoes off: I still have not quite grasped the idea of why you take your shoes off in some places and not others. You always take your shoes off in the home; you change to slip-on shoes at school; and sometimes you take your shoes off in restaurants. Luckily Korea is crazy for cute socks so there’s good incentive to toss off the shoes and show everyone your pink Hello Kitty toes.

 

5) Watch out for motorcycles: In such an incredibly law abiding country, I am baffled as to why motorcycles are apparently immune to traffic rules. They drive on the sidewalk, they blow through red lights, and they speed through the city like Hell’s Angels. Forget North Korea and impending warfare… motorcycles are the biggest hazard to my health in this country.

 

6) Hypochondria mania: Koreans are the complete opposite of North Americans when it comes to health. If you have even the slightest tickle in your throat, they immediately urge you to go to the hospital. There, you will promptly receive a shot in the butt and a pile of pills, all for the low, low price of about $12. Koreans also walk around often wearing face masks, though I haven’t quite determined if it’s what they do when they are sick, or if they are paranoid about other people’s germs. Some mysteries may never be solved.

 Sick masks in Korea

7) Corn on pizza: Whether you want it or not, you will have corn on your pizza. Just be thankful you’re even eating pizza in Asia, ok?

 

8) The word ‘maybe’ is meaningless: “Maybe you will teach this after school class” does not mean there is any doubt about whether you will actually teach it or not. They say “maybe” in just about every sentence, usually to soften an order or opinion. It can be confusing at times… so my general rule of thumb is to just ignore the word in any sentence.

 

9) Waffles Galore: An unexpected phenomenon I’ve found is that Koreans love their waffles. Waffle street food, butter waffle cookies, giant honey waffles… If you love waffles, Korea is the place to be. Bring on the Mrs Buttersworth.

 Honey waffle in Korea

10) Mirror mirror on the wall: Koreans care a great deal about their appearance and love to look at themselves in the mirror. It is not considered vain to stare at your reflection in every window you pass, and many of my students set mirrors on their desks so they can gaze at their own face during class.

 

11) Boys touching each other: Korea isn’t a haven for homosexuals, the boys just love to walk down the street holding hands with their friends. Men walk arm in arm, my boy students hold hands in class, and they are all generally touchy-feely with each other. Of course there’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s a shock coming from a culture where men are very careful not to touch each other too much, lest they appear gay.

 

12) Boobs are bad, butts are okay: The Korean dress code is the opposite of western culture; while even the slightest bit of cleavage is considered risque and completely inappropriate, they see nothing wrong with walking down the street in skirts so short their butt cheeks hang out. Sometimes I wonder if they’re even wearing pants. They also walk in insanely high heels and dress in outfits during the day that may only be worn by “ladies of the night” back home. To each their own!

 

I could go on and on about the various ways that life differs here, but much of life is also quite similar. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my travels, it’s that despite their cultural differences, humans across the globe are inherently the same. Life around the world is like pizza; it always has the same structure, but people choose to top it in their own ways.


That probably sounded a little weird, but I’m awfully hungry now. Off to lunch for kimchi and mystery meat!

Mar 14

My New Life in “Dynamic Korea”: A Photo Essay

Koreans love to use the word “dynamic” when describing their country. In fact, I think it may even be their official national tagline. While the word may be another case of poor translation (the Konglish around here is prevalent, puzzling, and hilarious), I’m pretty sure that what they’re going for is the idea that Korea is fast-paced, hectic, ever-changing, and unpredictable. And that it certainly is.

I’ve been in Korea about a month now, yet it seems like so much longer when I think of all I’ve done and the ground I’ve covered. Now I’m finally getting settled into my apartment and getting into the routine of my new job, establishing friends and local bars, and slowly wrapping my mind around the fact that I live here now.

I had wanted to go around and take fancy pictures of everything, but because this place is so “dynamic”, I haven’t had the time. So here’s some average photos that I’ve snapped here and there of my new life in Korea so far…

My School:

My Middle School in Korea

I work in low income urban middle school in Daegu. The students have a low level of English and can be pretty troublesome at times. I know I’ll find a way to get them to behave AND love English. Somehow, some way… probably including much bribery and candy.

Teaching Middle School in Korea

My classroom! I get my very own classroom! It’s a luxury apparently many Native English Teachers don’t have. That’s my fancy touch screen television up front. I feel like Vanna White pretty often.

Teaching Middle School in Korea

School Lunch in Korea

My school lunch always comes in a tray like this. Every day there is kimchi, rice, and some kind of soup. The other two dishes vary, usually one being a vegetable and the other a meat. We’ve had some chicken, fish, and pork, but also lots of octopus and pig intestines one day. I took a rain check on the intestines.

Break room in Korean school

This is the secret and magical place that I recently found out about–the female teacher’s lounge!! Beds to take a nap on “when your body condition isn’t good”, a comfy couch, and oh, why yes, that IS a FRIGGIN MASSAGE CHAIR. I guess they figure we’ll need it after being beaten up by the kids all day.

My Apartment:

My street and building in Korea

This is my alleyway and my apartment building. That’s my window on the top right!

My apartment in Korea

My cozy little studio apartment. I still need some more furniture and to decorate it obviously, but at least my bags are finally all unpacked.

My apartment in Korea

In the bathroom, you’ll note there is no shower… Above the sink is the shower nozzle. Just turn it on and go to town! In Asia they use “wet bathrooms”, which means the floor has a drain and you just shower in the room. It’s very inconvenient in case you forget to put away your toilet paper or makeup, and then your bathroom is soaking wet for hours afterward. Also, I have a washer–which is nice–but no dryer–which is not so nice. Hang drying all your clothes in the cold winter is an art I’ve yet to master.

My apartment in Korea

There’s my TV that only has two buttons on it; sometimes they change the channel, and sometimes they change the volume. But 90% of the time they only turn the volume up… So I can’t watch my TV presently because the volume is set to full blast and it’s stuck on a Korean infomercial channel. How ideal.

Dinner in my apartment in Korea

What most of my meals at home look like: ramen with egg, and occasionally a vegetable. I’m gourmet, I know.

 

My Neighborhood:

Market next to my house in Korea

My alleyway opens up into an outdoor market with a wealth of amazing street food, fruit and vegetable vendors, and shops that sell everything I could possibly need–including the new staple of my diet, hotteuks: a fried pancake filled with melted sugar and cinnamon. And I wonder why Korea is making me fat.

Market next to my house in Korea

Another market a few blocks from my house.

Street near my house in Korea

The main street that I cross every day to get to school. I leave my apartment, pass through the market, cross this street, and voila! I arrive at school!

Market near my house in KoreaMarket near my house in KoreaMy favorite dumpling place near my houseMandu dumplings in KoreaA few days ago I went exploring and came across these amazing dumplings near my house… $2 for 3 giant mandu dumplings, freshly hand rolled and steamed and served from a smiling old Korean man and his friendly wife. Amazing. Eating hotteuk in my neighborhood market

Tonight a few friends came for a visit and we explored the market, eating dumplings and hotteuks. Aside from my pants starting to feel a little tight, Korea has treated me well so far. I think I’ll do a little food porn post soon to show you all the incredible food I’ve been stuffing my face with… Though I might be on a diet by then.

 

Mar 04

Day One on the Job in Korea: Diary Style

My computer, my classroom key, and my class schedule

My computer, my classroom key, and my class schedule

Stayed up most of the night preparing my powerpoint presentation for the first class lesson. Walked to school and genuinely hoped I wouldn’t poop my pants in nervousness. Had a morning assembly where the teachers walked on stage and were introduced—I didn’t recognize when they said my name, so someone had to tell me I was being announced. The Vice Principal said something and the students all laughed—then he said I was from Santa Barbara and they all said “WOW” and cheered. I somehow doubt they’ve ever heard of Santa Barbara.

My powerpoint wouldn’t work and I freaked out. As I walked through the halls the students shouted at me, “HI TEACHER” and “NICE TO MEET YOU”. One of my coteachers said it was also her first day at the school and she had heard that the students were very naughty and rude. Only she mixed up her R’s and L’s as Koreans tend to do, so she said repeatedly, “The students are so lude. Lude! We have lude students!” I tried not to giggle.

Finally got my powerpoint to work five minutes before class started. Ran down to the faculty room to grab something and was told I wasn’t actually teaching class today, after all. Oh, Korea.

Then it was lunchtime, and we ate school lunch in the teacher lunch room. It’s still weird to be on the “teacher” side of things and hang out in “teacher rooms”. I filled a section of my plate with a pile of noodles with black peppercorns. Only, when I lifted the spoon to my mouth, I realized they weren’t noodles at all—they were, in fact, hundreds of tiny fish, and the black dots were their little eyes staring up at me.

Afterward, my coteacher and I went to the immigration office to apply for my Alien Residency Card. When I got home, I went straight to bed and passed out for two hours. Woke up, made some broccoli and noodles, and headed to the coffee shop for internet.

And that, my friends, was my first day on the job in Korea.

Tomorrow I’m actually teaching class and I am moderately terrified…

Feb 28

Day One of Living in Korea

Snowflakes & hamboks in Korea

I know many of you think I moved to Korea a couple of weeks ago, but that’s not entirely true.

You see, two weeks ago I landed in Korea. I stayed in Seoul where I spent the first five days in a hostel with 25 other English teachers, exploring the city and having a grand ole party of a time.

Next, the government organization that hired us, EPIK, picked up all the teachers and bussed them to an orientation site where we lived in a dorm for a week, went to classes 12 hours a day, and ate cafeteria food for every meal. It was all very fun—and very easy.

Then, shit got real, yo.

Yesterday, after only a few hours of sleep, we were sent to our new cities. In a small auditorium they announced each of our names and our new coteachers walked up to “claim” us. One by one, our cozy group of English speaking friends dissipated in a nervous frenzy of “Nice to meet you”’s and we were taken to see our schools, meet our new colleagues, get settled in our new apartments, and start our new life.

Yesterday was the day I found out that I will be teaching in a low income urban middle school where the students are so troublesome that my new principal is worried about my survival. Yesterday was the day I got the keys to my small studio apartment with a funny smell and no furniture. Yesterday was the day that I finally broke down and cried, staring in the mirror asking myself what in the hell am I doing here. Yesterday was the day I realized how difficult the little every day tasks like ordering food and finding my way around will be.

Yesterday was the day I officially moved to Korea.

Yesterday was also the day that I picked myself up off the tear-soaked heated floor and forced myself to walk down the street. I found some food, sat in a coffee shop to use the internet, and then met up with some fellow teachers who have lived here for over a year.

I met the English teacher at the elementary school that feeds into my middle school and she confirmed that, indeed, I now work at quite possibly the toughest middle school in the entire city of 4 million people. But the teachers I met were overwhelmingly kind, taking me under their wing and offering me as much advice and knowledge as the night would allow on how to teach and survive in Korea. I left feeling bolstered that despite the cards I’ve been dealt, I have an amazing network of supportive people who will become my friends—even my family—as we maneuver our way through this adventure together.

I came to Korea because I wanted a challenge. While this isn’t exactly what I had in mind, deep down I always knew I wouldn’t be the person to land one of those cushy jobs and a fancy two bedroom apartment. I’ve just never had that kind of luck. But the universe has a way of putting you right where you need to be, and I have a strange little inkling that I’m going to make it through this challenge. And if I can survive this next year without being eaten alive by my students, then I’m fairly certain I can make it through just about anything.

Feb 21

Seoul Delicious: My First Impressions of South Korea

Photos of getting to KoreaMy bags were too full, so to get through security I had to wear several jackets and stuff pants and shirts into all my pockets. At the Korean airport, my overweight suitcases spilled off my cart into the middle of a crowded walkway and people stepped over me with wayward glances. When the bus dropped me off on the dark, snow-covered street corner, I was helplessly lost until several drunk, hiccupping, middle aged Koreans carrying ski poles stumbled their way through the alleyways and led me to my hostel.

Basically, I was a hot mess. But I had made it to Korea.

The next few days were a blur of new friends, new food, new customs, and walking. By God, did we walk.

Walking in Seoul

Life in Korea

We walked to Insadong, an area that sells traditional Korean crafts and other fun items; we strolled through Myongdong, the outdoor shopping district, and popped into a cat café(!); we wandered through the traditional market in our neighborhood of Dongdaemun where they sell delicious snacks like chicken feet and silk worms; we walked up and down the avenues in search of the best street food.

Stream in Seoul, Korea

Touring SeoulI thought we had walked just about everywhere in Seoul when we climbed the mountain up to the Namsam Tower. But when we took an elevator to the top and looked out the 360 degree windows, I realized how wrong I was. The city stretched out in every direction as far as the eye can see; rolling hills and a few large rocks jutted up between a sea of skyscrapers and clustered buildings. It was overwhelming to realize just how large a city can really be—and how insignificant one person is in the midst of it all.

Seoul Tower

On the way to Seoul TowerTo refuel from all the walking, I tried a variety of Korean food and am surprised at how much I have fallen in love with it all. I honestly have not disliked a thing I’ve tried and every meal seems more delicious than the last. Between BBQ, bibimbap (rice and veggie bowls), a variety of meat and kimchi soups, dumplings, and the street food (oh my god—the street food), I have certainly not gone hungry.

food1

Today we said goodbye to Seoul and hopped on a bus to Daejon, another city a few hours south, for orientation. The next seven days will be a whirlwind of lectures, practice teaching, learning Korean, and the occasional taekwando class.

So far, it’s been a blast. Between the sightseeing, partying til 7am, and making lots of new friends, it’s seemed more like a vacation and the reality that I live here—a country across the world—hasn’t entirely settled in, yet. I think that part will come when I arrive at my apartment and I’m suddenly alone and aware that this is my home for the next year.

EPIK Ninjas

Until then, I’m soaking up all the fun and exciting new experiences and slowly acquiring a taste for kimchi.

I think I’m going to like this place. :)

View of Seoul

Feb 12

Near death, new life, and getting ready for Korea

White camellia flower

Last week, my step brother died. It’s a fact he was excited to hear about.

 

***

When it happened, I was sitting at my parents’ kitchen table with my head in my hands, trying to digest the events of the last few days. Vignetted memories surged through my mind of the smiles, the laughs, the hugs, the tears from my going away party; of delicately peeling the stenciled decorative letters off my walls that declared “Live, Laugh, Love” and packing my life into a few plastic bins; of driving out of Santa Barbara and up the familiar coastline with a haze over the deep blue horizon that matched the fog in my head. I tried to cry, but I couldn’t.

I hadn’t been able to cry since that strange moment during my last day of work.

My coworkers–who apparently have paid attention to me all these years–could not have thrown me a more appropriately themed party, and so we had a room full of cupcakes and champagne. Champagne! At work! I should go away more often! I’d say I’d never before drank at the office but that would be a lie, since there was that one time I brought a half gallon of my home brew to share with my coworkers– except no one decided to show up that day, so I proceeded to sit at my desk and drink it myself… But I digress.

(Obviously), I fully imbibed in all the party’s treats and after a while I stumbled stepped into the courtyard with a sugar high and a champagne buzz. En route to the ladies room, I passed the same rose bush that gave me a bit of an epiphany before and now I swear that there is some sort of vortex in the universe that triggers profound realizations about life in that courtyard, because it happened again.

This time, it was a camellia tree.

While walking, a wilted flower bud dropped from the tree and landed in front of my feet, stopping me dead in my tracks. For reasons I can’t explain (okay, the champagne may have had something to do with it), I stood there, silently gaping at the delicate pink petals on the ground before me and it occurred to me how very symbolic it was. My last day of work was the end of a chapter, the closing of a season; much like this flower, a beautiful part of life had run its course and was making room for new growth. It is a natural part of life, and new blooms will inevitably grow, so there is no need for sadness. I was overwhelmed by the significance of it all.

Really, though, who gets drunk and somehow finds metaphorical significance in a plant? I will never understand how my own brain works. Regardless, it implanted (pun intended- ha!) in me a seed of confidence, and reassured me that I’m doing the right thing. I suddenly experienced a sensation of peace and the corners of my lips turned up into a contented smile. Thank you, universe, for giving me the sign I needed.

 

***

And so, as I sat at the wooden table letting the thoughts and emotions of recent events wash over me, I received the phone call that Seth had had complications during his heart surgery. Something had gone wrong; his heart had bled out and stopped, and he was technically dead for nearly an hour as they hand pumped his heart and attempted to resuscitate him. As he remained in critical condition in the ICU we feared the worst, and the following days became a blur of green hospital scrubs, breathing tubes, beeping machines, and strained faces. Slowly but surely, though, he came out of it and is now in recovery mode.

He has no memory of the entire incident and recently asked his mom, “Did I die?”

She tearfully replied, “Well, yes…” and his immediate response was, “YESSSS!”

Because now a whole host of zombie jokes are his for the taking and he can brag to people he is so powerful that he came back from the dead…  I can’t blame him, that’s some good material. Yet I can’t help but think that his life is going to be different now. Nobody can go through an ordeal like that and not acquire a new perspective on life. Whether he knows it, likes it, wants it or not, his life has been forever altered and he is now entering a new chapter of life.

Meanwhile, my other step brother’s wife had a baby last weekend, and my little sister celebrated her birthday. All of us within our little family are experiencing new beginnings in varying forms, and it is a reminder of the beauty, challenges, and perpetual forward flow of life in all its inevitability.

The last week was not quite what I had envisioned for my final stay in the country; I’d hoped for long, relaxing days spent reading in the California sunshine and drinking wine with family by the evening fireside. But perhaps, on top of everything else, this experience has served to reinforce the concept that I cannot count on life to go how I’ve expected. If I’ve learned nothing else in the last year and a half, at least I have come to understand that life rarely goes according to plan and I must be flexible in accepting the situations that face me.

Now, more than ever, I am ready for Korea.

Special Note: Please donate blood. The units of blood they pumped into my step brother’s veins while his heart was stopped helped to save his life. I’m not a huge fan of needles, but I’ve now seen firsthand the difference some of my blood can make. Want to be a hero? It doesn’t take much. Please go to United Blood Services and find out how you can donate blood to save a life.

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