Foiled Again

It was an inspirational plan. Take the school laptop home and plug it into the internet cable. Email, Facebook, and blog freely. Catch up on everything. Catch family members online. No dice, though. I don’t know whether the internet in my room is bad, or if there’s some computer voodoo I don’t know about to make it work, but my page cannot be displayed. :( I’m going to start just emailing blog entries to people and uploading photos to my work computer. And I’m really eager to start Skyping. I’ve worked out a phone schedule for everyone; getting a phone is the only missing piece.

It’s interesting that I come home less tired on the days I do 12 hours. I think it has something to do with feeling efficacious—the long days are the ones where I actually teach something, so I’m not just numb by the time I leave. That may change this week...we’ll see how I feel after teaching 8 classes in a day. The pay is great, though, which will help a lot, and we get dinner gratis. My goal for the year is to get through a Korean meal without streaming nose and burning tongue, but it’s early yet. The cafeteria meals have not been entirely veggie-unfriendly, and usually just when I’m despairing of having a good meal, they surprise me with something like fruit salad or fresh cherry tomatoes. 5 Korean lunches and 2 Korean dinners each week also ensure that I’m not missing any cultural experience when I cook pasta or burritos for myself. Given the yumminess and affordability of bibimbap and that rice roll thing whose name I forgot (something else –bap), I’ll be doing Korean on my own, too, especially since there’s a bap shop (they rhyme) on the ground floor of my building. I can’t remember what I said in my last blog (can’t look at it, either), but while I have to walk up 4 flights of stairs to my apartment, I’m just glad not to be on the 25th floor of one of those featureless high-rises Seoul is famous for.

I’ve been collecting observations about differences between Korean and American culture—I’ve probably forgotten as many as I’ve written down, but here’s a first list (there will be many more, I’m sure):
At School:--the kids are really friendly. They don’t behave themselves any more than Americans, but they’re much more cheerful about it
--outside all the schools I’ve seen is a sign (like our Drug Free School Zone ones) proclaiming it a green food zone. No clue.
--for all Koreans’ reputation of being hardcore on education (and it does manifest in other ways), the schedule would give American hardliners apoplexy. The school day consists of only 6 45-minute periods, with an hour for lunch and 10 minutes break between each class.
--at my school, the teachers don’t keep the same classroom. It’s a pain in the ass. They usually walk in after the bell, too. It’s a weird kind of relaxed.
--all the teachers carry a stick. Some use it just as a pointer or to make noise, but I have also witnessed a caning line-up.
--students have their names sewn above their pockets, like Army recruits. Unfortunately, I can’t read fast enough for it to help.
--the kids clean the teachers’ office every day after school (albeit perfunctorily)
--the first time I used the bathroom, I couldn’t find any tp. My co-teacher explained that in the temporary building (the English dept is there while a new school is being built), teachers & students have to share a bathroom, so we have to carry the roll in from our office. I don’t know what the students are expected to do.
--and, on a fun note, the kids have learned what WTF stands for. I’ve seen it written out on desks, and listened to a group of girls volley the phrase around while they worked with their teacher on a project. It attracts no more attention than an American saying “merde” or “bloody” at school.

Korea in general:
--the compactness of Hangeul means that signature spaces are impossibly tiny. Plus, there’s no printing/cursive distinction, so you have to figure out what’s called for when filling out forms. “Signature” just means write your name.
--Koreans write the date American, rather than European, style, but the year goes first.
--their t-shirts are really nice! I was given shirts by both my recruiter and SMOE, and they’re thick and soft. SMOE only had sizes XL, XXL, and XXXL for us, which caused some dismay until we realized they will in fact fit.
--navigating the streets & sidewalks is like a cheerful video game. Bikes & motorcycles ride on the sidewalk most of the time, and both they and cars will honk a quick note at whoever’s in their way. Honking is not an invitation to a pissing contest, but a request that’s generally complied with.
--Koreans love little ditties. At school, instead of bells, electronic musical phrases signal the end of class. My door plays a few notes every time it locks. The washing machine sings an entire tune when the cycle is finished. On the subway, they play a few bars of classical music to signal an upcoming stop. We’ll see if it makes me insane by the end of the year.
--Koreans don’t remove those blue foam chunks that manufacturers put on car doors. It also appears they leave the UPC sticker on the car, although maybe this is some kind of registration thing.
--Koreans don’t appear to dry their hands after washing. I’ve yet to see a stocked paper towel dispenser, and no one seems fussed by this. Most of the teachers brush their teeth after lunch.
--Drinking anything with a meal is not traditionally done, although in restaurants, they do bring you a Rubbermaid container of water (a custom I wish Americans would adopt). What you see a lot of is filtered water dispensers, often with a sterilization cabinet full of little stainless steel cups. For all of you who’ve laughed at the size of my juice glasses, you’d really get a bang out of these.
--While I don’t really like kimchi (the smell reminds me of a diaper pail), I can understand how others might, and I’m eating one piece at each meal in an attempt to follow suit. What I don’t get is Korean “dessert”: it appears to be the dregs from the rice cooker, floating in cloudy water. Maybe it began as a practicality and people just got used to eating it after meals. I just can’t fathom the appeal. I keep a bag of dried fruit at my desk to satisfy my sweet tooth after meals and soothe my smoldering tongue.

And a characteristic that merits its own category...butchered English. There is English writing on everything—restaurants, wastebaskets, t-shirts, silverware, you name it—and a lot of it is comically stilted or nonsensical. I think one of these items will be the treasured souvenir of my time here; I’ll have to choose carefully among the multitude of options. A couple favorites:
--the planter that says “Love House”
--a t-shirt proclaiming “Revolrution American Style”
--an anecdote from one of my veteran teacher friends: for an assignment asking students who they would pick if they could meet anyone, living or dead... “If I could meet anyone living or dead, I would choose to meet them living”

I hope to be able to post pictures soon...it’s been way too long, and there are lots to share. Another casualty of the internet snafu. Someday, this will just be a blip on the radar. It’d better be.