Oh yeah...

http://www.shipsanddip.com/

This is a regular cruise I've been wanting to go on for a few years. It's hosted by the Barenaked Ladies, and features Great Big Sea and a bunch of other cool bands. Last year, one of the Ladies' lead singers left the band, and there was no cruise. I figured that was it; an opportunity blown. But it's back, I'm coming back, and I AM going.

Trouble is, unlike trundling about Newfoundland or jetting off to Cambodia, you can't just go. You have to buy a whole cabin on the cruise ship. So if none of your friends are interested/available, you're SOL. Which I will NOT let happen.

So, if you know a person or two, trustworthy and not TOO unpleasant, who might like to take a short cruise (just long enough to enjoy; not long enough to get sick of it) with some awesome bands, please please please send them my way.

Ports of call this year are Costa Maya and Belize, another reason I'm hellbent on making it happen this year. The last time, they went to the cruise company's private island--super lame, and something I don't want to take a chance on again.

So, again, seriously...your cousin, your grandma, your neighbor's daughter's boyfriend's Roman History professor...I don't really care. I want to set sail with 'em.

The State of Things

My last weekend in Seoul is ending. It's been another in a long string of Silent Sundays--days when I talk to no one but for a couple of "kamsamnida"s to store clerks. I'm not sorry it's the last.

I've been packing and prepping for about 2 weeks now, but nothing felt particularly different. Personal effects have been disappearing from my apartment and desk at school, my wardrobe has been shrinking, and I've said good bye to a couple friends, all without having any real sense of impending change. This morning, though, I took all the postcards down from my door, and now the place feels officially barren.

5 more days in Seoul. I literally can't believe it.

Not that my apartment is empty, not by any stretch. I've mailed several boxes home, and my suitcases are all bulging, but somehow the effect is to make the room ridiculously cluttered. Where did it all come from??? And, of course, I've been out buying more. If I bring back nothing from Hong Kong, that'll be ideal. I can't really think of anything it's famous for, so hopefully that means I won't feel compelled to have some tangible representation.

Perhaps, too, the busy-ness is keeping me from fully appreciating that the end is near. I've been trolling university websites since May, looking for jobs I might start when I get back. There's been no response from any of them, and I'd just resigned myself to waiting 'til I'm home to look in earnest when THE job, the one I've been using as an example of my perfect situation, was posted: International Student Counselor at the UofR. I plied my connections, got my cover letter done, tweaked my resume...but they have one of those websites where you have to fill in all the information like a Burger King application, so that still awaits. Plus, Nazareth and Keuka have openings for admissions counselors, and that's not to mention the lesson plans I still have to make for my last week of camp, the emails I owe people, the confirmations for my trip next week (and for my flight home, now that I think of it), boxes to mail, cleaning, Gulliver's Travels to finish (what a slog!), my phone to cancel... And oh yeah, I need to set up voice mail on my home phone in case anyone should actually call about aforementioned jobs. It's gonna be a busy week! So, yeah, I'm blogging.

I turned on the air conditioner in my apartment Friday night. It was the first time, with the exception of once when my friends were over. Apparently, 7 weeks is my limit for 86 degrees and 96% humidity. I've never found the idea of living in the tropics particularly appealing, but now I know I couldn't. I love hot weather, but I love variety just as much. Needing a jacket at night sometimes is kind of nice. Trouble is, now I'm getting addicted to being dry, and even more so to the quiet. Ideologically, I think it's better if we do without A/C where possible (as my own quick addiction demonstrates), but emotionally, my biggest beef with air conditioners is being cut off from the world outside. I love the moving air, the sound of the trees, the hum of life going on on the street. I love that sometimes it's sticky and sometimes it's chilly and sometimes the rain mists in. In Seoul, though, I don't love the construction, the shouting, the hacking, the horns, the motorcycles, the clanging metal posts, the truck PAs, and so on. Having had one quiet night, I find myself rationalizing another and another, despite temperatures having dropped a couple of degrees to within tolerable. I knew this might happen. But with only 5 days left, who cares? Now if the person in the parking lot outside would just realize that if the car hasn't started after 15 minutes of cranking, it's not going to...

I do have my notes from Japan, and I do intend to post a bit about it. I have a post about Asian vs. Western education that's been kicking around in my head for a while, too. Watch this space. Nothing may in fact happen, but you never know.

Whoa! Check it Out!

Hello? Anyone still checking this blog? Hi Mom, Hi Dad, Hi one random other person I wouldn't suspect. My favorite blogger just resumed posting after a month's hiatus, and has inspired me to try it also.

I'm over my depression, but the urge to write still eludes me. I just don't feel like talking about Korea any more. I had my final to-do list of stuff to get to before I go, and I'm finding now that I don't care if I do it or not. And I say that without drama or Eeyorishness. I'm just done here. I'm satisfied. I feel like it's complete. (or been complited, as the transit card machines would say)

It's occurred to me to blog many times over the last couple of months. I went to a baseball game in May. That was especially fascinating for its platform of comparison. I actually choked up as they started playing and I realized I knew what was going on. It was amazing. I had a whole list of things to talk about surrounding baseball. The main snack is dried squid, which can be in little pieces, or it can be a 3' long, completely flat and foul-smelling thing. How do you carry one of those around? Fans were more involved than they get in the US, and cheerleaders for both teams were present, dancing throughout the game (though there is NO 7th-inning stretch). The most diverting habit is that of the Lotte Giants fans (all teams are named for the corporations that own them, plus an American sports team name--the rendering of "Twins" is amusing), who blow up yellow plastic bags, twist them off, and hook the handles around their ears. They look like low-budget cheeseheads. The game I went to was really exciting--the first batter up hit a home run--and I've been trying to get to another one, but have failed to appease the rain gods. We'll see.

In June, I went to Lotte World, Korea's answer (perhaps I should say "echo") to Disneyland. Of course, the climate here is more like Cleveland than California, so half the park is inside. Swinging on a pirate ship ride toward hotel room windows is odd. Lotte World's use of space is incredible. The whole park is nestled right in the middle of the city, and you wouldn't particularly notice it. It takes up less space than your average mall parking lot, but has enough attractions to easily fill a day and more. And the rides were FANTASTIC. Some were such blatant Disney knockoffs it was almost comforting, while others were unlike any I've ever been on. Our favorite was Atlantis, a roller coaster where the cars are like sitting on a motorcycle; I both feared and loved another one where we sat at the bottom of a huge pendulum simultaneously spinning and swinging (and our chicken friends waiting on the other side knew when we were getting on the ride because the safety announcement was suddenly in English); and I tried the Gyro drop, which swirls you up a massive pole, feet dangling, before bringing you down via free fall. A really fun day, lots of great Konglish, and probably worth its own post.

And then, amid a lot of other things probably worth mentioning, there's today--the last day of classes! I never have to teach again and I'm going to Japan tomorrow. No comprende. Actually, there is camp yet, and I really don't envision a life without teaching at all, but it still is a momentous day. I will actually miss the kids. For the most part, I won't miss trying to control them and impart information, but I will miss seeing them, being greeted in the halls, joking around with them, and hearing all the wonderful things they come up with to say. I love these kids, especially the 3rd graders, whom I've taught all year, and it's poignant to think that they're just going to disappear from my life (or I from theirs, as the case may be).

So for the next 3 weeks, I'll be teaching half days and half classes, with no co-teacher. Since I know what I'm getting into this time (as compared to winter break), I'm crossing my fingers for smooth sailing. 3 weeks (technically 5 'til I leave, but I've got some vacation time) is ample opportunity for more surprises and snubs, but I'm really almost done! And...I don't have to eat school cafeteria food any more!!! That alone is worth a party. If I could go back in time, I'd visit my elementary school cafeteria and tell my 8-year-old self to enjoy it while I could--I'd later find out how much worse it can get.

Headed to Tokyo for 4 days...I promise to think about blogging something.

Do you know World Cup?

You may not realize that the World Cup tournament is currently going on in South Africa. It's like the Olympics, but without the American media. Or like the rest of the world's Super Bowl. (do I have to pay royalties to write that?) Korea's in it, and...gosh, it's hard to even mention sports without immediately sinking into a morass of cliches. World Cup fever is sweeping the nation. It means so much to this tiny country. You just can't help but get caught up in it!

Actually, that last sentence was quite literally true last night. I went with a couple of friends to City Hall Plaza, one of many sites where the game was being screened. You could tell when you were getting close because vendors of light-up devil horns started to blend together, and the line at KFC could kill your appetite if the chicken didn't. I was sorely tempted to buy a "We're 12th Player" t-shirt, but if I wore it to a Bills game, I'd just look retarded. Convenience stores had iced beer at the front door in a very efficient form of crowd control, and squid and pre-cut fruit were in abundance.

We showed up just in time for kickoff, so were relegated to the back of the crowd...fine, because the claustrophobia was intense. There were no chairs, but everyone spontaneously decided to sit down, so we all plonked down, Indian-style or criss-cross-applesauce (depending on when you grew up), right there in the street. Made me nostalgic for elementary-school assemblies. The great thing about elementary school was that you could sit there on the gym floor and watch the proceedings unaccosted, without anyone resting their leg against your back (come on people, it's 89 degrees; if you wanted to cuddle, why didn't you say so when I was hypothermic on New Year's Eve?), whacking you in the head with rigid handbags (no matter how many times you shoved the thing away), or dong-chimming you with their hooker heels (I was fortunate to be in the last row of people sitting, with the usual pushing & stiff-arming going on at my back). One couple kept letting their little flag hang in my sightline so it perfectly obscured the screen; at least I wasn't the guy 2 rows ahead who sat impassively as it covered his face time and time again. A sudden wet spot on my head turned out to be merely a passing water bottle fresh out of a cooler. I was more concerned with where the loogies were going. And God forbid someone should feel sick...the plaza was acres of devil horns with no space in between; anyone who needed to make a quick getaway simply couldn't. I lasted through the entire first half, not minding my sleeping leg so much, but in increasing agony over my jackknifed back. Finally, Korea scored as the first half died; everyone stood up to cheer, then forgot that they were ever sitting.

Just like at the baseball game I never blogged about, the Koreans expressed their enthusiasm by banging inflatable plastic tubes together, and spontaneously bursting into songs...all of which have familiar tunes, and, for that matter, familiar lyrics, since I've heard the word "Korea" before. Bet you didn't know that "Dae han min guk gloria" were the words to Beethoven's 9th.

Ultimately, they lost (to Argentina, who one of my kids told me is going to win the Cup), but we had long since started wandering the city, stopping to check in at every screen along the sidewalk, musing at the knot of people around a tiny tv in the subway station. It was a fabulous night to be outside, and I'm glad to be spending the World Cup where people care (I have a knack for this; I was in England for the festivities in '98, and even caught a good deal of the action in '06 by nannying for a soccer-crazed 11-year-old).

I skipped out on the first game, where Korea beat Greece, because it was cold and raining, but I could hear the elated screaming and the celebratory vomiting from my apartment. There's one more guaranteed game, but it's in the wee hours, so that'll be it for me unless Korea advances (which they could). Crap, it just occurred to me I'll probably still hear the screaming and vomiting for the wee hours game. Lifelong memories, these.

Why Johnny Can't Blog

I've been gone for over a year now. I think I can readily say that it's been the most difficult year of my life. I've been looking back at some of my posts from Colorado, and I'm surprised at how chipper they seem. Things had already gotten trying by this time last June, but I was excited about Korea, hopeful about how the summer might still play out, and curious about everything. Now I'm just tired. I've been needled frequently about posting more often, and I've truly meant to. There's a roster of things to talk about in my calendar, and 'blog' is on every to-do list I've made for months. I want to do it, want to keep a record and share all these observations I'm still making. But most of the time, I just don't have the heart to write.

This is what defeat feels like. Last week, as I ran dialogues with every kid I teach, was the final (or not...there always seems to be more shit, no matter how much you've waded through already) proof that what I'm doing here is futile, and my approach to it pitifully ineffectual. Very, very few of the kids understand anything I say. Even fewer care. Most of my co-teachers are desperately overworked and down to their last nerve, and I'm just one more mosquito in their ear. As I've known with quiet certainty for 11 years now, I'm not a classroom teacher. "If you're neither learning nor contributing, use your two feet and move on." But I can't yet. Not for 9 weeks. (10 if they screw with my vacation, which is always a distinct possibility in Korea)

So there's nothing else for it but to show up every day and make a game attempt, although I'm losing my spirit for that, too. Some days are not so bad, some are. Most classes consist of 2-3 kids who are listening and reacting, 4 or 5 who are mocking and cutting up, 6 or 7 who are sleeping, and 15 or so who are chatting with their friends. It's not rewarding work.

Funny thing is, I still want to work with kids. Just not in a classroom. This is really not my scene. And not in a place where everything happens TO me. I'm looking forward to being an agent in my own life again.

So in the swirl of weariness, frustration, humiliation, and resentment, I don't have many words. I'd envisioned writing letters and postcards, talking about more than 'What I Did Last Weekend', keeping a second blog that would be worthy of touting to schools, answering emails that I get... I'd envisioned feeling really enthusiastic & alive, adventurous and fulfilled. Gifts don't always come in the box we expected. One of my mantras during the last year has been, "Even if you hate it, it'll be one of the most important experiences of your life." And I don't HATE it. Not usually. But it has been a critically important experience, and I'm not at all sorry I've done any of it. I wish I was a better teacher, I wish it was over just a little bit sooner, but none of that is going to burn forever. I've taken the measure of myself, and it's not as flattering as I would have fancied. I feel that I'm at the crest of a mountain, and something new and pretty amazing is about to open up in front of me. If I can just hold myself together until it does...

"Come and play with us, Danny"

I'm not at school today because it's Election Day, and for that I am intensely grateful. I'm less grateful for the sensory onslaught that is Korean campaigning, although, to beat this theme to a pulp, I'm grateful for the chance to see it, and also that it doesn't last anywhere near as long as it does in the US.

I believe I heard that there's only an Election Day every 4 years (though the presidential term is 5 and they're not voting on him--that must be a different thing), so I'm lucky to be here in an 'on' year. From what I can tell, the election is for every office other than president...city, district, local...provincial? (not being able to read more than the names on the signs, I'm a bit underinformed)

Whether the start date is by decree, I don't know, but there was a big bang and suddenly campaigning was everywhere, comprised (whether in Gyeongju, Cheongju, or Seoul) of 3 main components:

1. Posters and banners. The banners are strung up between posts at every intersection, and the posters line every wall, one bordering the next in a tight collage that echoes the people themselves. A patchwork picturing candidates in various "action" poses...brandishing a pen, making an 'open arms' gesture, beckoning the viewer...reminiscent of the cloying head shots Newsweek adopted for its columnists a few years back. My EEP students last week were doing creative writing, about what they would do if they were invisible, and one boy (who I really have always liked) finished with, "and I use a scissors and cut election announcement paper. Because they have so many space. Also they look like dirty things."

2. Loudspeakers on trucks. Usually the domain of fruit vendors and religious proselytizers, these have all been co-opted by the candidates, the volume cranked to 11, and set to roam the streets blasting songs with tunes like 'Mary had a little lamb' and 'If you're happy and you know it', with new lyrics presumably detailing the person's fitness for office. These are catchy enough that I've accidentally learned a few of the candidates' names. I must have spent a bit of karma because none of them have parked outside my window, a miserable fate that elicits my profound sympathy for anyone it was visited upon. (the aforementioned student also planned to take advantage of his invisibility to "use a needle and prick wheel of election campaign cars. Because they are so noisy." Good kid.)

3. Dancing ajummas. An ajumma, for those of you who haven't heard me use the term, is a lady somewhere between middle age and dotage. They're iconic in Korea, known for attitudes worthy of a DeNiro movie, clothes with lively patterns, and a vampirish aversion to sun. And for wages that could never possibly be enough, they've been donning sashes and white gloves and dancing for hours on street corners. If it rains, they throw clear plastic ponchos over the getup and keep at it. Strangely, my neighborhood hasn't gone in much for the dancing, preferring instead an eerie chanting (inspiring the title of this post). Several packs of them stand at the subway station entrance droning couplets at 5-second intervals (rhyming in Korean is easy because every sentence ends with "ib ni da" or some variation). There's one candidate who has braces and employs not ajummas, but young people who hold his picture over their faces and talk on cell phones behind it. Going to the subway is creepy enough, but the lot that station themselves across the street from my apartment could drive me to distraction. I look forward to abandoning the ritual of getting up at 6 to close the window.

100!

Sorry for the long lapse...my muse died.

I've actually been in a better frame of mind for the last week, but I ran off to Gyeongju for the holiday weekend (the holiday being Buddha's Birthday), and now have family in town (!), so the time to sit in my apartment and bear a blog hasn't been available. So, my apologies if you're disappointed, but you'll have to wait a bit longer for a "real" entry.

I do need to mark the occasion, though. The name of this blog refers to the 500 nights from the time I last slept in my own bed until I return to it. As it turns out, the whole thing will only be in the ballpark of 460 nights, give or take a bed, since my original plan to backpack around southeast Asia has long since revealed itself to be folly, but nonetheless, as of today, May 27, there are 100 nights left!

88 til I'm again on American soil, 98 til my first night in Rochester, and 100 until I sink into my own soft mattress for the first time in way too long. Still seems interminable, but at least it's starting to feel like it'll really happen one day.

So stay tuned; I'll be back...

15 and Really Counting

I bought my plane ticket home last night! I feel excited, like I should do something to mark the occasion, and yet, unlike my vacation visit, this has been on the calendar all along, so there's not a whole lot to do about it. I arrive in Seattle the night of August 23, and what I anticipate now is spending a couple of days there to get my feet under me (and maybe see Vancouver?), then road tripping home. I want to go to North Dakota, since I haven't before; want to spend nights in Spokane and Helena because I liked them when I passed through last August; want to walk through the rumored-to-be-lovely old neighborhoods of St. Paul; and my target date for returning to Rochester is September 2. We'll see what happens when Great Big Sea's tour schedule comes out.

I've been a bit of a deadbeat blogger again lately... Partly life has been rather busy, and partly I've been in a royal funk and uninspired to write, and partly the longer I'm here, the less I come across that's new and noteworthy (although that last one is a small part--I've hit on the major cultural curiosities, but my pocket notebook will attest that there is still much to comment about). My latest musing is why Korean blind people keep their eyes closed. When a cartoon in my 4th-grade reader depicted Helen Keller with her eyes closed, I figured the illustrators must be stupid. Perhaps they were instead Korean, having no reason to suspect that blind people ever open their eyes.

School has been stressful and discouraging of late. We had exams last week, and, having grown accustomed to teachers cancelling my classes in the days before and after, I planned accordingly; ie general games to play with the kids, so I don't spend hours prepping a lesson I use twice, and so I don't have all my classes in different places in the 'curriculum' (I use the term very loosely). The round-robin story writing I'd intended to use all week was a dismal disaster (the kids do NOT understand the concept of creative writing no matter how you couch it), and the verb soccer game I'd assembled in its place just didn't feel like it was ready for prime time. In desperation at the last minute, I pulled out an old standby game, one that always seemed like barely controlled chaos last year...and it worked beautifully! The kids did great with it, they seemed to like it, and one of the co-teachers said it was fun. I feel a bit better now, but add all this to a recalcitrant lesson the prior week plus EEP last Saturday, and I've had 3 solid weeks of daily writing and rewriting during what was supposed to be my down time.

Next week, I teach Monday, then the kids go on field trips for 4 days in a row. After that, we have a 6-week push and then finals. I plan to show some kind of video for the leftover weeks in July, so while my head is spinning with plans and the agony of producing them, there really isn't much left at all.

I have a boy who's taken to talking to me for extended stretches of time. He's a really nice kid, quiet and long-suffering--I'm not sure how much of a social life he has; I never see him roughhousing or teasing with the other kids. His English is really limited--in the course of a conversation, he'll go to the other teachers multiple times to ask how to phrase something. I hope they're not too exasperated...Ms. Jeon kicked him out after he'd been talking to me for 45 minutes. He left without saying another word to me--I don't know what she said to him; hopefully it wasn't too harsh. He told me he's making me a birthday present. I hope it's on the order of a card. I told him he didn't have to do that, etc, but I'm afraid if I get really vehement about it, he'll think I'm angry at him.

It's 6:30 as I write this...the time I should be making dinner and usually take a nap instead. So, sleepy and hungry, I'm trying to remember what else I wanted to mention.

Wednesday was Children's Day. No school! Diana & I wandered around downtown, taking in several "trick" fountains--I love watching them as much as the kids love standing in them--and discovering that the ice rink has moved out of Gwanghwamun Square in favor of grass!! Real grass that you're allowed to sit on! Last year, it was a sea of flowers, but now there are just enough beds to make the place fragrant. We'd been headed for Insadong and the Cheonggye Cheon, but once we parked on that grass, that was it for the afternoon.

We did meet up with Sarah and a friend from home later to get Mexican food in Itaewon. Itaewon would make a great model for an economic textbook (or a marketing one)...deprive people of tasty, diverse food, and they will be willing to pay any outlandish price (plus tax) for crummy service and minuscule portions. I thought the US was overboard with the a la carte trend, but in Itaewon, you'd better be prepared to fork over some more if you want rice with your curry or pitas with your hummus.

Thoughts and Observations of an Evening's Walk

Just came back from a walk to bask in the full moon. I thought Professor Lupin was my favorite Harry Potter character because he's smart, sweet, and competent, the irresistible trifecta, but it may just be that I'm a complete lunophile, so who better to attach to than the werewolf? It's been a wet, blustery week in Seoul...glad things cleared just in time.

A couple of thoughts from my meanderings:
Korea has way too many cute cat things, and I have more money than willpower. Just bought my second pencil case. I've resisted this one before, but it wore me down. I did manage to leave the adorable journal & pen behind. This time.

If you need a surgical mask or a 20-lb bag of rice at 10pm, you've got choices. Bread? Good luck.

Saw a couple holding hands, walking across the KHU campus. He was wearing a business suit, she was in high heels & pajamas.

One of our frequent trainers here signs all his correspondence and has as the motto of his website the quote, "When one teaches, two learn". I think he's got the numbers exactly right.

Jon Stewart was ON FIRE tonight interviewing Ken Blackwell. Wish I could assemble thoughts at a moment's notice like that!

This is midterm week (Korean kids have a midterm and a final for each semester), which is hell on the kids, but heaven for me. I get to sit by myself in the office, planning (or not--though that's coming back to bite me and I have homework now), and leave at noon. I checked out Seoul National Cemetery today...not listed in any guidebook, but I saw it on a map. It's a fantastic place for a walk. I saw it from the subway a couple weeks ago when the cherry blossoms were out and it was breathtaking, but the plain ol' green I saw today was not half bad. The cemetery itself is amazing--it's huge and the graves and decorations are all uniform, so you can stand in a pathway and see the same image repeating endlessly to infinity in all directions. it's like being in an Escher sketch.

I saw the graves of a couple of presidents. One had a Winnebago covered with flowers and fitted with a picture window to drive him around the country after he died. Once his farewell tour was finished ("pinishee"), they parked it in the cemetery and walled it in with glass, and there he lies to this day. Another president and his wife are up on top of a hill (everything on Korea is on top of a hill) with the usual acoutrements--stone lanterns, a big totem, and massive grass mounds. There was also a golden carved incense burner with an urn in front, and people would grab a handful of something from the urn and toss it in the burner. One couple brought flowers, and a college kid in a booth came out to make forbidding gestures at them. They didnt' take the flowers back, though, and he didn't do anything either, although he continued to lurk rather than going back to his tiny glass office, and I didn't stick around long enough to see it resolved.

All in all, it was nearly as nice to walk as Mt. Hope. Nowhere near as interesting--uniform military graves don't tell their stories--but hilly and green and peaceful (if you ignore the construction equipment). A couple random bits: Korean birds look as bedraggled as Korean cats. What's with that? There was a bell that was dedicated by the Korean Veterans' Association. The sign says it's rung on June 25 (the Korean 9/11) and for the "staff's monthly bowing ceremony". I noticed in the tributes, they refer to Korean soldiers & patriots dying for the "Fatherland". Wonder what that says about cultural differences.

Tomorrow, we have a district workshop. I'm rather looking forward to it. It's some kind of culture education thing (the teacher responsible for me couldn't work up the courage to tell me about it, but Terrie, my old wrangler, was asked to help out with it, so she filled me in)--I think we're going to learn to bow, make kimchi (as long as they don't make us eat it...), and try on hanbok, the Korean traditional dress (glad I didn't pay to do that at the various tourist spots I've visited). It'll be nice to be on the receiving end of a class.

I've been reading old posts of my favorite blogger, and one of his entries begs sincere flattery. I'm as fond of lists as he is, and I thought this was neat: simple delights, from the world of culture/human expression. All year, I've been keeping lists of seasonal pleasures as an outlet for homesickness--getting into a sun-warmed car on a crisp autumn day, sitting in a room lit only by Christmas tree lights, the first 'no-jacket' day of the year, walking home from Netsin's on a balmy night... This list, however, draws from media: movie moments, passages in books, tidbits from a song...little dumb things that make your soul giggle or soar.

I figured it would be a while before I blogged this list--there are hundreds of things that belong on it, all requiring a very specific messenger to extract them from memory--but it's a rainy afternoon and I don't have any lessons that are due tomorrow, so here's the infant rundown. Right now, it's mostly comprised of category favorites; the sort of stuff that comes to mind immediately in response to "what book/movie/band do I love?", but I hope to add to it as inspiration occurs. So far:

Maria & the Captain dancing the Laendler in the Sound of Music. He has a few great looks, too, though I'd have to watch it again to remember where.

The scene at the end of A Christmas Story where the parents are sitting on the couch, Silent Night is playing on the radio, fat bulbs are glowing on the Christmas tree, and fat snowflakes are falling past the window.

Dumbledore's repartee with the Dursleys in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. McGonagall's answers to Umbridge during Harry's career counseling session in Order of the Phoenix are equally delicious.

Pretty much any lick The Edge has ever played. Any time I shift my focus to the guitar in a U2 song, I am blown away by the exquisite perfection of it....the timbre, the rhythm, the restraint....*blow kiss off fingertips*

In Great Big Sea's Love Me Tonight video, there are shots of Murray & Bob each cracking a smile, and they never fail to elicit the same response from me.

The fillers & lyric changes that have been canonized on GBS' live CDs, like Sean's gleeful, "and Bob broke out his fiddle and danced naked around the floor!" in Scolding Wife.

Maybe this is stretching it, but I've watched Bert & Ernie spliced to gangsta rap a couple dozen times and laughed every single one.

...and so much more.

While I try to think of other memorable minutiae, I'm curious what's on YOUR list. I'd like to invite everyone--especially if you've never commented before--to post your own favorites, even if it's just one thing. Remember, it's little things--I've even gone a bit macro in my items, but you get the idea. I'm looking forward to reading them!

I'm Not Alone!!!

So I was blog-stalking my new friend Meaghan, and came across this passage:

"There are lots of things about Korea that drive me crazy, for sure. I swear to god, the spitting is liable to make me hurt someone. The other day I almost threw up on the train, like literally gagged and had to turn away, when a woman seated on a bench (and sandwiched in by two people, mind you) took a ziploc baggie out of her purse, proceeded to clear her entire nose and throat and hock phlegm into the baggie before sticking it back in her purse. I was aghast. On the way to work I dodge, without exaggeration, at least 30 piles of phlegm on the streets, steps, sidewalks, etc. Yesterday I got really angry as a middle school aged asshole cut me off as I exited the train just so that he could purposely hock a giant loogie onto the BENCH in the subway station. I mean that is just disgusting. I am so sick of the hacking and gagging as people spit. I'm also sick of the lack of personal space. I am only half joking when I say that the next old person who pushes me on the train for NO REASON is getting slapped in the face. So sick of it. Hate the spitting, hate the pushing. "

I feel less like a Bitch of Unusual Proportions for being at the end of my rope with this stuff. After watching my friend Sarah slip on a loogie and almost fall flat on the pavement in Itaewon, I decided that if Wile E. Coyote were Korean, he'd skip the banana peels and just hock an oyster in RoadRunner's path.

PS: Meaghan, you forgot to mention the puke

Miss Nelson Redux

In my high-level classes, we've been reading the classic "Miss Nelson is Missing". After reading and going over vocabulary for the last 2 weeks, this week I gave the kids a piece of paper with 6 panels and tasked them with retelling the story, with pictures and words. Giving the kids creative work is always my favorite thing, and I got a lot of great work (great for reasons ranging from painstaking effort to comical deliciousness), but this one is my favorite so far (reproduced verbatim, errors and all):

[Picture of a teacher with no face, only an 'N', and children throwing paper planes and what looks like a human-sized screw]
Here is Room 207 and Miss Nelson is there. They didn't listen Nelson's voice.

[ At the teacher's desk is only a dotted outline. The kids are saying "Horray" and "She's gone~"]
Next morning, Miss Nelson is missing. Then, children was realy act up when they know the Nelson is missing.

[A woman comes through the door saying, "I'm your new teacher Viola Swamp". Kid: "Oh my, she is wich...we are dead" Another kid is writing on the board: 'Go away~', and, in progress, 'Fuc']
And Miss Swamp is appeared. Everyday, they must spend terrible time.

[Kids stand outside a house. An arrow-shaped sign says, "Miss Nelson". A spider dangles from a web on the sign]
Some of Nelson's children went to Nelson's house, but She was not at home.

[The teacher with an N-face is back:"Hi everyone. Are you missed me?" Kid:"Wow~realy are you Nelson?" Board: "Turn back Miss Nelson!"]
Next day, Nelson is come back. Children cried, and Nelson had a secret. 'She was Swamp.'

[Teacher: "Let's have read time" Kids:"Yes. Miss Nelson"]
And they have read time. But no more act up.


Just when I'm ready to strangle them all, they get all cute on me!

Off to the Races!

I have a new hobby! Gambling!

Actually, I only bet on one horse, in one race, and he came in dead last, but it was still great fun to sit outdoors and talk with friends, and every 30 minutes, the Koreans would stand up and yell and a crowd of horses would dash by. Saratoga, here I come! (which reminds me, I haven't been to the speedway since the last century...need to fix that ASAP)

Fortunately, I was meeting 4 friends, because otherwise I probably would have skipped the racetrack and just gone to a park or something. I'd made up my mind to go some months ago, and had lately been wondering what the attraction was. Still, it's a new experience, I figured. But it was fun!!

I had no idea what to expect. We were greeted off the subway by the unmistakable, rotten-egg smell of bundaegi, always a sign of festivity. Horse statues were everywhere. We followed the crowd to a gate where, after paying our 80 cents admission, we were welcomed by women wearing the sort of dresses one associates with mint juleps or porch geese. There were tulips, a fake waterfall, a hole in the ground with bleachers and stables.

Inside, it was just like a European airport. Even the rows of chairs must come from the same distributor. People queued, people dashed about, people sat along every wall and median, papers spread in front of them, meals arrayed around. Instead of flight times, tv screens showed odds and videos of the horses, while crowds squatted in the concourse below, taking notes and filling in bet cards.

Lonely Planet promised a lounge area just for foreigners on the fourth floor, so, with difficulty, we found the place, and a desk where the attendants spoke a smattering of English. They gave us a printout of the competitors and a brochure detailing how to fill in a bet card. Finding no seats, we sat on the floor and made arbitrary choices (mine was, anyway...some of my companions chose horses with cool names). We'd arrived just in time for the one race of the day with waygook horses...I bet on an American. Looking around the "foreigner" lounge, it seemed like many of the people were Korean...maybe just Chinese, I figured. Then I went back to the info desk to see how to place a bet and also happened to see the sign that announced "The foreigner lounge will remain open, but as of April 17, 2010, will allow both foreigners and domestics."

We placed our bets, a 2-step process, then decided to go outside and see if we could find seats out there. Good choice! There were dozens to choose from, all with ashes staticked onto the plastic. We moved a couple of times trying to escape cigarettes before realizing how utterly fruitless an endeavor that was. (Next time, bring a mask...in Korea, no one will even glance twice) It was like being downwind of Krakatoa. Ashes rained on us steadily the entire time. The sound of loogies being enthusiastically prepared was continuous and in stereo surround. Nonetheless, the track is away from the urban jungle, ringed by mountains, and made all the more attractive for the cherry blossoms that filled the center.

We watched with interest not only the occasional run-by, but also the infrastructure; the placement of the starting gates, the camera towers and video replays, the families frolicking in the center. Tractor zambonis would come out to groom the dust after the horses had done their exhibition prancing, and I noticed they were the very John Deere models I saw manufactured in Iowa last year.

We stayed for three races, and I hope I have a chance to go back. Much more fun than the lessons I now have to write.

"My assistant is going to polish your crown"

Yes, this is my fourth post today. I had an entire day without obligations; I'm actually starting to get bored, a feeling I'm not well acquainted with. Of course, I did consider going to the cat cafe tonight and opted not to (despite feeling like it's been WAY too long since I've been, and wanting to see the cats very much); I also have shopping I could do, but I've just completely had it with being around Koreans. I took a walk this afternoon and discovered some wild space very close to my apartment--I will be visiting there many more times, despite its having some annoying Korean features, the most egregious of which being a glaring green fence that diligently prohibits people from getting from my side of it to the summit. I understand neither the need for it, nor the unusually assertive precaution of lacing the top with razor wire. I was in a public park; the people on the other side didn't LOOK like criminals. I don't get it. Nevertheless, I'm pleased to discover some measure of retreat at a distance I can easily cover.

A few random observations:

Kids are always looking over my shoulder when I'm sitting at my desk. I don't have to worry too much about them reading (ie understanding) anything they shouldn't, but they do occasionally ask me why it's not in Korean. I don't think they've gotten their heads around the idea that I speak English all the time.

My system of crimes & punishments in the classroom dictates that if you're breaking a rule and have been warned once, on the second offence, you have to write your name on the board and stay after class. Students staying after class must push in chairs and pick up trash from the floor (I used to have them erase the board, too, until I realized this was a treat). One of my co-teachers, Mr. Lim, really backs me up on this. There have been times I've forgotten to detain the offenders, only to discover him using his wooden stick to point out bits of flotsam under desks. He even insists that they get the trash out of the desks...probably fortunate since there is always a bunch. One crew turned up two pairs of pantyhose. The next student to really rankle me should probably be required to clean all the profanity and pornography off the desks. Writing on desks is something of a national pasttime in Korea, and after 6 weeks of classes, most of the desks make for extensive reading material, not to mention a recap of the syllabus to date.

Why is it that if you ask a Korean the equivalent of, "So let me get this straight, 'park' means leaving your car and also a green recreation space?" they will invariably insist that no, those are two different words. If you really press the issue, they will concede that the words are spelled and pronounced the same, but are still different words.

Dogs here are almost universally minuscule and airheaded, but one thing I much appreciate is that they virtually never charge or make as if to eat you when you pass them on the street. On the short list of things I'll miss when I get home, this is one. The other is having a doorbell on your table at restaurants so you can summon the server whenever needed. (This actually only exists at a small fraction of Korean restaurants, but when I mentioned to my co-teachers that I thought it was a great idea, they couldn't imagine how we get service at American restaurants)

I had my tooth finished yesterday with very little ado. They put me in a private room, which I didn't think boded well, and then said they were going to remove the temporary crown without any anaesthetic, but told me repeatedly to let them know if the pain got too excruciating. I tensed and gripped the chair arm, she reached into my mouth with the overgrown tweezers...and the thing came out in a split second as if it had been waiting perched on my tongue. I didn't feel it at all. The crown fitting was almost as easy, although they left me to think about it for 20 minutes (during which time I realized I should have asked someone who has crowns what the process entails). She said I was very lucky; a perfect fit on the first try is extremely rare. Fortunately, the cement they use to secure it is tasteless, a far cry from the industrial glue that holds in the temp. Once it was in, she gave me a string of instructions in heavily accented English, from behind a face mask, then said that because porcelain is delicate, I should eat soft food. "You mean like tonight, or forever?" I asked. "Well, forever would be good, but..." Yeah, but. Now that I'm stuck with it, you're telling me porcelain's not up for the job?

All the instruments in the office have plastic bags on the handles and film on the screens and touch pads. Koreans NEVER take that stuff off of anything.

I've decided that my objectives for the next 5 years of my life are: to become financially stable (and hopefully buy my house), travel as much as possible, and lay the foundation--with specific actions--for starting the experiential after-school program that is my life's work. To that end, if anyone knows of a job I could do in the Rochester area that pays a workable salary, please let me know. I'd especially like to work for a university, especially especially with foreign students, but that's just my first choice.

Also, I plan to go to Hong Kong and Shanghai (for the World's Fair!) sometime between July 21 and August 21. I would really, really prefer not to go alone, so if anyone out there wants to come, please let me know about that, too.

Fighting!! (I'm told the Koreans say this, but I have yet to hear it or figure out what it means)

Better

The previous entry was written in utter pique (yes, really), but, peevish as it is, it's part of the experience, so I feel a certain obligation to post it. I could have written Korea over and over, Shining-style, it felt so good to stop trying to be tolerant. Korea's like a bad date; it's very nice and has many things to recommend it, but there's no chemistry between us, and the longer we spend together, the more exasperated I get. I'm sure someone else will be very happy with it, but I'll be very happy to delete it from my address book. I wish it every success in the future.

Another issue I had yesterday was that I was hungry. Like "it's been days since I had a good meal and my body won't put up with this crap for another instant" hungry. Being hungry and hating Korea are so interconnected that when I find myself inwardly ranting at everyone, my first thought is "what have I had to eat today?". It was to be a long time til dinner--there was an overlong dentist visit, an unsuccessful attempt to reach my next stop via an alternate and more convenient subway line, and the increasingly-frustrated walk around that station that ultimately ended with me getting back on the train and going the 'right' way--but when I finally arrived at Yeouido, met a patient Diana, and emerged onto the street rather desperate, instead of the usual wasteland that greets such a situation, there, across the street, was....Kraze Burger!!! I've been wanting to try one of those! They're American-style, which means expensive, tax extra, and vegetarian option(s). I had a tomato and fresh mozzarella sandwich and, most gloriously, french fries! I've been craving fries for a while...while they're available frozen at Costco, the necessary stovetop preparation doesn't scratch the itch. Anyway, Kraze Burger was a moment of grace at the end of an extremely trying day. I thoroughly appreciated it, and we even capped the evening with mint chip at Baskin Robbins. :D

In between courses, we walked around the perimeter of the island (a small chunk of land at the edge of the Han River) and enjoyed the cherry blossoms, now in full flower. It was really, really nice. Yeouido is much more recently developed, and with infinitely more attention to aesthetics than the rest of Seoul. It's also a very wealthy district. The apartment high-rises have design elements, the streets are lined with trees, and there's space between things. It was one of those rare pockets in Korea that allows my soul to breathe. Walking under a canopy of flowers is a rare treat, and we even discovered a lilac bush just beginning to bloom. I could feel the quizzical stares of Koreans as Diana and I took turns burying our faces in the one flower that was open enough to smell. And smell it did--heavenly is too tame a word to describe it. Great salve for a very weary soul.

I had a nice respite last weekend, too. Decided to take a day trip to Incheon, inspiring a lot of puzzlement from anyone I told. Incheon's a port city, replete with cranes, smokestacks, and an industrial aura that make it potentially off-putting at first glance. Second glance, too--after checking out its impressive but not lovable Chinatown, and mingling with the masses at Jayu Park (home of the General MacArthur statue commemorating the American's liberation of Seoul--the first time--during the Korean War), I was in a veni-vidi-vaminos frame of mind. But I felt obligated to check off the areas mentioned in Lonely Planet so, too cheap to get a cab, I followed the traffic signs on foot out to Wolmido, a recreation-oriented peninsula that's the uvula in the throat of the port.

There was almost nobody around, and I had shipyards on one side and their administrative buildings on the other. And it felt great. I realized that what I've been needing for weeks is peace. I have a bit of a thing for shipping and its environs anyway, but the really great part was the physical & psychic open space. It was fantastic. When I reached Wolmido proper, Lonely Planet's information was too vague to be of assistance, so I had some blind decisions to make. They mentioned a promenade, and I had velleities toward walking it, but followed instinct instead and wound up in a bastion on top of a hill, nearly alone and with a view over the ships, bridges, and sea. I'd found my happy place.

I could have stayed up there a long while, longer even than I actually did. I wished it was close enough to return to repeatedly, but the journey may be justified by the awesomeness of the place. It probably is less enchanting at the height of summer crowds, but to enjoy the peace and beauty of that spot for $3 in subway fare and 3 hours of reading on the train is, I believe, a fair exchange, and a perfectly good use of a free day.

The Whole Truth

Things that are irritating me right now:
1. Korea
2. Korea
3. Korea
4. Korea
5. Korean food
6. Someone stole something that belonged to me out of my classroom.
7. This probably happened during cleaning time, which is useless because if they're cleaning it at all, it's in a most perfunctory way.
8. Being reprimanded, twice, by a co-teacher because kids complain I don't call on them when they want to answer (amazing the difference giving stamps makes!). There were 10 questions on the worksheet and 33 students in the class. You do the math.
9. For the second week in a row, the copy room has printed my worksheets one-sided, despite my requesting double on the form. That's about 1000 sheets of paper used needlessly. It's also a bitch to hand out.
10. Another co-teacher who emailed me the group charts 1 1/2 weeks late and changed the groups without telling me (since we give stamps to groups for participation, this wreaked havoc with the reward system). When the kids complained, she told them I did it.
11. Constant hunger & its various manifestations.
12. Kids mocking me openly in class has gone from almost non-existant to rampant in the space of about 2 weeks.
13. The teacher who's in charge of me now is afraid to speak to me, so I only find out about stuff if someone else thinks to let me know.
14. It takes an hour to go anywhere, even if it's 5 miles away.
15. How hard is walking in a straight line, really?
16. Constant noise & people.
17. Kids' behavior in general has taken a distinct dive of late. It's not just me; other teachers are noticing as well.
18. Co-teachers who show up late or not at all and/or chat with the kids while I'm trying to teach.
19. One co-teacher who keeps remarking, over and over, how few responsibilities I have compared to everyone else.

I don't need any encouraging comments, and I hope this will pass in time (like 4 months! :) ), but I'm taking a savage pleasure at venting my spleen at Korea, and how convenient that I have a forum to do it publicly!

It May Be Time to Leave Someday After All

Late September vs. Now

That's What It's All About!

I finally, FINALLY made it to noraebang last weekend! Noraebang is a quintessential Korea experience, and great fun, but usually done when drunk in Hongdae, and since I don't often find myself drunk in Hongdae, it has eluded me lo these many months. Now that I know what all the fuss is about, I hope to get a few more noraebang nights in before fleeing the country.

What is noraebang? Karaoke (we use the Japanese term). "Norae" means "song", and "bang" (say it with an "ah", not like "big bang") means "room". Bangs are popular in Korea...you have PC Bang, DVD Bang (really just a place to make out when you live with your parents), and any number of other types. And that's the beauty of Korean karaoke (I could probably get deported for sticking with the Japanese moniker)--rather than waiting hours to sing in front of strangers in a bar, you pay for an hour in your own room, with just your friends at witnesses. No waiting, minimal humiliation, and nothing to hold you back from taking advantage of every opportunity Koreans can dream up. Where else are you going to wear a fox suit and bang on a light-up tambourine?

Not kidding about that. Korea and camp go together like peas and carrots, and like so much else here, noraebangs are a sort of psychedelic rococo. The fixtures at this place were county-fair-does-Versailles, and the floors were plexiglass with...displays, I guess you would call them, underneath. There was a desert section, birds and blooms, bugs... As Obi put it, you felt like Godzilla walking over it all. The 'bang' itself had one giant mirrored wall, framed by an LED arch with strobe lights. A large flat-screen tv showed dreamlike (as in that ad with Abe Lincoln and a beaver playing chess in the attic) Korean videos for each song. If the fox suit was too hot (it was), there were also wigs and goofy props to abet the silliness.

Besides the free (well, included) ice cream and caramel corn, the guy offered us the foreign song book. Not sure where he thought we were from--that one had 4 different languages in it, all of them Southeast Asian. The English songs were in the teeming binder along with the Korean ones, and offered hundreds of choices. Time ran out for John Denver or Cyndi Lauper, and my friends were unacquainted with Starship (too bad!), but we did belt out some Journey, butchered U2, did a laudable rendition of Twist & Shout, and closed the night bouncing to Chumbawamba. Decided against doing any "Pill Collins".

Thinking I was merely going to dinner, I didn't have my camera with me, but as soon as my skiving friends post pictures on Facebook, I'll steal them and share.

Variations on a Theme

It occurs to me the folly of titling these posts, as at this point, they're all aimless meanderings in a feeble attempt to summarize increasingly ridiculous amounts of time. As usual, I've got several topics to pontificate on, and as usual, they'll be hitting on the same themes:

The trivial: Out of nowhere (ok, because of reading my blog crush's old posts), I decided to watch Jon Stewart online tonight, and was treated not only to videos of gamboling kittens--he actually managed to make the church sex scandal funny--but a 7-year-old video clip of Steve Carell making kimchi ("It's a delicious treat, for outdoor dining or a well-ventilated area")

The existential: I'm in the process of getting my first dental crown. The idea of this being an existential issue is probably laughable to many of you, but it's really messed with my head. After years of dire predictions that always ended in relatively harmless fillings, I've finally hit a body part that's beaten beyond repair. As I white-knuckled the chair arms and mentally sang "Beautiful Day" for all I was worth, while one of my teeth was ground to a stump by a Korean lady with way too much makeup who repeatedly promised that this spin of the drill was "the finishing touch", I felt surprisingly vulnerable and mortal. This stuff isn't just for other people any more. When the doctor says you have to undergo freakish, unpleasant procedures, you suck it up and let it happen. With a phantom Bono as a stand-in for your mommy. My mom has often mentioned how she had to go a few rounds with the doctor about the necessity of my Blankie when I split my head open at age 2. I wouldn't have minded if she'd done the same now.

The what-the-f*ck's-wrong-with-Koreans: so many choices here, but today's rant will be on littering. I've been noticing for a while the ubiquity with which Korean teens mindlessly drop the wrapper from whatever they're eating, wherever they are. I've had the urge to go up and shake them and say, "This is YOUR country. Why are you befouling it?" I see littering in the US, too, but here it just seem so universal. Leaving your mess for others to clean up is apparently the modus operandi. (though so is leaving others to clean up their mess--it always amazes me that if you drop something on the street, no one will help you, even if you're an old lady with a cart full of groceries, or even if it was someone else's carelessness that caused the spill) I've been 'castigated' for erasing the board after my classes...though maybe the other teachers have fairies I don't, 'cause I'd then just have to erase the board in the next classroom I went to (I'm spared this now, teaching in the same room every time). I could go on & on, but the real kicker was the guy I saw today spreading leaflets. And I mean that literally. I've seen flyers floating around on the streets before, and figured they'd escaped from somewhere, but this guy was walking with a stack and just tossing one on the ground every few feet. My cultural sensitivity is strained perilously close to the breaking point.

The literary: I'm on to Wuthering Heights. I read it in high school, and remember precious little beyond one of my classmates summarizing the dramas/emotions so insightfully it blew my mind. I don't recall being plussed by the book, but I'm getting pretty into it now. Maybe not quite so thoroughly (ie obsessively) as Harry Potter or John Rebus, but I've done a bit of one-more-chaptering. I know a bunch of them are going to die, but otherwise, I remember nothing. It says in the foreword, and I agree, that Emily Bronte's understanding of human emotions is quite impressive for someone who never interacted with any.

Those crazy Koreans: I'm still deciding if being crowned here is fortunate or not. I've been to the dentist's office twice now--once for the initial procedure, and a second time to re-glue my wayward temporary crown, which came off in a mouthful of gimbap the first time I let myself chew on that side. The waiting area--the size of my vestibule in Rochester--is furnished with attractive upholstered chairs & couch, and I have my choice of English magazines, several of which claim that Patrick Swayze is back at work (they must have made a single pilgrimage to What the Book and cleaned out their magazine rack, to rot the minds of waiting Westerners forevermore). When called, I was directed to a chair in a lineup...no individual exam rooms here. The technician took my purse for me, but jackets being fashionable indoor wear here, I was examined in mine. They have nifty self-filling rinse cups that top themselves off when replaced, and little video cameras with giant monitors so you can look closely at your fillings and caries (and those of the patient before.....did someone say privacy? I didn't think so), and the sinks are artistically streaked with the blood of the previous patient. The drill sprays water that you can gag on while they work, and when I expressed my concern that swallowing might nudge the drill, Dr. Park assured me that swallowing is ok because the water is sterilized. They did make the concession of getting more aggressive with the spit-sucker, so I have several tongue hickeys to distract me from the discomfort of the wannabe crown. I could go on, but I'll save it for next week, when I go back for the real thing.

The students: seem to have gone crazy. The honeymoon's over. Besides the ones who behave like caged animals (which, I suppose, they are), there's the class that doesn't speak--a real rarity here, and not as thoroughly great as it sounds (though they did titter when I taught them the expression "cat's got your tongue")--and the gay boy who's in love with me. The first time or two he said he loved me, it was cute, but we're quickly progressing to freaky. He lavishes me with compliments, announces his undying love at every opportunity to absolutely everyone, and even asked me to be his Show & Tell object in speaking class last night. I don't want to crush him, but I can't exactly encourage him, either. I hope he gets over it soon. Having a Talk with an American student would be hard enough; shouting it across the language barrier is a pretty hairy proposition.

The weekend: plans to go to Jeonju and hike and see a traditional craftsmen village have succumbed to total apathy. I'm going for a day trip to Incheon, to--likely--walk in the rain. Looking forward to it, though. Checking out the islands and beaches sounds cool, too, but that may have to wait ('cause no matter how much time goes by here, there's always more).

The blog I didn't write: yeah, the Temple Stay. I'll get to it.

20 weeks!

As usual, there is much to talk about. Funny how that happens when I let almost 2 weeks go by between posts.

Today's musing is, what's with the word "story" for Koreans? I noticed a shop called Pizza Story on the way home today. One of the major rice cake makers (and rice cakes are BIG business) is Story of Rice Cake. There's Hair Story, Storyway, and at least a dozen others I can't call to mind at the moment. Methinks maybe there's some misinterpretation going on. I might have to ask someone. Another question: why, when you ride to the last stop on a subway, do they always tell you to be sure you have all your belongings? Is leaving something on the train ok when it's on its way elsewhere?

"June", one of my new co-teachers, is very good about explaining things to me. Good thing, since my 'caretaker' is on maternity leave, and her substitute hasn't plucked up the courage to talk to me yet. I continue to learn about English as well, from answering my colleagues' questions. Issues I've fielded this week: "sure" and "no problem" are indeed acceptable responses when someone says "thank you", while "don't mention it" makes you sound like Cary Grant; "I like that you enjoyed your vacation" is awkward, but "I like that he took a leadership role" isn't, for reasons I haven't yet unraveled.

I'm nearly through Bill Bryson's "The Mother Tongue: English & How it Got That Way". Lots of interesting bits...why does the US Postal Service deliver the mail, while the Royal Mail delivers the post?...myriad reasons why English is so inconsistent: we're a mix of Anglo-Saxon vocabulary and Latin rules, when adopting foreign words, we tend to preserve the spelling but not necessarily the pronunciation, etc, etc. Though he has little to say about Korea, his frequent mention of Japanese difficulties with English are all too familiar. Another place he fails to mention is Newfoundland, which I would think would be a gold mine for a linguist, as it seems to be a bit of a time capsule--at several points, Bryson details archaic pronunciations and obsolete rhymes that I've actually heard spoken on The Rock.

My lesson this week was about Easter. Korean kids know about eggs, but that's it. The Easter Bunny was a new concept even for the teachers, while the kids got a big kick out of children "dyeing" eggs. They also were very impressed that Peeps are made from marshmallow (I don't know why), and were mostly convinced that the coconut-covered bunny cake I showed them was made of rice. Thinking about it now, I should have made "jellybean" a vocabulary word, but too late. The lesson was fun, but after 20 repetitions, I'm glad to be done with it. This coming week, I start differentiating lessons, so I've got 3 separate plans in the works, in addition to 2 for tomorrow's EEP classes (yes, my first stressful Saturday). I even started working on them early in the week, but my head is still spinning trying to keep track of it all.

Speaking of head spinning--or perhaps swimming--I may have mentioned this before, but WHAT is with Koreans and onions at Costco?? Last time I was there with friends, we resolved not to sit near the onions in the dining area, but I realized this time that proximity to the dispenser is largely irrelevant. EVERYONE gets themselves a giant plate of diced onions, stirs them up with ketchup and mustard, and then--this is the amazing part--EATS it. But not before the stink gets all over my jacket. I guess it's the Korean garbage plate (though that term could be applied to so many things here), but the name is so apt, it loses the wry element.

I'm going to a Passover Seder tomorrow. I'm excited--I've never been to one before. It's a potluck, which is a real bear...potlucks in general are a trial here, since I don't have the ingredients/equipment to make my usuals, but add the Passover food rules, and I'm totally lost (this is the holiday where I once had a parent, when I was babysitting for a full day, tell me "it's probably best if you don't eat anything 'cause you might mess up the plates"). I floated a few ideas past the host, who either shot them down or suggested expensive, needle-in-a-haystack ingredients as substitutes, and finally got the brilliant idea to just make applesauce. I hope there's nothing wrong with cinnamon.

I scratched a major itch this week by walking around Deokso. Back in the fall, I was making a point to go exploring every week, and one strategy was to pick random subway stops and see what's there. I'd chosen Deokso early in March, and penciled it in at least 3 times, but was always thwarted. This week, I finally set out. It seems to be located on some kind of lake, which was neat-looking from the subway, but Koreans like to put major roads along water, so you can't just walk up to it. I did find a drainage ditch to walk along, which was nicer than it sounds. The full moon was coming up, in rather sinister color, and there were cranes (I think) fishing in the water. Hardly a nature preserve, but much more satisfying than my neighborhood. I didn't bring my camera, and it was dark anyway, but I wish I had a picture of the airplane church. Someone's taken an old 747, raised it up on stilts so it's about its own height off the ground, and turned it into a place of worship. I'm half tempted to go to a service. The plane was oddly eerie, jutting out of a hillside. I've heard that the essence of scary is putting ordinary things where you don't expect them to be...worked in this case.

Also in the "where's my camera?" department: FAG company (no idea what they make), and a bus from BS Tours.

Someday (theoretically), I'll post about my Temple Stay last weekend. Pretty touristy, but pretty cool.

I Never Expected This!

Yellow dust...you hear about it from every guidebook, website, and person having anything to do with Korea. Sand from the Gobi Desert, blows in in the spring, irritates noses & lungs. Ok. I still wasn't really sure how to picture it. I guess I had in mind the sandstorms on the dunes in Colorado, or perhaps something like the film of pollen you find on your car every morning when the trees bloom? How about something between nuclear fallout and Krakatoa?

All last week, other expats were mentioning yellow dust in their Facebook posts, and I was wondering which Seoul they were living in, having seen nothing out of the ordinary myself. Yesterday, however, was unmistakable. I THINK it was a regular storm that made it nighttime-dark around noon. But once that blew by, it got lighter, but not clear, and there was a pronounced yellow glow. You couldn't discern anything in the air, like with snowflakes, and I didn't end up with sand in every crease, as I did after climbing the Colorado Dunes, just eerie yellow overcast, like wearing cheap sunglasses. This must be what the Dust Bowl or Mt. St. Helens were like. Unfortunately, I didn't think to take any pictures. I thought I might try today, but it was sunny and clear, as if the yellow dust were never here.

I don't think this has anything to do with the cold-ish ailment I've been nursing this weekend. That's probably more related to the Korean disdain for calling in sick, and thus the liberal sharing of germs around the office. I had to bail on the cat cafe on Friday--a wrenching decision, since I haven't been there in 2 months, though it can hardly be called a decision...more a lack of ability to stand up. I missed the St. Patrick's Festival/Parade and a middle eastern lunch with the Seoul Veggie Society yesterday, too, though that was in part due to having to be at school to interview applicants for this year's EEP program. The kids were supposed to choose one of four pictures and tell a short story (ie 4-5 sentences) about it. Whenever I've tried activities like this in my classes, the students seem completely flummoxed, so I was curious how this would go. And either this year's crop of 1st graders is pretty poor at English, or this activity truly is outside the repertoire of most Korean schoolkids. (I'm inclined to believe the 2nd, as I've never seen evidence of anything creative taking place in a Koren classroom)

I had 2 or 3 kids stare at the paper until my co-teacher told them "time over". About 45% gave perfunctory answers when prompted ("What's happening in this picture?" "Basketball."), and about 45% did put together a few sentences, usually descriptive rather than creative ("They are in a classroom. They are studying English.") Then there were the standouts. One boy labored through a couple sentences about the picture he'd chosen before asking if he could do a different picture. He then proceeded to read the sample at the bottom of the page verbatim. Another, when asked which picture he chose, gave a long explanation of how the other kids in line didn't seem to be choosing Picture 4, so he was going to do that one in the hope that he might earn some extra points for it (Picture 4 wasn't actually that unusual, but he did earn full marks for a good, competent story). There was one fantastic tale of a basketball game involving teenagers from Russia who eventually had to flee because they were cold; and then there was the story that even got my head teacher to laugh: the boy and his family were sailing to the USA when they met a sea monster; after fighting the monster, the boat sank, and then they discovered Atlantis (a 7-syllable word) and swam to an island where they called a Korean scientist, and in the end, they were rich. The pronunciation and grammar were atrocious, but he got his point across, was far more creative than anyone else, and I've conversed with this kid about the English books he reads at home, so I know his attitude is good. The other interviewers were asking kids if they like English or want to be in this program, and several were honest and said 'no'.

So this week, we start EEP, in addition to all the other scheduled insanity. I've GOT to get better, 'cause I don't have time to be sick. My temperature was within a couple ticks of normal this afternoon, but it's back to 100 now, so I'm hoping this is the final battle. I'm teaching classes the rules and consequences this week, and I still have to decide how exactly I'll do that, and what the consequences are going to be. The good behavior of the first week was apparently just a 'welcome back' respite; my last class on Friday let me know how much work there still is to do.

Groovin' on a Thursday Afternoon

I wanted to explore Deokso tonight (because I didn't go last Thursday), and I have a Skype appointment that I need to keep, but I'm feeling tired and unadventurous. I know I need a walk, and I want to ensure that the cat cafe hasn't folded, and see N'Seoul Tower lit green for St. Patrick's Day, but reading and writing are appealing to me right now. Normally, I look forward to Skype conversations, but tonight, I'd rather grab one of the countless books and magazines lying neglected around me and forget what time it is.

I finished Orhan Pamuk's Istanbul yesterday. It was a slog, though judging from the multiple pages of radiant praise (and the Nobel Prize for Literature), I'm the only one who thought so. It wasn't uninteresting--I've gained insight into this city I hope to visit next year, and the author seems like someone I might get along with--but the lengthy, loving descriptions were better suited to someone who's seen the place, and the same goes for the dense, nostalgia-laden historical litanies. I've now switched gears completely, having brought "Little House in the Big Woods" back with me from NY. The inscription reads "Christmas 1980, To Melissa with love, the start to your personal collection. Mommy and Daddy." I know I was seldom without one of these books in the early '80s, but I don't remember revisiting them since. It's interesting and informative (in just 2 chapters, I've learned details on butchering, smoking meat, and making butter), and made richer by the dual experience of vividly recalling pictures and passages, and appreciating the story through a vastly different lens. This is the first of 9 books I've collected to read this semester--it doesn't sound like much, but I'm not sure I'll make it. The others are: Bill Bryson's The Mother Tongue (a re-read), Wuthering Heights, The Ugly American, The Secret Life of Bees, Little House on the Prairie, Travels with Charley, Rats, and Gulliver's Travels.

Today was a remarkable day, with many diversions and simple pleasures. Lessons and planning continue to go well. If I get around to it, I'll post separately on that--there's certainly enough material for it. While I saw the last class for the first time today, and taught a low-level class a lesson that I'd mentally composed just for them on yesterday's walk home, I've seen most of the 3rd-graders twice now, and the honeymoon is in its waning moments. Still, teaching in my own classroom has numerous benefits, one of which is that I think the kids behave better. But again, I'll address that on its own (or say I will, anyway). Classes today were all 35 minutes, and the dreaded extra period we have on Thursdays was cancelled...only later did I find out why. I was told that parents could come to school today to observe their children. Sure, fine. I was not prepared for the pack that gathered outside my classroom door 6th period. Maybe I should have bowed to them or something when they came in, but I was trying hard to pretend they weren't there, jealously guarding my newfound confidence. Fortunately, this was an advanced class, and they behaved like church mice (or maybe unfortunately--they probably would have been pretty good anyway and I could have used the parent influence on my delinquents), but since they were a "high" class, I not only wanted to get through what's usually 45 minutes of material; I felt they were capable of doing it that fast. I don't know how good the parents' English is, but we FLEW through getting-to-know-you and St. Patrick's Day. After class, the parents lingered while I shut down the computer, erased the board, pushed in the chairs. And then Ms. Kim returned and I discovered what they were waiting for--evaluations. SO glad I didn't know that was part of the deal. Nobody told me what they wrote, but at least the lesson was coherent, somewhat interesting, and used PowerPoint, and the kids made me look good.

Ok, so that was more "diversion" than "simple pleasure". The short classes meant we had a long afternoon to while away, and I found two fascinating websites with the potential for long-term enjoyment (a good thing, since the Africa Overlanders I've been following one country a day since December are now 3 days from finished): fedupwithschoollunch.blogspot.com, an Illinois teacher who's eating what the kids eat for a year and has sparked an incredible conversation about something I hope to crusade on in the future, and the Prelinger Archives, where old ('40s-'60s ish...or were they 40-60 years old?) commercials and 'education' films are viewable. I watched a sales pitch on careers in sales, a travelogue for Freedomland amusement park in the Bronx (sounded pretty cool!), an exhortation for kids to share, "Pornography for Profit" (see the world's first powerpoint, and learn how homosexuality causes communism in this gem), and a neat system for families to enjoy more free time. Also found "Leave it to Beaver" on YouTube (Beaver: "That's my shrunken head." June:"Why, so it is"). Good times!

On the way home, my co-teacher, June, took me to a jewelry shop, where I got the 13-months-dead battery in my given-up-for-lost watch replaced in two shakes of a lamb's tail for $4. A few paces down the sidewalk, we came upon a vendor hawking fresh strawberries (they're in season in Korea, somehow). For $2, I've got a carton all my own! I asked June why prices ranged from $2-$5 (the rough won equivalent) for what appeared to be the same size cartons. She said it was the size of the strawberries. So while it may be important to someone to pay more than double for the mutant ones, I got the succulent ones (which aren't all that small) for a song. I had some for dessert, after my tortellini (from home) with fresh tomato, garlic, basil, and olive oil. :D

Shorter posts. Yup.

More Bathroom Adventures

Yes, after nearly 2 weeks of silence, I am blogging about nothing more substantive than bathrooms. In my defense, I'll say that I've been quite busy with evening activities, I've been making a concerted effort this week to update my languishing kids' blog (2 whole posts!!), and bathrooms are probably what a lot of you find most interesting anyway.

I'm also trying to make my posts shorter, as I think a lot of my procrastination on the blogging front is due to not wanting to start unless I have an hour or more to sacrifice, so I'm working (undoubtedly slowly) toward the paragraph here 'n' there format many other bloggers use. We'll see how that goes.

Anyway, while following some colleagues to the cafeteria a couple weeks ago, I discovered the teachers' bathroom. It's in the other building, and so requires a few minutes and the donning of a jacket (not that I'd leave the office--the literal one--without one anyway...it's still only in the 40s here), but it's nicer, provides toilet paper, and I won't set off a shrieking frenzy if I run into anyone else in there. It also seems to be heated, though this could just be the rising ambient temperatures of near-spring.

There are 4 stalls; 3 squatters, and the "handicapped" toilet. (It doesn't use the word, or any amusing substitute, just the ubiquitous stick wheelchair guy...or maybe it's a woman, since she's in the ladies' room) I don't know if it's gauche to use the handicapped facilities, but I've never caused a line, and my foreigner status gives me an almost-universal "get out of faux pas free" card.

I did actually take the plunge and try the squatters for 2 days last week. It wasn't that bad, just disorienting to have tp available in that posture. I don't have a problem with them, but am still preferentially gravitating to the western option. Interestingly, they're the first of their kind I've used (outside of Italy), meaning that if I hadn't chosen to use them, I would still have never been forced to.

Add to the list of brilliant ideas in use here: a plastic accordion door on the restroom stall. It thwacks into place via magnetic strip, and there's a hook & eye for busier bathrooms or paranoid people. It covers the entire opening (no "peep strips" on either side), and you don't have to maneuver around it. Brilliant!! (especially in airports--I had to explain repeatedly in the line at JFK that I was waiting for the handicapped stall because it was the only one I & all my luggage would fit into)

Not content with making my life easy, the bathroom sink has a lift lever similar to many in the US, but you lift to turn it OFF. I'm proving even denser with this than with the newer-style car window switches, which I did master after only a dozen or so times--I've yet to turn the sink off on the first try. Then there's the heat dryer, whose electric eye is back against the wall--you almost have to walk your fingers up the back to turn it on--but the heat comes out in the front. I thought for days that it was broken. Now I've learned you can only dry one hand at a time, while the other keeps the sensor active.

Last week at Riverdance (yes, Riverdance) at the Sejong Center, I offset the squat toilets with one of the most incredible bathrooms I've ever been in. Besides the giant lounge and the individual sinks (separated by mirrored partitions--Koreans do love a mirror), the toilet had a heated seat! A first for me! It also had a bunch of other buttons, but after an episode at the Dongbu education office where I pressed a random button and jumped back just in time to watch in both bemusement and mortification as a hose emerged and launched a fountain that hit the stall door and ran onto the floor, I didn't try any of the deluxe features at Sejong. They also had one of the increasingly common "jet dry" devices where you lower your hands between two plastic panels, then withdraw them slowly through a horizontal wall of moving air. It's kinda like the dryer at the car wash.

From my Canadian friend, on her now-"paroled" American boyfriend: "He kept saying 'restroom', which I thought was so weird. Is that an expression in America?"

Rolling Into Week -24

The flags on my fridge are getting noticeably fewer. They're not as weighty as they once were, but it's still satisfying to pull one off every Friday afternoon. And thus I roll into week -24, riding high on a wave of optimism, though likely about to get jerked under by the lingering riptide of jetlag.

Actually, the jetlag hasn't been nearly as bad as I'd anticipated. Both ways, it's mostly manifested as late-night narcolepsy. Normally, I need a little wind-down to actually fall asleep. In the first few days after arrival, however, I reach a point where I shut down as if by switch, around 7:00 the first night and working back to a more manageable 10 or 11:00 now. The first nights back in Seoul, I also had the familiar waking with the roosters, but, instead of lasting a week like it did in August, I only had to put up with it for 2 nights this time. I guess after staying awake for 30 hours straight, one's body doesn't really care what time it is anywhere.

It's been a pretty low-key week. I threw together a lesson Tuesday morning (Monday was Korean Independence Day) before learning that I wouldn't need it this week, so I've had 4 days of deskwarming without the agony of birthing a lesson. The changes and developments at school are mostly on the positive side. Our office is now a henhouse, and the new arrivals include the art teacher who's been really friendly and helpful to me throughout the last 6 months, and a new English teacher, Ms. Yi, who seems to be on my wavelength. Everyone's English is stellar, and though most of the banter is in Korean, I like the vibe.

My classroom is just about ready to go. We had a small setback when someone(s) apparently came in and made off with a few desks and chairs, though they did make the effort to replace them with a handful of dwarf chairs. At least there's a heater now, and the computer at long last has a working mouse. Ms. Cho, my new advocate, said that the kids would schlep the desks when I have my first (and only) class on Monday. I must be turning into a real teacher because the news that my class would be 10-15 minutes shorter elicited more panic than relief.

There has been a shift in my reality. I still spent more time this week reading blogs and weeding emails than writing lessons, but I'm in good shape for next week, I have ideas about the rest of March, and I have a SYLLABUS. More or less. After getting my hands on the school calendar yesterday, I laid out each week, when classes would be, what blocks of time I'll have, and came up with topics through July for both grades (and it still is just 2--more on that in a minute). I found this so compelling I actually continued working on it after I got home. I've never understood people who bring work home when it's not imperative, but I got a little taste of it yesterday (and again today!). Coming up with topics is still a LOT easier than teasing them into lessons, but I feel much more adept at it now, and comfortable with the idea that it'll work out one way or another.

I've been in a bit of a planning frenzy in general. In some ways it makes the time seem shorter...August looks frightfully far away, but when you think of it in terms of "I'm gonna do A, B, C, D, and then I go home", it's practically tomorrow. And I actually do have to sketch out right through to the end to make sure I'm getting to everything I want to get to. I've signed up with 2 Adventure Korea trips in March, a cave thing this weekend that a friend recommended a while back, and a Temple Stay at the end of the month--one thing that every visitor here should experience. I'm a little leery of going with a bus group, but I've been trying for months to arrange something and gotten absolutely nowhere, so bus it is. If friends follow through, I'll also be visiting the National Museum of Korea, and going to the Seoul Racecourse, then in April taking a weekend trip to one of Korea's southern provinces. I've even picked the weeks I want for summer vacation, though they'll have apoplexy at school if I mention it. I'm looking at a week in the Philippines with an extended layover in Hong Kong for July, then a 4-day weekend in Tokyo in August before my valedictory road trip.

Getting wordy here, but 2 happy things I want to mention. I was afraid that this semester was going to be a death march. EEP, the evening program I taught in the fall, is moving to Saturday this year; AND there was a rumor in school that I was going to be teaching all of the 1st graders instead of just the advanced ones, bringing my weekly class load to 25 (anything over 22 and we're entitled to overtime). I assented to Saturday EEP most unwillingly and was bracing myself for writing more plans with just one planning period a day. Turns out there are only 6 Saturdays that EEP is meeting...not so bad over the course of 6 months (though it does mean I can't go camping in the DMZ with Adventure Korea). And, getting my class schedule today, the 25/week plan was apparently scrapped. My 20 classes are actually one less than last semester. And I don't have an additional level to write lessons for (though I may still if the low 2s are as bad as they seemed during camp).

On top of it all, Spring does look like it's going to come this year. Temps have been in the high 40s, and look to stay that way for the foreseeable future. I had to put my umbrella back in my school bag after getting caught without it yesterday. Going out without mittens is actually worth considering. It's a happy time. I'm optimistic.