Paid Vacation

I got back yesterday from 4 days in Jejudo, the honeymoon destination of choice for Koreans, and home of an English Village, a popular camp-type thing where kids go for a few days for some English immersion. I don't know how to explain my luck in being allowed to go--it wasn't originally the plan, and staff there told me I'm the first native-speaker teacher they've seen. It was an awesome trip, and while I'd like to do it justice in blogging, I have to leave for the airport in 3 hours, and I'm sure it will be a mere wisp of memory after a week in Cambodia, so no paragraphs or narrative for Jeju.

This was NOT an American field trip. I expected to have to herd the kids, assist with classes, be summoned in the night, etc. Instead, they put us up in a large seaside apartment, took us out for a massive dinner the first night, and left us to explore the island at our leisure.

I do have my suspicions that the place is designed to entertain/educate the kids as expediently as possible, while pampering the teachers so they'll vote to return year after year. The students were far less impressed with their lodging and rations, and the staff were as disgruntled and flailing as any waygook.

I couldn't decide if the camp gets commissions from the crap the kids bought at our tourist trap field trips, or if they just thought that was the essence of a good time. Tuesday was field trip day, and, with the exception of the orange farm, none of our stops were anything I would willingly part with money or moments of my life for:
--the jewelry museum: someone put their grandmother's leftovers in display cases. Granted, I couldn't read the signage, but it was basically just a bunch of costume jewelry, the kind of gems you see in plastic racks at the RMSC gift shop, and pictures of Princess Diana and Audrey Hepburn. The gift shop primarily offered items that said "Hawaii".
--the butterfly museum: I expected the kind of butterfly pavilion so popular in North America, but instead saw a collage made of dead butterflies pinned to the wall, and a maze of dioramas depicting all sorts of bugs in goofy scenes--skiing, training at a gym, engaged in warfare, etc. Upstairs was the truly horrifying part--a bunch of live animals for visitors to accost. I pet one of the cats leashed to cages, then fled.
--the mirror museum?: a large room with 7 or 8 mirrors in various configurations, and a table for playing Jenga (I've learned not to question)
Then, after lunch (bibimbap! the one time I could eat more than rice & spinach in the cafeteria):
--folk village: a whirlwind tour of a traditional house, a black pig pen, and a Jeju totem, followed by a lengthy sales pitch for omija, a customary Jeju drink. I tried the sample, and it was quite good, like apple juice-flavored tea. Somehow, hard selling adolescents with spending money seems sleazy and opportunistic. I cringed at the fistful of won the old lady waved around as she gestured to the departing group. The presence of a dyed dog didn't add to the place's credibility.
--orange farm: this I liked! We basically barnstormed the place, but I got to eat the freshest orange I've ever had. Maybe I was doing it wrong, but they're hard to pick! I tore the peel of every one.
--horseback riding: we took turns cantering around in a circle a few times. Plenty dramatic, though. The horses were not pleased with their fate, and behaved much like my 3rd-graders do in class. The staff put us on them, then let them loose, so there's no way to stop them if they're of a mind to do something else. Mine kicked the horse one of the kids was riding, then took off at full gallop. I think they let us teachers do an extra revolution around the track, for which I was not at all grateful. When we finally rounded on an open gate, my horse headed for the road. Fortunately, they caught him, and when I at last got down, I was only shaking instead of crying like the kids.

Three things Jeju is said to have in abundance: wind, storms, and women
Three things Jeju is said to lack completely: beggars, locks, and thieves

The place actually reminded me quite a bit of Newfoundland. Or Newfoundland and Craters of the Moon's love child, who was adopted by Koreans. It's a traditional fishing island, and the towns are small and all on the shoreline, with boats moored everywhere. The whole thing is volcanic, with Hallasan presiding over the center, and lava rocks are more abundant than puke puddles in Seoul. Basically, Jeju consists of a ring of fishing villages surrounding a landscape of lava cones and agricultural fields (oranges, garlic, and gigantic green radishes), latticed with walls of lava rock. It's gorgeous.

It's warm, too. Not like Hawaii or Cambodia. But, despite frequent wind and rain, temps were in the 50s, and when I set out touring on Wednesday afternoon, I left my jacket behind. A nice little break.

Wednesday, the teachers were free to do as we wished for the whole day. I'd read and heard that you could rent a taxi for the day for $100, and was prepared to part with half of that and to humor Ms. Jeon a bit on the itinerary, but we ended up hiking over the hill to Hamdeok Beach in the morning, then I took the bus on my own to Sunrise Peak in the afternoon. Terrie considered renting a car, but Ms. Jeon said the principal wouldn't like that because she was supposed to be available for the students. So instead, the two of them went on a transportation saga to the other side of the island to see the vaunted Teddy Bear Museum. They were gone for 7 hours. Whatever.

Sunrise Peak was a little like Diamond Head in Waikiki, though less spectacular. It's a 20-minute haul to the top, up hundreds of lava steps, past honeymooning couples taking scores of timer photos, posing with all the glee of an 1890 portrait. The view from the top is pretty cool, of the sea on one side, and the moguled Jeju terrain on the other. Supposedly, you could see haenyeo, Jeju's famed women divers who have been looking for seafood without tanks for generations, but I didn't spot any. Too bad, since the tradition is dying with the women. I loved Jeju enough that I'd like to take a family vacation there when I have kids, but by then, haenyeo will be just something to read about in a museum.

On the bus back, I ended up sitting next to the teacher from a high school that was also at the English Village. He was really friendly and tried to engage me in conversation, but his English was extremely rudimentary. I'm baffled at how people get to be English teachers without being able to have even the most basic of conversations in English, and also grateful that the teachers at my school are of a higher caliber than most.

Things I really liked seeing in Jeju: sandpipers; amazing clear water with many hues, like looking into a geode; pheasants--all over the place though I was never able to get a picture; tide pools where all the shells were alive; roofs of houses like the doors of Dublin, in a striking palette of Crayola colors; fishing boats; the mint chip-evoking fields of green with black walls like English hedgerows.

More crazy Korea: our toilet paper was printed with cute purple giraffes.

Neat trick: at our first night feast, they poured a line of beer glasses, then balanced shot glasses of soju between each beer glass. Someone hit the end shot glass with a chopstick and they all plonked into the beer, creating an odd mixed drink.

Flying in Korea: you can bring liquids on board!! In Jeju, we had to go out on the tarmac by bus and get on the plane the old-fashioned way. We were on Eastar Jet, an Asian budget airline. The planes were cute, decorated on the inside like a kid's room. It was all space and astronauts on the way there; on the way back, it was photos of world attractions with cartoon kids superimposed creatively in each. They were just posing, with the usual two fingers raised, in front of Angkor Wat and Mt. Fuji, but in Venice, they were in a gondola, and the one little imp was trying to push over Pisa's tower with a finger. Eastar may be no-frills, but one service they do offer is taking your photo on the flight, which they'll then email to you. They didn't offer it on the way back, as we were all too busy bouncing, lurching, and screaming.

Gems from the kids:
The airport bathrooms advertised bidets on some of the stall doors, prompting the kids to ask me about how to say it in English. When I didn't understand what they were saying, I was treated to a comprehensive pantomime performance of a bidet's use.

From the kids' letters home posted on the cafeteria wall: "Today we visited a fork museum"

When Lee from Milwaukee got up to address the kids on the bus, talking at full speed in full dialect: "Teacher, you can understand him?"

The trip was great, the sea exhilarating, and I loved spending time with the kids. Now, time to change gears: Hong Kong tonight, Phnom Penh tomorrow. Stay tuned!