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.