Last night was pretty good. It was nice to meet Smalltown out for once, instead of on my kitchen floor, and see a few other familiar faces from around. Me and Smalltown got right down to business, talking about the kind of things only two people like me and Smalltown can just sort of casually admit to each other. Smalltown kind of makes you feel like you have nothing to lose in this department, sometimes. I showed him the "i wanna brush ur teeth" text and he said he thought it was the most brilliant chatup line he'd ever seen. We agreed to disagree.
Of course, it took me all of thirty seconds upon entering the bar to notice that The Bar Tender has been replaced with a seriously adorable kid in a beanie with glasses and a Sex Pistols t shirt. He waved at Smalltown when we walked in and I was just like, "Who the fuck is that?"
"Liz."
"No I'm just saying. I haven't been here in like a month and [The Bar Tender] pulled some kind of Benjamin Button stunt or what? Who is that?"
"He's some new kid. Since they're opening the new place, [The Bar Tender] is gone all the time. I think he's here to stay, but listen Liz, don't even think about it. It's not a good match."
"I don't... I didn't say anything about a match, alright? Just calm down....... so why isn't it a good match?"
"He seems like the player type, if you ask me."
"Why? Did he say something?"
"No. Just the extroversion.... the overly friendly personality..."
I glanced over at him to try and size him up. He saw this and gave the most ridiculous cheesy smile/overly enthusiastic wave/bow combo from across the bar. I laughed and gave a slight nod in return.
"Wait. You're basing this on him being friendly? Get the fuck out. Anyway, even if he is a player. I mean it's understandable. Look at him -- he's cute as hell. He's definitely got a girlfriend."
"Liz...."
Smalltown had some important girlfriend-based problems he was trying to discuss with me and was not amused by the fact that I had gotten distracted. "No. I hear you. I do. But you know, even if he is a player, all the better."
"What?! You hate that kind of...."
"No. I mean like the gross ones who think they're super hot and get off on mistreating and upsetting women, that's one thing. But the ones who just are that way. I mean, you can't get upset about it."
"What are you even talking about right now? Are you telling me you don't get jealous? That's bullshit. And anyway, with that kid, I just know there would be all kinds of games and drama and you wouldn't be able to tolerate it for five seconds."
"No of course I get jealous. Just not in a situation where I expect there to be other girls from the start. And... wait what do you mean games and drama?"
"He's definitely the type to not text for a week just to stir up trouble and psych you out."
"Oh whatever. Like I'm not familiar with that game."
"Yeah but you hate that shit."
"Yeah, I hate it. But it doesn't get to me. Other than just being irritated."
"You are pretty fucking stubborn."
"Right. There's no way anyone can win that game with me anyway, so it's fine."
"But... why are we even talking about this? I still don't get why you say a player is better than a nice guy."
"I'm not saying 'better' -- just easier."
"Oh, this I have to hear...."
"No I mean, think about it. With a player, you know exactly what you're getting. You know exactly what to expect, and you know exactly how much of what comes out of their mouths you can trust. With a nice guy.... now, see it's the nice guys that really make me uncomfortable."
"WHY?"
"Because with a nice guy, you always have to wonder, 'Is he really a nice guy, or is he a player and I've fallen for it?'"
"....Oh. That makes sense, actually."
"See? Oh man wait I have to go. Watch my beer!"
The kid, who we'll call CP, had stepped out on the porch for a smoke break. This was my chance.
"Wait! Hey! Am I not invited?!"
"Come if you want to! I just have to...."
Jesus. The boys are all on board for me helping them out with the girls, which they often fucking need, by the way, due to the fact that a group of drunk foreign men swaggering over to a table of Korean women in a bar aren't always thought to be the most upstanding guys -- it helps a lot to have a girl (space) friend to go over and smooth things over, start the conversation first. Especially when that girl can speak a hell of a lot more Korean than they can. But in the rare instance when the situation's reversed, they can't seem to do anything but whine.
Well, you know what they say. You want a job done right.....
I stepped out on the porch and CP immediately leaned over to light my cigarette. "You shouldn't doing yourself...."
"Huh?"
"Ah. Eesh.... nothing."
"Thank you."
"Oh it's my pleasure! Where are you from?"
"The US."
"Ah! The US....A! United States.... of America?"
"Right. Aren't you cold?" He had his sweater up around his neck and his arms covered with nothing but a t shirt.
"Oh... my.... body is not cold. But my neck." He cuddled down into the sweater. "My neck gets very cold."
At this point I noticed that he has the adorable habit of only making a couple of seconds of eye contact before blinking like mad, raising his eyebrows and looking away.
"So, are you a student?"
"No, no. Just I am working.... here...."
"Hm."
"And I like to play sports."
"Oh really? What sports do you like?"
He looked off into the middle distance and counted on his fingers: "I like riding a motorcycle, swimming, and reading a book."
"Oh yeah?"
"Hobbies!" He grabbed my arm. "Those are my hobbies!"
"Haha. Hobbies. Right. 취미." Player? Are you serious? Like hell, he is.
"Especially I like riding a motorcycle. When you have that underneath you, in your head... the power... just bang!" Biggest, most childish grin I've ever seen on anyone over the age of 21. You've got to be fucking kidding me.
We went back inside.
Smalltown: "You little fucking minx....."
"What? He's not a player, by the way."
Later that night, Smalltown's friend who's wanted to meet me for some time finally stopped by. She's cool as hell. She'll be JH and you'll definitely be hearing more about her. She knows I want to learn Korean, so when she speaks to me, she speaks in Korean first, and then repeats it in English -- the most helpful thing I've experienced yet. She was wrapped up in some drama with an American halfsie (mother Korean, father American) who was acting like an ass. We got talking about men and it was seriously nice not to be having that conversation with a guy for once. I explained the players-are-easier theory to her so she could confirm this with Smalltown, who was still in shock and awe of the whole thing, and she said she had never, ever thought of it that way before, but that I was exactly right.
Then she caught me perving on CP. "You know him well?"
"Nah, tonight's my first time to see him. But he's fucking cute, isn't he?"
"Yes! I'm so surprised you can see that!"
"What?"
"Most Western girls can't see when a Korean man is good looking. Just, they don't like them. Even if they really are good looking."
"Well, they're stupid."
"You want him?"
"Nonono. Just met him tonight. Don't know anything about him. I'm just looking. Anyway, I'm sure he has a girlfriend."
"Don't be so sure."
When he came over to bring our drinks, she asked him in Korean if he had a girlfriend. He went bright red and sort of hid his face in his sweater and answered that he didn't. She then asked him if he was 바람둥이 and he almost fell over with embarrassment, denying it. I pretended not to understand the whole exchange. When he walked away, JH turned to me and said, "알았어?"
"Yeah."
There were a couple of other foreign guys we know from around in at that point, and when we went out for a smoke, they were asking what the whole exchange was about. "Oh just I think that guy behind the bar is cute, so she was asking about if he had a girlfriend or not."
"Wait... she thinks that guy is cute (pointing to the Korean girl)?"
Now, these guys have seen me in there on several different nights with The Baby, The Baby's friend, The Korean Bodybuilder, The Boxer and various other Korean guys. And they're good guys. But somehow they still can't get it through their heads that it's possible for a Western woman to find a Korean man attractive.
"No. I do."
"Oh... you do? Oh yeah. That's cool.... likin' the Korean guys. That's totally cool."
"What?"
Other guy: "Man that guy is like totally gay!"
"Yeah I have to go now. You guys have a good night. I'll see you soon."
This morning I got a text from JH:
"안녕. 어제 잘 놀았어? 그 남자 제정신 아니야ㅠㅠ 나중에 설명해줄께^^ㅋ 너 시간날때 만나자. i was too shocked! u'll be surprised how crazy he is."
"언니 안녕하세요! 그 남자 나쁜놈이야? you'll be surprised how not surprised ill be. 한국에 외국 미친놈 많이 있어요. 다음 시간에 난 다 듣고싶어요. 언니 걱정하지마세요. there are good guys out there. somewhere. ^^"
"히히^^ 고마워 ~ 어제 잘보냈길바래. 우드스탁 자주가서 그 남자 자주 봐 ^^ㅋ 다음에 우드스탁같이가자^^"
She's a keeper.
11.29.2009
11.28.2009
Scary text; good night.
haha cute i wanna brush ur teeth ^-^
Well, that's a.... new one.
Good lord. Deleted.
After a grueling day of scrubbing my apartment and lesson planning, it's time for a night out with the boys at the old local. Haven't been down there for roughly.... well, god, for about a month and a half. But today I think I've earned it.
Have a good night, darlin's, wherever you be.
Well, that's a.... new one.
Good lord. Deleted.
After a grueling day of scrubbing my apartment and lesson planning, it's time for a night out with the boys at the old local. Haven't been down there for roughly.... well, god, for about a month and a half. But today I think I've earned it.
Have a good night, darlin's, wherever you be.
Silence is easy.
What am I doing today? Looking like this in my pajamas and getting some serious lesson planning done. It's almost winter camp time again. Lovely. Also, hopefully finishing Murakami's Kafka on the Shores. I think this makes like the eighth Murakami book I've read since I got here.
Speaking of books, I still need to get my ass out to Kyobo. Tomorrow, probably. For now, this will do:
Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.
11.27.2009
2 things.
1. The superintendent or some other such... whatever she fucking is canceled the meeting we were supposed to have about winter vacation on the business trip today. But she did manage to tell us that we needed to not do drugs.
Fucking bitch. Go hang yourself with your stockings.
I could get into the whole fucking issue, here, believe me -- I could. But what it all comes back to is pretty much summed up by the line above. I love my school and my co-teachers, and I mostly appreciate my district's OE, but if they say one more condescending bigoted thing at one of these meetings, I might have to write a letter or something. I'm not a goddamn teenager. Or a moron. And if you think that the people YOU are hiring and putting inside your schools to work with your children on a daily basis are the type who would come to Korea and be doing drugs, as a school teacher, willy-nilly, then you need to have a seriously condescending conversation with yourself. Not with me.
2. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. I don't have to let anyone into my home who I don't want in my home. I don't have to see anyone I don't want to see. I'm going out with my friends tonight. Fuck the rest. No more trouble. No more pressure.
That having been said, I'm going to get a couple of hours of snoozing in now, before I head out into what is looking to be an increasingly dire weather situation. Now if only the guy selling oranges from a truck in front of my apartment would pipe down.
(And, just like magic, the speaker fades away down the street.)
Fucking bitch. Go hang yourself with your stockings.
I could get into the whole fucking issue, here, believe me -- I could. But what it all comes back to is pretty much summed up by the line above. I love my school and my co-teachers, and I mostly appreciate my district's OE, but if they say one more condescending bigoted thing at one of these meetings, I might have to write a letter or something. I'm not a goddamn teenager. Or a moron. And if you think that the people YOU are hiring and putting inside your schools to work with your children on a daily basis are the type who would come to Korea and be doing drugs, as a school teacher, willy-nilly, then you need to have a seriously condescending conversation with yourself. Not with me.
2. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. I don't have to let anyone into my home who I don't want in my home. I don't have to see anyone I don't want to see. I'm going out with my friends tonight. Fuck the rest. No more trouble. No more pressure.
That having been said, I'm going to get a couple of hours of snoozing in now, before I head out into what is looking to be an increasingly dire weather situation. Now if only the guy selling oranges from a truck in front of my apartment would pipe down.
(And, just like magic, the speaker fades away down the street.)
11.26.2009
Love.
Well, I guess I did enough whinging on the internet the last couple of days that my nearest and dearest decided to pipe up en masse today to let me know that they're around. I'm satisfied. And feeling a lot better.
Today I also got a gift from one of Coteacher's homeroom students -- the class I'm obviously closest with. Jell-o! Strawberry. His aunt sent it from America and he shyly gave it to Coteacher to pass on to me, after consulting with her to make sure that I wouldn't think it was strange. Coteacher assured him, "She's American! It will maybe remind her of her childhood. It is a very good gift." When I went down to find him this morning and thank him, he acted like a total goose, hiding behind his friend, turning red and refusing to talk to me. Boys.
The students were WAY too amped up today, thanks to the physical tests they'd endured for the better half of the morning. I did my best to speed through the sit-still-and-listen part of the lessons, so we could get on to the part where they can talk and run around and be active. They are so completely full of joy and energy. Of all the things I'm thankful for this past year, they are definitely at the top of the list.
Today, at lunch, Coteacher told me that some of the third graders had been talking comparisons between me and the former foreign teacher. Of course, being a closeted extremely jealous person, my ears pricked up. She said that all they remembered about her was that she always carried around a 1.5 L bottle of Coca-cola (which, oddly, I've heard from other teachers before...), never took a single bite of Korean food, and that she was constantly calling them stupid. Well, what they said was that she called them stupid, and then clarified with the fact that she often said, "Why do you do such stupid things?"
Coteacher explained that they were quite offended about this, and that she tried to explain to them that she maybe didn't mean that they were stupid, but just that they are always running around, wrestling, touching each other, screaming and giggling. To her, being accustomed to Western students of the same age, the behavior maybe came across as quite childish. Their answer to this was, "Yes, but Liz Teacher never thinks we are stupid. Liz Teacher likes us." Insert ridiculous Korean emoticon ^^ thing here. I am the winner. Thank you.
It just goes to show that no matter what our impressions are, our students are extremely sensitive to our opinions of and behavior toward them. Which is why it makes me upset when I hear about foreign teachers who treat their students like a job, and nothing more. It's been over a year since that foreign teacher was in the school, and she only taught those boys for a month, yet they are still talking about this with some evident sensitivity.
In that same vein, I've had my low level second graders again this week and we keep moving further and further ahead together. This week, I decided to push them a little bit, even though, with the lower level boys, this can have some disastrous results if they aren't able to eventually succeed. They are so dead set on believing that they can't.
This week has seen me on my knees -- literally. This has a strong effect, because it's the position the teachers put the students in when they have done something that they must be shamed and apologize for. But I've found it's extremely important to get as close, physically, as I can to these students, and put myself in a physical position where I'm looking up into their eyes, rather than standing over them. It's the only way to get them to focus and stop looking off any other place that they can to avoid having to speak in English. Then, just slowly pushing for an answer to a simple question -- a question that they can understand through watching my body language alone. I won't settle for not getting an answer: "What time do you go to bed? No. Look at me. What time (watch pointing) do you go to bed (miming sleep)? (Writing in their books) 10 o'clock? 11 o'clock? 12 o'clock?" They will eventually point to a number. "11 o'clock! You go to bed at 11 o'clock? Me, too! Good job! High five! See? You can do it. Teamwork. We can do it, together. 우리는 같이 수있어요. 맞아요?" A big shoulder rub and they're all grins.
It's okay, guys. It really is okay.
I also got into it with some of my B level first graders today, who were being all goosey and shy. We've been voting on the number one robot in each class, and to stop the nonsense that was going on with unpopular boys getting low scores, and the class kings getting high ones, and to also increase the class participation of the activity, and require them to speak somewhat spontaneously, I instituted a rule that if you gave 5 points, okay. If you gave 4 points, okay. If you gave 3 points, you had to give one reason why. If you gave 2 points, you had to give 2 reasons why, and if you gave only 1 point, you had to give 3 reasons why. Because some of the students were way in the back, I couldn't hear their reasons the first time, and once I said, "What?" it was back to the typical shut-down response.
"Guys guys guys guys. Listen. This is important. (Whispering)Can you hear me right now? Can you understand what I'm saying. (Back to teacher voice) Did you understand?"
"No!"
"Why? Because I speak bad English?"
"Haha Teacher no!"
"No? Why not then?"
"Teacher voice very small!"
"Right! And when you speak English, sometimes you get shy. And your voice is very small, too. And then I can't hear you. It's not bad English -- your English is very good! But I can't hear you, sometimes. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Haha yes Teacher!"
"Okay. So. When I say, 'What?' don't get all shy and go (hiding my face in my jacket). Okay?"
"Okay!"
Love.
Today I also got a gift from one of Coteacher's homeroom students -- the class I'm obviously closest with. Jell-o! Strawberry. His aunt sent it from America and he shyly gave it to Coteacher to pass on to me, after consulting with her to make sure that I wouldn't think it was strange. Coteacher assured him, "She's American! It will maybe remind her of her childhood. It is a very good gift." When I went down to find him this morning and thank him, he acted like a total goose, hiding behind his friend, turning red and refusing to talk to me. Boys.
The students were WAY too amped up today, thanks to the physical tests they'd endured for the better half of the morning. I did my best to speed through the sit-still-and-listen part of the lessons, so we could get on to the part where they can talk and run around and be active. They are so completely full of joy and energy. Of all the things I'm thankful for this past year, they are definitely at the top of the list.
Today, at lunch, Coteacher told me that some of the third graders had been talking comparisons between me and the former foreign teacher. Of course, being a closeted extremely jealous person, my ears pricked up. She said that all they remembered about her was that she always carried around a 1.5 L bottle of Coca-cola (which, oddly, I've heard from other teachers before...), never took a single bite of Korean food, and that she was constantly calling them stupid. Well, what they said was that she called them stupid, and then clarified with the fact that she often said, "Why do you do such stupid things?"
Coteacher explained that they were quite offended about this, and that she tried to explain to them that she maybe didn't mean that they were stupid, but just that they are always running around, wrestling, touching each other, screaming and giggling. To her, being accustomed to Western students of the same age, the behavior maybe came across as quite childish. Their answer to this was, "Yes, but Liz Teacher never thinks we are stupid. Liz Teacher likes us." Insert ridiculous Korean emoticon ^^ thing here. I am the winner. Thank you.
It just goes to show that no matter what our impressions are, our students are extremely sensitive to our opinions of and behavior toward them. Which is why it makes me upset when I hear about foreign teachers who treat their students like a job, and nothing more. It's been over a year since that foreign teacher was in the school, and she only taught those boys for a month, yet they are still talking about this with some evident sensitivity.
In that same vein, I've had my low level second graders again this week and we keep moving further and further ahead together. This week, I decided to push them a little bit, even though, with the lower level boys, this can have some disastrous results if they aren't able to eventually succeed. They are so dead set on believing that they can't.
This week has seen me on my knees -- literally. This has a strong effect, because it's the position the teachers put the students in when they have done something that they must be shamed and apologize for. But I've found it's extremely important to get as close, physically, as I can to these students, and put myself in a physical position where I'm looking up into their eyes, rather than standing over them. It's the only way to get them to focus and stop looking off any other place that they can to avoid having to speak in English. Then, just slowly pushing for an answer to a simple question -- a question that they can understand through watching my body language alone. I won't settle for not getting an answer: "What time do you go to bed? No. Look at me. What time (watch pointing) do you go to bed (miming sleep)? (Writing in their books) 10 o'clock? 11 o'clock? 12 o'clock?" They will eventually point to a number. "11 o'clock! You go to bed at 11 o'clock? Me, too! Good job! High five! See? You can do it. Teamwork. We can do it, together. 우리는 같이 수있어요. 맞아요?" A big shoulder rub and they're all grins.
It's okay, guys. It really is okay.
I also got into it with some of my B level first graders today, who were being all goosey and shy. We've been voting on the number one robot in each class, and to stop the nonsense that was going on with unpopular boys getting low scores, and the class kings getting high ones, and to also increase the class participation of the activity, and require them to speak somewhat spontaneously, I instituted a rule that if you gave 5 points, okay. If you gave 4 points, okay. If you gave 3 points, you had to give one reason why. If you gave 2 points, you had to give 2 reasons why, and if you gave only 1 point, you had to give 3 reasons why. Because some of the students were way in the back, I couldn't hear their reasons the first time, and once I said, "What?" it was back to the typical shut-down response.
"Guys guys guys guys. Listen. This is important. (Whispering)Can you hear me right now? Can you understand what I'm saying. (Back to teacher voice) Did you understand?"
"No!"
"Why? Because I speak bad English?"
"Haha Teacher no!"
"No? Why not then?"
"Teacher voice very small!"
"Right! And when you speak English, sometimes you get shy. And your voice is very small, too. And then I can't hear you. It's not bad English -- your English is very good! But I can't hear you, sometimes. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Haha yes Teacher!"
"Okay. So. When I say, 'What?' don't get all shy and go (hiding my face in my jacket). Okay?"
"Okay!"
Love.
11.25.2009
..................
In a correction to the previous post, I would just like to say that it is NOT illegal to volunteer in the ROK on an E2 visa. Apparently, it used to be, but is not anymore. This seems to be one of those ongoing 외국인 rumors. There seem to be a few nice opportunities out there for foreigners who want to volunteer (including an organization called H.O.P.E, which seeks to offer English learning opportunities for those young people in Seoul whose families cannot afford to compete), but I feel like I haven't hit upon exactly what I'm looking for yet. Although I'm down with teaching English, I can't help but feel like it might not be the best idea, given my current workload, to take on more lesson planning and classroom time at the moment. I really don't want to get burnt out. And I would like to find something that's at least a little bit of a change of pace from what I do all day, every day.
There are always the orphanages, one of which I may take a trip to on Saturday, just to see how it is, but come on -- who doesn't want to help orphans? I'd prefer to go a less conventional route, if possible -- do something that other people don't necessarily want to do. I'm thinking juvie home/prison work, but god only knows if those kind of programs even exist in the ROK. They barely exist back home.
That one thing that just feels right hasn't jumped out at me yet. I'll keep trolling.
Other news? There's not a lot, other than a kind of general sense of blah, as things back home are not stupendous at the moment, and tomorrow is that big holiday and stuff. I've spent the last few days exchanging literally hundreds of texts with people who just don't matter to me at all. It doesn't help you to feel less lonely to have a lot of contact with people you don't care about, versus a little contact with people you do. Or at least, it doesn't help me.
Hopefully volunteering will not only help keep me out of trouble, but also help me to meet a few like-minded souls, versus the dozens of vapid Englishee half-wits I seem to be surrounded by at the moment.
Oops. I mean. Something less awful sounding than that.
Ignore me. Just a rough patch, kiddos. Once we make it through the holidays, I think things will get better.
There are always the orphanages, one of which I may take a trip to on Saturday, just to see how it is, but come on -- who doesn't want to help orphans? I'd prefer to go a less conventional route, if possible -- do something that other people don't necessarily want to do. I'm thinking juvie home/prison work, but god only knows if those kind of programs even exist in the ROK. They barely exist back home.
That one thing that just feels right hasn't jumped out at me yet. I'll keep trolling.
Other news? There's not a lot, other than a kind of general sense of blah, as things back home are not stupendous at the moment, and tomorrow is that big holiday and stuff. I've spent the last few days exchanging literally hundreds of texts with people who just don't matter to me at all. It doesn't help you to feel less lonely to have a lot of contact with people you don't care about, versus a little contact with people you do. Or at least, it doesn't help me.
Hopefully volunteering will not only help keep me out of trouble, but also help me to meet a few like-minded souls, versus the dozens of vapid Englishee half-wits I seem to be surrounded by at the moment.
Oops. I mean. Something less awful sounding than that.
Ignore me. Just a rough patch, kiddos. Once we make it through the holidays, I think things will get better.
11.24.2009
Random.
First and foremost, reposting this so that anyone who has any information (or for those of you who have more far-reaching circles, if you'd be so kind as to re-post) can help:
Saturday night around 3 am a white limousine pulled up along side my friends little sister in haebangchon when 2 Koreans/Korean Americans (spoke English) got out and forced her into the car.
There were a total of 4 guys, around 30 years of age, in the car who proceeded to try and rape her.
She fought back but because of this she got herself beaten up really badly.
They then threw her out of the moving car and was left unconscious in the street.
If you know anything about 4 guys who were out on Saturday in a white limousine please contact me.
토 요일밤(일요일 새벽) 오전 3시경 해방촌 부근에서 흰색 리무진이 제 친구의 여동생 옆에서 멈춰서더니, 2명의 한국인과 2명의 교포(영어사용)가 차에서 나와 강제로 여동생을 차에 태웠습니다. 총 4명의 남자가 있었고 나이는 30살 정도였습니다. 그들은 그녀를 강간하려고 했고 그녀는 그들과 싸웠습니다. 하지만 그 과정에서 그녀는 많이 다쳤고 그들은 그녀를 달리는 차에서 집어던졌습니다. 그녀는 무의식 상태로 길에 남겨졌습니다.
혹시 이 4명에 대해서 아시거나 목격하신 분은 저에게 연락주시기 바랍니다.
If you have any information that might help apprehend these people ,please contact laura at:
primodjp @ hotmail.com
Terrible stuff. Ladies, please remember that we're not in our hometowns anymore. I'm not an alarmist of any kind. I used to wander around Brooklyn at all hours of the morning (in all states of intoxication) completely alone. But. We are highly visible here, and the media, as foreign females, is not our friend. People know that we mostly live alone, and that our families are far, far away. Be careful, please.
In other news, my great aunt Opal has passed. I'll be spending the evening waiting for an all-clear that the family has woken up and is going about their business, so that I can make a few long distance phone calls, and try to be there for them in the only way that I can. This woman did not live an easy life, and was my grandmother's last connecting link to a life full of hardship that they had in common, and supported each other throughout. This is not going to be an easy one, and that dear woman, who has supported me through so much, has already had enough shit to swallow for ten lifetimes. The best part is that this week is Thanksgiving.
I know. I know. But sometimes you can't help but feel angry.
Whichever way you, dear readers, are inclined to send your positive thoughts, please do so.
Also: I know it's technically illegal (thanks a lot, E2 visa), but if any of you (I'm looking at you, Diana!) have an information about how to go about volunteering in this country, please leave it in the comment section below. I've already got Coteacher on board for helping me make the phone calls to the local community centers in Korean. While I'm not opposed to (and rather prefer) physical labor, I think my (lack of) Korean would probably cause too much undue stress and complication. I'm thinking along the lines of orphanage/shelter/prison/juvie home teaching, which is where I think I would be most useful. Let a girl know. I need something to get my mind off of the recent nonsense that has been festering and ballooning to ridiculous proportions over the course of the last few weeks.
Sorry things have gotten so random here. There's a lot going on at the moment, as you can guess. We'll get back to our regular scheduled programming soon, I hope.
In the spirit of gossip, to feed your weary little souls, I'll recount the ridiculousness that has begun to spring up between me and my male co-teacher.
This guy's been dead awkward since he first arrived in March, save for the one business trip we took together, which saw me chattering incessantly in some sort of freakishly overly socially adept version of my normal, bordering-on-awkward, reserved personality -- I had been dreading the business trip for weeks. And while I usually just let awkwardness ride, I knew I would be co-teaching with him soon and really didn't want the awkwardness to carry over to class, where our delicate little orchid students would be sure to pick up on (and feed off of) it. So I tried. Really hard. And it was a nice day. That saw him admitting (for some reason) that Brokeback Mountain is one of his favorite movies of all time (hey, at least we know he doesn't have the Korean homophobe gene).
Then we started teaching together. It's been pretty good, so far. The students don't fuck around with the male teachers as much. Soon came the weird "I want to take you to an island on the weekend in my car to eat eel" invitations, which, although I wasn't exactly pissing myself with excitement about the idea, I was willing to tolerate for the sake of classroom serenity. But, it came right around the time I was preparing to go home for a visit, and things kept popping up on the weekends, so I had to keep postponing. Finally, while we were recording the third graders' listening test together in the media room after school one day, he kind of exploded with, "I just want to take you for nice meal!"
Um. Okay. But I'm leaving for the US on Friday. Sorry?
Now he's started hanging around after our classes finish to talk, and things have been pretty normal. He broke a rib doing some kind of martial arts (???) last week and, when I asked how he was feeling the next day, gave me absolutely no warning before lifting up his entire shirt to show me how his lower torso was wrapped with a bandage. Thank god no students were walking past outside. Then came, "Christmas makes me so sad because is couples' day and I don't have any girlfriends" and "So, do you have plans for Christmas?"
And today, we got to talking about some of the students who have been passed up to him (B level) from the other young co-teacher (C level), not because their English has improved, but because they were causing too much damn trouble. Suddenly, what were the loudest students in my C classes have become the most depressed, mopey students in my B classes. I commented to him that they knew Super Fun Time was officially over.
The look on his face told me he hadn't taken it as the compliment I had intended -- I know how to make sure the students have a good time in class, but my discipline skills are still lacking. I need him there for that. It took me a good half of class today to get them with their heads up off their desks and participating with interest, but I can manage that. What I can't manage is to conduct a truly smooth class with these assclowns climbing all over everything and shouting out, "HEY MAN!" and other various random English phrases whenever the fancy strikes them.
Anyway, he suddenly asked me if I was a good student when I was in school. Which he has actually asked me before. I hesitated to answer -- I never disrupted classes or showed disrespect to my teachers. I never felt the need to draw attention to myself. And I always, always made top scores. But. I wasn't exactly every teacher's favorite student -- I made a habit of missing class whenever I could get away with it, and some teachers were infuriated at my ability to find ways around the attendance system, and still make top scores, so that I couldn't be penalized. I was never outright disrespectful, but there are at least a few teachers who I know remember me for my defiance, anyway.
After that, he asked about how my Korean is coming along. I explained how my listening has continued to improve bit by bit, but that I still can't make myself speak. I mentioned listening in on conversations with S and C, and he asked, "Oh. One of them is your boyfriend? Do you have a boyfriend in Korea?" Which is sort of one of those bombs of a question, that's hard to follow up on and can quickly disrupt the flow of the conversation. Especially when the answer is, "No."
"Oh. Not yet?"
Something about "not yet" tickled me. I still haven't worked out exactly what it was, but at any rate, I let out a pretty genuine, spontaneous laugh and said, "No. Not yet." At which point he went a bit red, and repeated the phrase back to himself, thinking he had done something strange with his English.
Awkward silence. And then, "When did you first know you wanted to be a teacher?" Sometimes talking to him feels like filling out a survey, but I appreciate his intentions to manage to make something other than small talk during our ten minute breaks between classes. It came out, at this point, that he wanted to be a writer. Oh. Me, too. Have you ever written a poem? Actually, that's what I majored in. Oh. Do you keep a journal on the internet?
Haha. No. I definitely do not. Too many people can read the internet. Why would I do a stupid thing like that?
Saturday night around 3 am a white limousine pulled up along side my friends little sister in haebangchon when 2 Koreans/Korean Americans (spoke English) got out and forced her into the car.
There were a total of 4 guys, around 30 years of age, in the car who proceeded to try and rape her.
She fought back but because of this she got herself beaten up really badly.
They then threw her out of the moving car and was left unconscious in the street.
If you know anything about 4 guys who were out on Saturday in a white limousine please contact me.
토 요일밤(일요일 새벽) 오전 3시경 해방촌 부근에서 흰색 리무진이 제 친구의 여동생 옆에서 멈춰서더니, 2명의 한국인과 2명의 교포(영어사용)가 차에서 나와 강제로 여동생을 차에 태웠습니다. 총 4명의 남자가 있었고 나이는 30살 정도였습니다. 그들은 그녀를 강간하려고 했고 그녀는 그들과 싸웠습니다. 하지만 그 과정에서 그녀는 많이 다쳤고 그들은 그녀를 달리는 차에서 집어던졌습니다. 그녀는 무의식 상태로 길에 남겨졌습니다.
혹시 이 4명에 대해서 아시거나 목격하신 분은 저에게 연락주시기 바랍니다.
If you have any information that might help apprehend these people ,please contact laura at:
primodjp @ hotmail.com
Terrible stuff. Ladies, please remember that we're not in our hometowns anymore. I'm not an alarmist of any kind. I used to wander around Brooklyn at all hours of the morning (in all states of intoxication) completely alone. But. We are highly visible here, and the media, as foreign females, is not our friend. People know that we mostly live alone, and that our families are far, far away. Be careful, please.
In other news, my great aunt Opal has passed. I'll be spending the evening waiting for an all-clear that the family has woken up and is going about their business, so that I can make a few long distance phone calls, and try to be there for them in the only way that I can. This woman did not live an easy life, and was my grandmother's last connecting link to a life full of hardship that they had in common, and supported each other throughout. This is not going to be an easy one, and that dear woman, who has supported me through so much, has already had enough shit to swallow for ten lifetimes. The best part is that this week is Thanksgiving.
I know. I know. But sometimes you can't help but feel angry.
Whichever way you, dear readers, are inclined to send your positive thoughts, please do so.
Also: I know it's technically illegal (thanks a lot, E2 visa), but if any of you (I'm looking at you, Diana!) have an information about how to go about volunteering in this country, please leave it in the comment section below. I've already got Coteacher on board for helping me make the phone calls to the local community centers in Korean. While I'm not opposed to (and rather prefer) physical labor, I think my (lack of) Korean would probably cause too much undue stress and complication. I'm thinking along the lines of orphanage/shelter/prison/juvie home teaching, which is where I think I would be most useful. Let a girl know. I need something to get my mind off of the recent nonsense that has been festering and ballooning to ridiculous proportions over the course of the last few weeks.
Sorry things have gotten so random here. There's a lot going on at the moment, as you can guess. We'll get back to our regular scheduled programming soon, I hope.
In the spirit of gossip, to feed your weary little souls, I'll recount the ridiculousness that has begun to spring up between me and my male co-teacher.
This guy's been dead awkward since he first arrived in March, save for the one business trip we took together, which saw me chattering incessantly in some sort of freakishly overly socially adept version of my normal, bordering-on-awkward, reserved personality -- I had been dreading the business trip for weeks. And while I usually just let awkwardness ride, I knew I would be co-teaching with him soon and really didn't want the awkwardness to carry over to class, where our delicate little orchid students would be sure to pick up on (and feed off of) it. So I tried. Really hard. And it was a nice day. That saw him admitting (for some reason) that Brokeback Mountain is one of his favorite movies of all time (hey, at least we know he doesn't have the Korean homophobe gene).
Then we started teaching together. It's been pretty good, so far. The students don't fuck around with the male teachers as much. Soon came the weird "I want to take you to an island on the weekend in my car to eat eel" invitations, which, although I wasn't exactly pissing myself with excitement about the idea, I was willing to tolerate for the sake of classroom serenity. But, it came right around the time I was preparing to go home for a visit, and things kept popping up on the weekends, so I had to keep postponing. Finally, while we were recording the third graders' listening test together in the media room after school one day, he kind of exploded with, "I just want to take you for nice meal!"
Um. Okay. But I'm leaving for the US on Friday. Sorry?
Now he's started hanging around after our classes finish to talk, and things have been pretty normal. He broke a rib doing some kind of martial arts (???) last week and, when I asked how he was feeling the next day, gave me absolutely no warning before lifting up his entire shirt to show me how his lower torso was wrapped with a bandage. Thank god no students were walking past outside. Then came, "Christmas makes me so sad because is couples' day and I don't have any girlfriends" and "So, do you have plans for Christmas?"
And today, we got to talking about some of the students who have been passed up to him (B level) from the other young co-teacher (C level), not because their English has improved, but because they were causing too much damn trouble. Suddenly, what were the loudest students in my C classes have become the most depressed, mopey students in my B classes. I commented to him that they knew Super Fun Time was officially over.
The look on his face told me he hadn't taken it as the compliment I had intended -- I know how to make sure the students have a good time in class, but my discipline skills are still lacking. I need him there for that. It took me a good half of class today to get them with their heads up off their desks and participating with interest, but I can manage that. What I can't manage is to conduct a truly smooth class with these assclowns climbing all over everything and shouting out, "HEY MAN!" and other various random English phrases whenever the fancy strikes them.
Anyway, he suddenly asked me if I was a good student when I was in school. Which he has actually asked me before. I hesitated to answer -- I never disrupted classes or showed disrespect to my teachers. I never felt the need to draw attention to myself. And I always, always made top scores. But. I wasn't exactly every teacher's favorite student -- I made a habit of missing class whenever I could get away with it, and some teachers were infuriated at my ability to find ways around the attendance system, and still make top scores, so that I couldn't be penalized. I was never outright disrespectful, but there are at least a few teachers who I know remember me for my defiance, anyway.
After that, he asked about how my Korean is coming along. I explained how my listening has continued to improve bit by bit, but that I still can't make myself speak. I mentioned listening in on conversations with S and C, and he asked, "Oh. One of them is your boyfriend? Do you have a boyfriend in Korea?" Which is sort of one of those bombs of a question, that's hard to follow up on and can quickly disrupt the flow of the conversation. Especially when the answer is, "No."
"Oh. Not yet?"
Something about "not yet" tickled me. I still haven't worked out exactly what it was, but at any rate, I let out a pretty genuine, spontaneous laugh and said, "No. Not yet." At which point he went a bit red, and repeated the phrase back to himself, thinking he had done something strange with his English.
Awkward silence. And then, "When did you first know you wanted to be a teacher?" Sometimes talking to him feels like filling out a survey, but I appreciate his intentions to manage to make something other than small talk during our ten minute breaks between classes. It came out, at this point, that he wanted to be a writer. Oh. Me, too. Have you ever written a poem? Actually, that's what I majored in. Oh. Do you keep a journal on the internet?
Haha. No. I definitely do not. Too many people can read the internet. Why would I do a stupid thing like that?
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