When four boys you haven't heard from in a while all send you a text within thirty minutes, just to ask how you are, you've got to think it's something cosmic.
The next morning, when you answer them all, and no one sends any back, you've got to think it's something personal.
Maybe I should start working on responding to texts when I actually receive them.
Never mind. Even if Small Town is going out of town for the weekend, I'll find someone to spend Friday night with. I always do.
7.28.2009
An interesting development.
A few months back I mentioned something that sounded like I may be teaching classes minus a co-teacher come the new semester. At the time, this suggestion did not please me, as I was knee-deep in the nightmare after school classes, where things were not going well. My co-teacher also seemed a bit nervous about this suggestion at the time, given the after school class situation. However, once that after school class got turned around, and after camps have gone absolutely brilliantly (first graders, twelve students, no co-teacher, three and half hours a day... not one single problem with communication, behavior or the students being at all unhappy with the curriculum) both I and my co-teachers have a new-found confidence in my ability to handle classes on my own.
It turns out that the suggestion is even more serious than it sounded before. What the co-teachers seem to be ironing out, at the moment, is the idea that I would move down to teaching only first grade, and would, in fact, have my own classes. In the sense that the classes would be split into three, and would rotate through all of the English teachers (including me) equally. This means that, instead of seeing the little buggers for forty-five minutes once a week or every two weeks, I would get just as much classroom time with the students as the Korean teachers. Class sizes would be around 15 each, which is, in my experience, completely manageable, no matter what little turds you may end up with in the mix.
It also means I can forgo second semester with the second graders, half of which seem to have performed a coup in their English classes and taken over entirely (tormenting the Korean English teacher to the extent that my classes have become impossible to teach with her in the room, as the students spend the entire time shouting out abuse at her, and won't settle down and participate in the lesson until she leaves -- I'm not kidding). Which is fine by me. I'll see them again in the winter when they've become pressurized third graders under the ever-watchful eyes of the love-stick-wielding PE teachers, who will be "loving" them enough to guide them onto the correct path to becoming proper, socially responsible Korean "men".
It all sounds a little scary, and I did manage to slip into the conversation that, technically, I'm not supposed to be teaching without a Korean teacher, in case I need to fall back on that argument later. But I'm willing to give this new system a try. It could be better, over all, for all of us. And if this model somehow works, who knows? It could be a great way of better integrating the foreign teachers into the system eventually. Not that I'm not aware that we are not meant to be integrated, overall -- we're supposed to be temporary. But at the moment, they'll never be rid of us, if they don't find a way to use us more effectively.
I've never heard of a foreign teacher being used in this way. I know my co-teacher, who is infinitely more experienced both in language learning and language education than I am, is not a fan of level teaching. She finds that it leaves the lower students behind in the dust. I can't say I've had a chance to form my own opinions yet. I can say that working with levels makes your job as an English-only speaking instructor infinitely easier.
At the moment, I'm occupied trying to teach myself phonics instruction, as I've been handed five kiddos from the third grade who can't yet read English to help along during the summer vacation. So far, I've managed to keep them happy enough by simply doing listening/repeating and then placing cut outs of all the words on the table, having them race to grab the one I say out loud. But they're sixteen years old. They're going to get bored of that fast. If anyone (ahem -- elementary teachers?) has any suggestions for good phonics activities, please feel more than free to leave them here.
It turns out that the suggestion is even more serious than it sounded before. What the co-teachers seem to be ironing out, at the moment, is the idea that I would move down to teaching only first grade, and would, in fact, have my own classes. In the sense that the classes would be split into three, and would rotate through all of the English teachers (including me) equally. This means that, instead of seeing the little buggers for forty-five minutes once a week or every two weeks, I would get just as much classroom time with the students as the Korean teachers. Class sizes would be around 15 each, which is, in my experience, completely manageable, no matter what little turds you may end up with in the mix.
It also means I can forgo second semester with the second graders, half of which seem to have performed a coup in their English classes and taken over entirely (tormenting the Korean English teacher to the extent that my classes have become impossible to teach with her in the room, as the students spend the entire time shouting out abuse at her, and won't settle down and participate in the lesson until she leaves -- I'm not kidding). Which is fine by me. I'll see them again in the winter when they've become pressurized third graders under the ever-watchful eyes of the love-stick-wielding PE teachers, who will be "loving" them enough to guide them onto the correct path to becoming proper, socially responsible Korean "men".
It all sounds a little scary, and I did manage to slip into the conversation that, technically, I'm not supposed to be teaching without a Korean teacher, in case I need to fall back on that argument later. But I'm willing to give this new system a try. It could be better, over all, for all of us. And if this model somehow works, who knows? It could be a great way of better integrating the foreign teachers into the system eventually. Not that I'm not aware that we are not meant to be integrated, overall -- we're supposed to be temporary. But at the moment, they'll never be rid of us, if they don't find a way to use us more effectively.
I've never heard of a foreign teacher being used in this way. I know my co-teacher, who is infinitely more experienced both in language learning and language education than I am, is not a fan of level teaching. She finds that it leaves the lower students behind in the dust. I can't say I've had a chance to form my own opinions yet. I can say that working with levels makes your job as an English-only speaking instructor infinitely easier.
At the moment, I'm occupied trying to teach myself phonics instruction, as I've been handed five kiddos from the third grade who can't yet read English to help along during the summer vacation. So far, I've managed to keep them happy enough by simply doing listening/repeating and then placing cut outs of all the words on the table, having them race to grab the one I say out loud. But they're sixteen years old. They're going to get bored of that fast. If anyone (ahem -- elementary teachers?) has any suggestions for good phonics activities, please feel more than free to leave them here.
7.27.2009
Better tomorrow.
Every afternoon, without exception, it rains. You don't even think about it anymore. It's just a simple fact of life. Even if the sun is bright and perfect in the morning. To not pack an umbrella is just foolish. It will happen -- whether you have reason to believe it will, or not.
The school is lonely without the students, and you hardly even seen them around the neighborhood anymore, anyway. Everything is just slightly too quiet. Maybe everyone is in Jejudo. I'm not really sure. Today, at my co-teacher's prodding, I came home a bit early from work (after teaching in the morning) because I was in excruciating pain. Finished reading Sputnik Sweetheart in a sort of feverish state, just before nodding off, which is an interesting way to read anything from Murakami. Needless to say, missed another Korean class.
Something screwy's going on with my body, and I want to blame that for this weekend. I kept saying, I don't feel good, not all the way believing it myself and certainly not convincing anyone else, who saw that I seemed perfectly fine, other than being a bit down and not really eating. If they could see me now, they'd believe me. Just legitimately sick. Although I know that one can lead to the other.
Saturday was jumping from gallery to gallery in Insadong, where the only thing that really caught my interest (other than arguing over medium with Small Town, when we couldn't read the placards in Korean) was an exhibition of children's paintings. Everything else just struck me as mediocre at best, completely meaningless at worst, besides the odd painting here and there. The antique shops, overflowing with absolute loads of nonsense, on the other hand, were quite worth the while. As was catching a look at a table on the sidewalk full of hats, surrounded by nearly fifty people, all frantically trying them on. I did manage to find a pair of sunglasses -- well, wait. Let me tell this story as a bit of an aside.
On Monday night, after class, when I met C and J for dinner, I had my sunglasses (which I never wear, due to them being far too big for my face) clipped to my shirt. It had started out a sunny day (although, by then, it was raining) and I figured I might just wear them anyway, but I hadn't, in the end. C took them and tried them on and they suited his larger frame quite nicely. I said he could keep them. But, in the end, on Wednesday he informed me, he had given them to J, who wanted them quite badly. In Insadong, I found a pair just like them to replace the ones C had given away.
Saturday night was a load of nonsense that involved me drinking too many beers too quickly on an empty stomach and stuck talking to literally the most obnoxious kyopo on the face of the planet -- or, rather, led to him talking at me, while I mostly stared off into space. I let the boys get me quite worked up about a number of things. Sunday morning saw me ignoring texts and phone calls from C, until he finally just came over. Wasn't much for company, due to being in a shitty mood (more, "I just don't feel good", more not really buying it, I think). But he left me his sunglasses in exchange, and I think I might actually wear those. Chatted for a bit to Small Town on the phone in the evening. It's easy to tell him things. I think he sees through everything, anyway.
Now I think I'll head back to bed for more hit-or-miss snoozing, maybe start another Murakami novel. I should have stopped at the pharmacy on the way home, but could think only of making it to bed and out of the rain. I hope I feel better tomorrow.
Oh. And as I was nodding off this afternoon, I was just sure I heard someone in a nearby apartment pounding away on a typewriter. I wonder what it would take to find out who it was.
The school is lonely without the students, and you hardly even seen them around the neighborhood anymore, anyway. Everything is just slightly too quiet. Maybe everyone is in Jejudo. I'm not really sure. Today, at my co-teacher's prodding, I came home a bit early from work (after teaching in the morning) because I was in excruciating pain. Finished reading Sputnik Sweetheart in a sort of feverish state, just before nodding off, which is an interesting way to read anything from Murakami. Needless to say, missed another Korean class.
Something screwy's going on with my body, and I want to blame that for this weekend. I kept saying, I don't feel good, not all the way believing it myself and certainly not convincing anyone else, who saw that I seemed perfectly fine, other than being a bit down and not really eating. If they could see me now, they'd believe me. Just legitimately sick. Although I know that one can lead to the other.
Saturday was jumping from gallery to gallery in Insadong, where the only thing that really caught my interest (other than arguing over medium with Small Town, when we couldn't read the placards in Korean) was an exhibition of children's paintings. Everything else just struck me as mediocre at best, completely meaningless at worst, besides the odd painting here and there. The antique shops, overflowing with absolute loads of nonsense, on the other hand, were quite worth the while. As was catching a look at a table on the sidewalk full of hats, surrounded by nearly fifty people, all frantically trying them on. I did manage to find a pair of sunglasses -- well, wait. Let me tell this story as a bit of an aside.
On Monday night, after class, when I met C and J for dinner, I had my sunglasses (which I never wear, due to them being far too big for my face) clipped to my shirt. It had started out a sunny day (although, by then, it was raining) and I figured I might just wear them anyway, but I hadn't, in the end. C took them and tried them on and they suited his larger frame quite nicely. I said he could keep them. But, in the end, on Wednesday he informed me, he had given them to J, who wanted them quite badly. In Insadong, I found a pair just like them to replace the ones C had given away.
Saturday night was a load of nonsense that involved me drinking too many beers too quickly on an empty stomach and stuck talking to literally the most obnoxious kyopo on the face of the planet -- or, rather, led to him talking at me, while I mostly stared off into space. I let the boys get me quite worked up about a number of things. Sunday morning saw me ignoring texts and phone calls from C, until he finally just came over. Wasn't much for company, due to being in a shitty mood (more, "I just don't feel good", more not really buying it, I think). But he left me his sunglasses in exchange, and I think I might actually wear those. Chatted for a bit to Small Town on the phone in the evening. It's easy to tell him things. I think he sees through everything, anyway.
Now I think I'll head back to bed for more hit-or-miss snoozing, maybe start another Murakami novel. I should have stopped at the pharmacy on the way home, but could think only of making it to bed and out of the rain. I hope I feel better tomorrow.
Oh. And as I was nodding off this afternoon, I was just sure I heard someone in a nearby apartment pounding away on a typewriter. I wonder what it would take to find out who it was.
7.26.2009
7.23.2009
Why being exhausted is worth it.
Trekking all over God's green creation this weekend to get all the supplies to make pancakes in the sweaty, rainy, terrible weather, blowing nearly a hundred bucks....
Well. It's okay.
Love.
Well. It's okay.
Love.
7.21.2009
Working hard; playing hard.
Boy, am I ever running an odd schedule at the moment.
Kids, the camps are going beautifully so far, despite the fact that there's a surprise 12 year old in my "adult" class, which has demanded some serious restructuring. The little first graders are golden, still keen on the fact that these are their first hours with the foreign teacher, and therefore on their best behavior, excited about just about everything. The two second graders are two of my best from the nightmare after school class, who are finally getting to take a class with me that isn't a total drag due to their classmates. And the third graders... heh.
The third graders are both extremely high level English, and super fun basic English time with the babies is not what they signed up for. They didn't come to class today, and I have a feeling they won't be back. I explained the situation to them, and told them that if they wanted to come in anytime over the next three weeks when I'm not teaching, they're welcome to. "Man to man?" one asked, in response to this. I laughed. Yeah. Man to man.
Nonetheless, they did take down my phone number, which I gave to the small group of students on Monday, due to the fact that my winter camp was sabotaged by surprise demolition of the English Zone, so that the boys and I can remain in touch during the absence of any other English speaking or homeroom teachers at the school. The two third graders have been making good use of the number since I gave it, texting me about failing their hagwon exams, calling me on the bus to tell me that pancakes are delicious, and letting me know that they have a cold from sleeping with the fan on and can't sleep.
It still feels a bit odd to me, being American, to have such contact with students. Stateside, it's a big no-no. But it's quite normal for Korean students to have their homeroom teachers' numbers and make regular contact with them, for this or that reason, just to stay in touch. I wouldn't want it to become a school-wide phenomenon, just based on the frequency of texts and phone calls over the last two days, but it's not so bad with one or two high level students. I set up an email account specifically for the students to reach me at as well, which regularly receives short messages from the younger students saying things like, "Have happy day Teacher!" and the like. Sweet. And it's excellent practice for their English.
Mostly the classes have been a smash hit so far, but I've stayed on a very basic level for the first couple of days, while I gauge their abilities. They seem quite advanced, the group I'm dealing with, so tomorrow we're taking it up a notch. Also working on a short book/newsletter thing to send home at the end with photos of the student activities and the work they've been doing.
Today the pancakes came out disastrously salty, due to the combination of an overly eager salt pourer, a possibly bad recipe, and the fact that most Korean bread-type stuff is much sweeter than what Westerners think of in the same case, meaning the boys expected the pancakes to be like actual cake, rather than the sort of buttery food stuff they actually are. Their reactions were so priceless that I had to capture them in documented form, so I tacked on a last minute activity where they were to write a short paragraph about the experience and illustrate it. Those will be put up here soon. Some of the most expressive spontaneous usage of English I've seen thus far. They all complained about how they needed to go home and eat kimchi afterward, to soothe their stomachs. Still, the pancakes disappeared rather quickly....
In other news, last night, despite being exhausted from the first day of camps, followed immediately by Korean class, I came back to my neighborhood and let C talk me into meeting him and J for chicken and beer at a plastic table on the sidewalk outside a restaurant down in his quarters. He and J picked me up at the station in J's car, and after we ate, I was easily convinced (despite the hour nearing 11) to take a walk beside the river. C ducked into a convenience store and bought three foreign beers which required a bottle opener, which none of us had. He then morphed into a total man and started banging the bottles on just about any hard object he came across, convinced he could open them with sheer force alone. The result was him covering himself in spewed beer, and us getting to enjoy only half of what he had paid for. The scene was a source of great amusement for many passing high school students.
Gotta give C credit, where it's due -- being with him is never boring. In fact, in many ways, it's the most comfortable and at home I've felt since I've been in Korea. Walking along the river as a light rain started to fall, having a passionate debate about whether or not fish were living in the toxic puddles of water that remained. Discussing religion vs. God, how I believe in one, but not the other, and being truly open, more and more. How I don't think God hates anything he created, including gays, including alcohol, including sex.... that God gave us life to live and to enjoy, so long as we are not hurting ourselves or other people.
Tomorrow, two or three or four (or six) people will be joining me in my apartment to make pancakes, obviously using a salt-altered version of today's recipes, since I already have all the ingredients. American style -- let's all mix our genders in a single girl's apartment together, like we're grownups. I like it.
In other news, a lovely person by the name of Soonbong Kwon has contacted me to ask me to write for his website, nowseoul.com. It's a website catering to foreigners that offers all kinds of information in English that seems to be useful to both tourists and expats alike. Lately, there have been a few different people (Koreans) popping up with these kinds of efforts. It's sorely needed in Korea, and greatly appreciated by foreigners, who like to complain nonstop about how un-foreigner-friendly the ROK can be at times. It seems that there is great hope on the horizon for the ROK in this regard, as the younger generation becomes more and more interested to opening their nation up to outsiders, and embracing them and making them feel as safe, welcomed and comfortable as possible. Those of us who spend even a little time here should, in my opinion, do what we can to help on the foreigner side of these efforts, including adding our perspective and making our issues known, so that the ROK can become a more integrated country overall. This is particularly crucial if you, like me, are committed to a reasonably long stay in the ROK.
And now it's past midnight, and I've got a ton to do before the guys show up tomorrow night. This week has the potential to run me into the ground -- I haven't been this exhausted since finals at university. But I'm trying to keep a nice balance between work and social activities, despite the extra cost to my sleep schedule, and, as always, there is the sheer fantasticness of my students to keep everything in balance. They are worth working hard for.
Kids, the camps are going beautifully so far, despite the fact that there's a surprise 12 year old in my "adult" class, which has demanded some serious restructuring. The little first graders are golden, still keen on the fact that these are their first hours with the foreign teacher, and therefore on their best behavior, excited about just about everything. The two second graders are two of my best from the nightmare after school class, who are finally getting to take a class with me that isn't a total drag due to their classmates. And the third graders... heh.
The third graders are both extremely high level English, and super fun basic English time with the babies is not what they signed up for. They didn't come to class today, and I have a feeling they won't be back. I explained the situation to them, and told them that if they wanted to come in anytime over the next three weeks when I'm not teaching, they're welcome to. "Man to man?" one asked, in response to this. I laughed. Yeah. Man to man.
Nonetheless, they did take down my phone number, which I gave to the small group of students on Monday, due to the fact that my winter camp was sabotaged by surprise demolition of the English Zone, so that the boys and I can remain in touch during the absence of any other English speaking or homeroom teachers at the school. The two third graders have been making good use of the number since I gave it, texting me about failing their hagwon exams, calling me on the bus to tell me that pancakes are delicious, and letting me know that they have a cold from sleeping with the fan on and can't sleep.
It still feels a bit odd to me, being American, to have such contact with students. Stateside, it's a big no-no. But it's quite normal for Korean students to have their homeroom teachers' numbers and make regular contact with them, for this or that reason, just to stay in touch. I wouldn't want it to become a school-wide phenomenon, just based on the frequency of texts and phone calls over the last two days, but it's not so bad with one or two high level students. I set up an email account specifically for the students to reach me at as well, which regularly receives short messages from the younger students saying things like, "Have happy day Teacher!" and the like. Sweet. And it's excellent practice for their English.
Mostly the classes have been a smash hit so far, but I've stayed on a very basic level for the first couple of days, while I gauge their abilities. They seem quite advanced, the group I'm dealing with, so tomorrow we're taking it up a notch. Also working on a short book/newsletter thing to send home at the end with photos of the student activities and the work they've been doing.
Today the pancakes came out disastrously salty, due to the combination of an overly eager salt pourer, a possibly bad recipe, and the fact that most Korean bread-type stuff is much sweeter than what Westerners think of in the same case, meaning the boys expected the pancakes to be like actual cake, rather than the sort of buttery food stuff they actually are. Their reactions were so priceless that I had to capture them in documented form, so I tacked on a last minute activity where they were to write a short paragraph about the experience and illustrate it. Those will be put up here soon. Some of the most expressive spontaneous usage of English I've seen thus far. They all complained about how they needed to go home and eat kimchi afterward, to soothe their stomachs. Still, the pancakes disappeared rather quickly....
In other news, last night, despite being exhausted from the first day of camps, followed immediately by Korean class, I came back to my neighborhood and let C talk me into meeting him and J for chicken and beer at a plastic table on the sidewalk outside a restaurant down in his quarters. He and J picked me up at the station in J's car, and after we ate, I was easily convinced (despite the hour nearing 11) to take a walk beside the river. C ducked into a convenience store and bought three foreign beers which required a bottle opener, which none of us had. He then morphed into a total man and started banging the bottles on just about any hard object he came across, convinced he could open them with sheer force alone. The result was him covering himself in spewed beer, and us getting to enjoy only half of what he had paid for. The scene was a source of great amusement for many passing high school students.
Gotta give C credit, where it's due -- being with him is never boring. In fact, in many ways, it's the most comfortable and at home I've felt since I've been in Korea. Walking along the river as a light rain started to fall, having a passionate debate about whether or not fish were living in the toxic puddles of water that remained. Discussing religion vs. God, how I believe in one, but not the other, and being truly open, more and more. How I don't think God hates anything he created, including gays, including alcohol, including sex.... that God gave us life to live and to enjoy, so long as we are not hurting ourselves or other people.
Tomorrow, two or three or four (or six) people will be joining me in my apartment to make pancakes, obviously using a salt-altered version of today's recipes, since I already have all the ingredients. American style -- let's all mix our genders in a single girl's apartment together, like we're grownups. I like it.
In other news, a lovely person by the name of Soonbong Kwon has contacted me to ask me to write for his website, nowseoul.com. It's a website catering to foreigners that offers all kinds of information in English that seems to be useful to both tourists and expats alike. Lately, there have been a few different people (Koreans) popping up with these kinds of efforts. It's sorely needed in Korea, and greatly appreciated by foreigners, who like to complain nonstop about how un-foreigner-friendly the ROK can be at times. It seems that there is great hope on the horizon for the ROK in this regard, as the younger generation becomes more and more interested to opening their nation up to outsiders, and embracing them and making them feel as safe, welcomed and comfortable as possible. Those of us who spend even a little time here should, in my opinion, do what we can to help on the foreigner side of these efforts, including adding our perspective and making our issues known, so that the ROK can become a more integrated country overall. This is particularly crucial if you, like me, are committed to a reasonably long stay in the ROK.
And now it's past midnight, and I've got a ton to do before the guys show up tomorrow night. This week has the potential to run me into the ground -- I haven't been this exhausted since finals at university. But I'm trying to keep a nice balance between work and social activities, despite the extra cost to my sleep schedule, and, as always, there is the sheer fantasticness of my students to keep everything in balance. They are worth working hard for.
7.19.2009
My family.
My little cousin has just informed me that apparently my entire family is gearing up in excitement for the fact that they've decided it's likely I will bring home a Korean husband soon. The complete and utter bizarreness of this cannot even be explained. I've given them no reason to hope such a thing would come to pass, let alone in the near future. Also, I would think they would be quite unhappy with the prospect of me marrying a (to them) foreigner, thereby permanently laying roots in a country halfway around the world. Guess not. Thanks, guys.
I had absolutely no clue my family was so gungho about me doing the settling down thing. My whole life I've made it clear that it's not my cup of tea and possibly never would be, and I thought they'd given up on me long ago.
This is odd.
Ma, if you're listening, don't count your ducks just yet. The "B" word is still far from tumbling out of my mouth, let alone the "F" word, let alone the big one that starts with an "H". Just hold your horses. And stop talking about me when I'm not there.
Thanks.
I had absolutely no clue my family was so gungho about me doing the settling down thing. My whole life I've made it clear that it's not my cup of tea and possibly never would be, and I thought they'd given up on me long ago.
This is odd.
Ma, if you're listening, don't count your ducks just yet. The "B" word is still far from tumbling out of my mouth, let alone the "F" word, let alone the big one that starts with an "H". Just hold your horses. And stop talking about me when I'm not there.
Thanks.
Homo Hill.
Last night. Where to begin?
And why do so many of my weekend posts start out with that line?
Well. Last night was the lovely Miss Kelly's 29th birthday. We were set to celebrate on Homo Hill in Itaewon. During the week, while visiting C and his friend J at C's uncle's vacant apartment, C brought this up in front of J, who suddenly (and surprisingly) expressed a strong desire to attend. It was only my second time meeting J, and my first really talking to him, but how can you pass up the opportunity to spend an evening introducing a completely open-minded Korean to his own country's gay scene? We met at the bus station at seven to join Kelly, Willie and one other for dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant before the night's festivities began.
J doesn't have much faith in his English skills and is, in fact, here in Incheon for a while studying English with C. He came equipped with a notebook and electronic dictionary to help him with conversation along the way. He didn't need either, although we did take turns with our phone dictionaries -- the most useful function every Korean cellphone comes equipped with.
Dinner was good, despite the fact that we managed to piss off the owner (a large, intimidating Jordanian man (yes, it was the flag of Jordan, guys -- I checked)) multiple times, beginning with bringing in two bottles of wine (Muslim restaurant, although Kelly had checked the website and confirmed that bringing in your own alcohol was perfectly fine, beforehand), misunderstanding "Did you order?" for "Are you ready to order?", asking for more pita and mistaking a side dish for a main one.
Later, we pissed off an even scarier Korean man in a suit by attempting to eat birthday cake in front of a car garage he was guarding. We considered offering him some cake to make him stop glaring at us, but decided that ultimately, it would probably result in a fist to the jawbone. This guy wasn't fucking around.
Homo Hill is by far the most diverse, warm and friendly, open part of Korea I've seen so far. A nice mix of Koreans and foreigners, gays and straights, men and women -- everyone dancing, drinking, intermingling and being themselves. Absolutely fantastic. And not scary at all, as confirmed by our dear J, who sailed through the night with wide eyes, a broad grin and an enthusiastic openness. He had a great time. I don't think he had ever seen so many foreigners before, so many different kinds of restaurants, or anything like Itaewon, let alone Homo Hill. It was a genuine pleasure to be the one to introduce him to all of this.
Later after Suki had joined us, and me, her, Willie and J split off from the rest, unbeknownst to me, we rounded the corner onto the neighboring Hooker Hill, where women stood out on the street in their bras, loitering around in front of parlor-style establishments, drawing in soldiers from the surrounding neighborhood. Found a little place called Grand Ole Opry that played appropriately fantastic music, where we did jello shots that I'm convinced had no shots in them at all. Suki and I taught J how to do the electric slide, and J taught me how to do "Korean traditional country dance". We slow danced to "Hotel California" -- the perfect way to end the night -- and made our way back out onto the street to the sound of "Brown Eyed Girl".
J and I grabbed a taxi home, and I sat in the backseat with my eyes closed, happily listening to J and the driver discuss the Korean economy in Korean, my gentle buzz making it easier than usual to follow the conversation. We said goodbye at Jakjeon station.
The whole night reminded me how necessary it is to go and be a foreigner sometimes, with other foreigners, in foreigner type settings. I didn't come to Korea to isolate myself from a new culture, but it's okay to remember and admit that I am foreign, and I come from another place. There are differences between me and this country. It's not always easy to be yourself in a group of Koreans, especially when yourself is someone who isn't necessarily 100% accepted, even in Western society. But part of adapting to a new culture, when you want to stay in the long term, is not just understanding that culture, but also learning how to be from outside that culture while you are inside of it.
It was a good night. A big thank you to Kelly for her extended invitation, and I look forward to seeing her and the other waegookin again soon.
And why do so many of my weekend posts start out with that line?
Well. Last night was the lovely Miss Kelly's 29th birthday. We were set to celebrate on Homo Hill in Itaewon. During the week, while visiting C and his friend J at C's uncle's vacant apartment, C brought this up in front of J, who suddenly (and surprisingly) expressed a strong desire to attend. It was only my second time meeting J, and my first really talking to him, but how can you pass up the opportunity to spend an evening introducing a completely open-minded Korean to his own country's gay scene? We met at the bus station at seven to join Kelly, Willie and one other for dinner at a Middle Eastern restaurant before the night's festivities began.
J doesn't have much faith in his English skills and is, in fact, here in Incheon for a while studying English with C. He came equipped with a notebook and electronic dictionary to help him with conversation along the way. He didn't need either, although we did take turns with our phone dictionaries -- the most useful function every Korean cellphone comes equipped with.
Dinner was good, despite the fact that we managed to piss off the owner (a large, intimidating Jordanian man (yes, it was the flag of Jordan, guys -- I checked)) multiple times, beginning with bringing in two bottles of wine (Muslim restaurant, although Kelly had checked the website and confirmed that bringing in your own alcohol was perfectly fine, beforehand), misunderstanding "Did you order?" for "Are you ready to order?", asking for more pita and mistaking a side dish for a main one.
Later, we pissed off an even scarier Korean man in a suit by attempting to eat birthday cake in front of a car garage he was guarding. We considered offering him some cake to make him stop glaring at us, but decided that ultimately, it would probably result in a fist to the jawbone. This guy wasn't fucking around.
Homo Hill is by far the most diverse, warm and friendly, open part of Korea I've seen so far. A nice mix of Koreans and foreigners, gays and straights, men and women -- everyone dancing, drinking, intermingling and being themselves. Absolutely fantastic. And not scary at all, as confirmed by our dear J, who sailed through the night with wide eyes, a broad grin and an enthusiastic openness. He had a great time. I don't think he had ever seen so many foreigners before, so many different kinds of restaurants, or anything like Itaewon, let alone Homo Hill. It was a genuine pleasure to be the one to introduce him to all of this.
Later after Suki had joined us, and me, her, Willie and J split off from the rest, unbeknownst to me, we rounded the corner onto the neighboring Hooker Hill, where women stood out on the street in their bras, loitering around in front of parlor-style establishments, drawing in soldiers from the surrounding neighborhood. Found a little place called Grand Ole Opry that played appropriately fantastic music, where we did jello shots that I'm convinced had no shots in them at all. Suki and I taught J how to do the electric slide, and J taught me how to do "Korean traditional country dance". We slow danced to "Hotel California" -- the perfect way to end the night -- and made our way back out onto the street to the sound of "Brown Eyed Girl".
J and I grabbed a taxi home, and I sat in the backseat with my eyes closed, happily listening to J and the driver discuss the Korean economy in Korean, my gentle buzz making it easier than usual to follow the conversation. We said goodbye at Jakjeon station.
The whole night reminded me how necessary it is to go and be a foreigner sometimes, with other foreigners, in foreigner type settings. I didn't come to Korea to isolate myself from a new culture, but it's okay to remember and admit that I am foreign, and I come from another place. There are differences between me and this country. It's not always easy to be yourself in a group of Koreans, especially when yourself is someone who isn't necessarily 100% accepted, even in Western society. But part of adapting to a new culture, when you want to stay in the long term, is not just understanding that culture, but also learning how to be from outside that culture while you are inside of it.
It was a good night. A big thank you to Kelly for her extended invitation, and I look forward to seeing her and the other waegookin again soon.
7.15.2009
Better than Bupyeong.
Making samgyeopsal over an open flame on the living room floor, followed by beer, music, cigarettes on the roof. Can't think of a better way to celebrate the last day of summer semester classes. Not that I'm at all looking forward to a studentless school again for another month and a half. Drag. But. The good news is, two weeks of that will be vacation time, as my VP has decided to let me "work from home" after I finish my vacation.
I've been warned by yet another of our dear friend C's friends tonight to be careful of him because he is "dangerous guy". No one seems inclined to expand upon that thought. Hm.
I've also gained yet another oppa. And I'm nowhere closer, despite the Korean classes, to incorporating that word into my vocabulary, willingly. Where are all the dongsaeng at?
Sitting under the stars (I'm sure they were up there), fighting off the mogi and explaining the lyrics of "Lady Marmalade". I've been promised a visit to one of those middle-of-the-road tent restaurants for a soju meeting sometime in the near future.
"This is better than Bupyeong," C murmured as we three reclined on the roof. I'm inclined to agree.
It feels like home.
I've been warned by yet another of our dear friend C's friends tonight to be careful of him because he is "dangerous guy". No one seems inclined to expand upon that thought. Hm.
I've also gained yet another oppa. And I'm nowhere closer, despite the Korean classes, to incorporating that word into my vocabulary, willingly. Where are all the dongsaeng at?
Sitting under the stars (I'm sure they were up there), fighting off the mogi and explaining the lyrics of "Lady Marmalade". I've been promised a visit to one of those middle-of-the-road tent restaurants for a soju meeting sometime in the near future.
"This is better than Bupyeong," C murmured as we three reclined on the roof. I'm inclined to agree.
It feels like home.
7.14.2009
Jangma.
I'm officially skipping my first Korean class, thanks to this complete and utter BULLSHIT weather. The wind is picking up the rain, which has yet to cease for even a moment all day, and blowing it directly sideways, so that I had to use my umbrella as a shield for the first half of the walk home from work, until it broke in about five different ways. Serves me right for buying the chil cheon won model, I suppose.
Ugh. Is Jangma almost over yet? Nothing dries -- not your hair, not your clothes... even your very body seems to be saturated by an ever-present cloud of sticky, hot disgustingness. If this is still going on in the morning, I'm taking the boys' lead on this one and walking to school with my pants rolled up to my knees, wearing nothing but a pair of flip flops on my feet. To do otherwise seems almost insane.
An extra special thank you to the adjumma who were standing outside the school gate this morning handing out shockingly sturdy cardboard and plastic fans for no apparent reason, approximately eighteen of which I confiscated today, due to the overwhelming simplicity involved in converting them into extremely effective face-slapping devices, using intent alone.
Today was my last, last after school class. We finished about seven minutes early, and I wasn't into trying to make them do anything else, one day before summer vacation, during their last seven class, so we just chatted for a bit. Amazing how hard it is to get them to do that when we're supposed to be having "conversational" classes. Yet, when they feel they're getting away with something....
"Teacher today last seven class?"
"Yes. Today is the last seven class."
"Oh, no!"
"Haha. Yeah, right...."
'Yeah, right' has become a favorite English expression among my boys, since they've sussed its meaning from hearing me utter it so often, right along side a highly sarcastic, 'great', which makes them giggle every time.
"No, Teacher! Oh, no!"
"Why 'oh, no'? Everyone hates seven class...."
"No. This class is very happy. Very enjoy."
Smart asses. I have been making up with a lot of the second grade students, lately though, after the troubles we've had with each other getting through their book this semester. Last year, with co-teachers who translated everything and acted as the sole disciplinarians, we had a much better relationship. But this year, with co-teachers who stand in the back of the room and say nothing (if present at all), they've really taken a hard grudge against me for having to take the reigns of discipline in my own two feeble hands. Recently, though, even the boys from the nightmare class have let a lot of that go. Part of it is because during the games/movies of recent weeks (requested by co-teachers, who were falling behind me in the book), I've had time to reconnect with them, walking around and chatting, instead of just standing in front of the room teaching.
And part of it is because the last two weeks I've had them moved to the EOZ, where they see me interacting with the third graders. The amount of respect given to a class even one year above here is something I don't think most Western minds could comprehend without witnessing it firsthand. But, the last two weeks, grade two has seen the third graders coming in to chat for no reason, bowing and greeting me in Korean. They've seen me calling them by name and making small jokes with them using my broken Korean.
Whenever a third grader walks into a classroom full of second graders, the result is almost total silence, mixed with a bit of awkward squirming. To see those third graders then show the kind of respect to me, as a teacher, that the second graders don't even show their homeroom teachers anymore, was nothing short of shocking for them. It has definitely changed their attitudes. And it gives me some hope that next year, as third graders, they won't completely steamroll me.
Now I'm off to study a bit of Korean out of sheer guilt. Although, it's hard to feel bad when I can't even see out my kitchen window for the sheets of rain being thrown at. It's a good day for reading a little Murakami and getting to bed early.
This weekend may see a little out of town day trip with Small Town. I'm still a bit undecided, as it's the weekend before I launch head on into summer camps, which will consist (in the first week) of three and a half student hours in the mornings, two hours with the parents in the afternoons. The best part? I've been informed that my student camp will be made up of two third graders, two second graders and eight -- count them, eight -- delightfully unacquainted little first graders. Someone tell me how to successfully work on all those levels at once, and I'll probably marry you.
I also need new clothes again. This rain had better stop before Friday.
7.12.2009
7.11.2009
노량진 시장
Last night C came over to fix my picture files from the fish market, with two giant cans of rubbish Korean beer in tow. I've gotten way too used to rubbish beer. Of course, as I predicted, he placed one finger on my laptop and began to freak out about what shit condition it was in. No computery type person has ever touched a single one of my computers without looking like they suddenly wanted to cry. He tinkered around for a while, vaguely explaining all the things he was doing (which desperately needed to be done) and then laughing at my blank expression in reply. Something about reformatting. I said 'hell no' to that one.
"Why?"
"It's really boring!"
"But your computer is so slow.... and it's a good computer. No reason for it to be slow."
"It's okay. I'm a patient person."
Luckily, I had predicted the fact that once he got a look at my ragtag neglected orphan of a machine, he would be staying a lot longer than an hour and had bought some supplies of my own. Drinking beer and fixing a computer. What a Friday night.
Anyway, here are some of the photos.
"Why?"
"It's really boring!"
"But your computer is so slow.... and it's a good computer. No reason for it to be slow."
"It's okay. I'm a patient person."
Luckily, I had predicted the fact that once he got a look at my ragtag neglected orphan of a machine, he would be staying a lot longer than an hour and had bought some supplies of my own. Drinking beer and fixing a computer. What a Friday night.
Anyway, here are some of the photos.
7.08.2009
Dispatch: Hello. I'm alive.
I feel like I owe something to this place.
The same old story, as of late. It's not a lack of things to report, but rather an excess of things to report leading to absolutely no time at all to report them. A few quick notes, as it's nearly half past midnight, and I've got to be up for that thing they call work in a matter of hours.
1. Korean class.
It's in Korean. All of it. I have no idea what about this course is supposed to be beginner. That having been said, although my speaking abilities are basically non-existent, this has made me realize how decent my listening abilities really have become. I am usually a step behind in understanding exactly what's going on at any given moment, but I'm trailing not too far behind and I catch nearly all of it, in the end. If you'd told me that I would be taking a course in Korean using the L2 exclusively and actually learning a week ago, I would have laughed in your face. It's fair enough, at this point, to say that my Korean ability is pulling up fast to match the English ability of my average student. And I have a feeling the next 8 weeks are going to see a hell of a lot of growth.
And I don't have to even mention what it's done for my understanding of my students, to be in an L2 only learning environment. That's really self-explanatory. And I absolutely see the benefits, now, whereas I had serious doubts that L2 only instruction were at all (or especially significantly) effective before.
This week it's time to movie, movie, as finals have finished and the boys are in no way, shape, form or fashion interested in learning a damn thing. Yesterday I was determined to keep up the facade with actual lesson and activities, but was so exhausted by the end of it, that I caved in and showed movies only today. The boys have taken advantage of the time, to my somewhat poorly disguised delight, to move to a back corner with me and chat for about 45 minutes. Suddenly there are all these questions they don't have time to ask during class, when we're focused on finishing their exercises. They're new favorite schtick is:
"Teacher have boyfriend?"
"Obseoyo."
"I can't believe it!"
Waaahahahaha. So funny.
Teacher learn Korean? Teacher family far away? Teacher hobby what? Teacher tattoo what meaning? Teacher like Korean food? Teacher go to beach? Teacher stay Korea? Teacher want marry? Teacher happy? Teacher happy Korea?
Today they took great delight in helping me practice the dialogue I had to memorize for my class tonight. It was an ecstatic role reversal for them, and they repeated each word for me slowly and with great patience, until I could pronounce it all perfectly, even taking the time to give me little grammar lessons in between. As we practiced, little audiences formed. They giggled with joy to hear their teacher speaking Korean. Kuiyeopda. There's nothing at all malicious in their tittering -- they have a genuine, gentle reaction to the cuteness of it. Most of the time, I'm intimidating and speaking in a language they have to struggle to keep up with. To hear my funny little accent makes me more human to them. And they all think Sim will end up on "Misuda" some day.
I'm also pleased to say that I've made quite a good instant friend from the class. I've met her a couple of times before, because we live near each other and our co-teachers are good friends. Last week when I went to the movies, two of my students were there with two of her (female) students. We ride the bus and train home together, and tonight we stopped for dinner in Bupyeong and ended up staying for a couple of hours, just talking about all of the things we can't really talk about with other foreigners or Koreans. Or men. She's an instant fit, and I'm grateful for her already.
2. Other stuff.
Well. Some shit got cleared up last weekend, and I realized that things are always better when they're out in the open. Of course, I prefer it this way when it involves other people's feelings. Sometimes it's not such a bad thing to make my own known, either. And I'll be doing a lot more of that from now on. Remembering to be myself, no matter what the cost, and trust that people will always take that version for the better. I'm hanging on, this time.
And. Some other, other stuff. Keeping it on the downlow, taking it all in stride. It's a pressured situation, but that doesn't mean we have to act like there's pressure, right? Life leads where it leads. One foot in front of the other. Time will make everything evident, and everything will turn out as it should.
Hi. I'm vague. But this is a public forum, after all. Let's just say, I've been well taken care of since Mike's departure.
Tomorrow night is dinner with my mothers' class. They're lovely. And so excited about English, for no other reason than that they want to open their worlds a little wider, be friendly and welcoming to foreigners. After that, the lovely C is set to come to my place to fix a little problem I'm having with my photo files from the market this weekend. But I might redirect that little venture to a nice chat at the coffee shop instead. That kid... he's mad to please and to help wherever he can. But I want him to know that he's appreciated just for being him, and not for what he can do to make life easier for me. I've been a terrible person to him as of late, given my recently hectic schedule, and have cancelled on him literally three times in one week. I don't want the next time I see him to be him going out of his way to do me this favor. He may be more comfortable with that, but I definitely am not. I told him this weekend, he make take great joy in being Oppa, but I don't need or want an oppa. He is chingoo.
I believe the sentence, "Over my dead body will I ever call you 'Oppa'" came out of my mouth at one point. I am Noona. I don't have Oppa. Which led to a challenge to a game of darts, the wager being who would be Dong-saeng. The little shit somehow pulled ahead by a measly few points right at the end. I told him he would be Oppa for this week, but come next weekend, he's on for a rematch. And then I'll take my rightful place as Noona.
Isn't it much better to talk about these things?
God. It's one am. I better at least try to force myself to sleep. Further dispatches to come. Stay on the edge of your seats, kiddos.
The same old story, as of late. It's not a lack of things to report, but rather an excess of things to report leading to absolutely no time at all to report them. A few quick notes, as it's nearly half past midnight, and I've got to be up for that thing they call work in a matter of hours.
1. Korean class.
It's in Korean. All of it. I have no idea what about this course is supposed to be beginner. That having been said, although my speaking abilities are basically non-existent, this has made me realize how decent my listening abilities really have become. I am usually a step behind in understanding exactly what's going on at any given moment, but I'm trailing not too far behind and I catch nearly all of it, in the end. If you'd told me that I would be taking a course in Korean using the L2 exclusively and actually learning a week ago, I would have laughed in your face. It's fair enough, at this point, to say that my Korean ability is pulling up fast to match the English ability of my average student. And I have a feeling the next 8 weeks are going to see a hell of a lot of growth.
And I don't have to even mention what it's done for my understanding of my students, to be in an L2 only learning environment. That's really self-explanatory. And I absolutely see the benefits, now, whereas I had serious doubts that L2 only instruction were at all (or especially significantly) effective before.
This week it's time to movie, movie, as finals have finished and the boys are in no way, shape, form or fashion interested in learning a damn thing. Yesterday I was determined to keep up the facade with actual lesson and activities, but was so exhausted by the end of it, that I caved in and showed movies only today. The boys have taken advantage of the time, to my somewhat poorly disguised delight, to move to a back corner with me and chat for about 45 minutes. Suddenly there are all these questions they don't have time to ask during class, when we're focused on finishing their exercises. They're new favorite schtick is:
"Teacher have boyfriend?"
"Obseoyo."
"I can't believe it!"
Waaahahahaha. So funny.
Teacher learn Korean? Teacher family far away? Teacher hobby what? Teacher tattoo what meaning? Teacher like Korean food? Teacher go to beach? Teacher stay Korea? Teacher want marry? Teacher happy? Teacher happy Korea?
Today they took great delight in helping me practice the dialogue I had to memorize for my class tonight. It was an ecstatic role reversal for them, and they repeated each word for me slowly and with great patience, until I could pronounce it all perfectly, even taking the time to give me little grammar lessons in between. As we practiced, little audiences formed. They giggled with joy to hear their teacher speaking Korean. Kuiyeopda. There's nothing at all malicious in their tittering -- they have a genuine, gentle reaction to the cuteness of it. Most of the time, I'm intimidating and speaking in a language they have to struggle to keep up with. To hear my funny little accent makes me more human to them. And they all think Sim will end up on "Misuda" some day.
I'm also pleased to say that I've made quite a good instant friend from the class. I've met her a couple of times before, because we live near each other and our co-teachers are good friends. Last week when I went to the movies, two of my students were there with two of her (female) students. We ride the bus and train home together, and tonight we stopped for dinner in Bupyeong and ended up staying for a couple of hours, just talking about all of the things we can't really talk about with other foreigners or Koreans. Or men. She's an instant fit, and I'm grateful for her already.
2. Other stuff.
Well. Some shit got cleared up last weekend, and I realized that things are always better when they're out in the open. Of course, I prefer it this way when it involves other people's feelings. Sometimes it's not such a bad thing to make my own known, either. And I'll be doing a lot more of that from now on. Remembering to be myself, no matter what the cost, and trust that people will always take that version for the better. I'm hanging on, this time.
And. Some other, other stuff. Keeping it on the downlow, taking it all in stride. It's a pressured situation, but that doesn't mean we have to act like there's pressure, right? Life leads where it leads. One foot in front of the other. Time will make everything evident, and everything will turn out as it should.
Hi. I'm vague. But this is a public forum, after all. Let's just say, I've been well taken care of since Mike's departure.
Tomorrow night is dinner with my mothers' class. They're lovely. And so excited about English, for no other reason than that they want to open their worlds a little wider, be friendly and welcoming to foreigners. After that, the lovely C is set to come to my place to fix a little problem I'm having with my photo files from the market this weekend. But I might redirect that little venture to a nice chat at the coffee shop instead. That kid... he's mad to please and to help wherever he can. But I want him to know that he's appreciated just for being him, and not for what he can do to make life easier for me. I've been a terrible person to him as of late, given my recently hectic schedule, and have cancelled on him literally three times in one week. I don't want the next time I see him to be him going out of his way to do me this favor. He may be more comfortable with that, but I definitely am not. I told him this weekend, he make take great joy in being Oppa, but I don't need or want an oppa. He is chingoo.
I believe the sentence, "Over my dead body will I ever call you 'Oppa'" came out of my mouth at one point. I am Noona. I don't have Oppa. Which led to a challenge to a game of darts, the wager being who would be Dong-saeng. The little shit somehow pulled ahead by a measly few points right at the end. I told him he would be Oppa for this week, but come next weekend, he's on for a rematch. And then I'll take my rightful place as Noona.
Isn't it much better to talk about these things?
God. It's one am. I better at least try to force myself to sleep. Further dispatches to come. Stay on the edge of your seats, kiddos.
7.03.2009
Noryangjin/Not drinking on a Friday night.
I'm working on kinda a crazy plan for tomorrow. Actually, it's not that crazy so much as something that would just confuse the average person, purpose-wise. But I must say, it is in honor of one the greats. Anthony Bourdain always says if you want to get the essence of any given place or people, head to the markets. And he himself made sure his first stop when he came to Seoul was the Noryangjin fish market.
Well. The truth is, I'm feeling a bit sickly. And my apartment is in serious need of some tender lovin' care. So I've convinced myself that it's not the best idea to go and make the boozy rounds tonight, even though last weekend saw the return of The Boxer, after first Mike, and then The Body Builder departed my company at a certain local. After chatting with The Boxer again for a while, finally learning his name, the owner of the bar waved me over to tell me, through his friend, that he had seen me in rather often lately, and thought I was cute because I always drink so much more than the (often rather large) men I'm with, yet I seem to stay completely sober and always take care of them in their drunken states, and see them home in cabs. He's not one of those skeevey owners we've so often met as foreigners in any given establishment -- he's young, and mostly stays behind a curtain preparing drinks and greasy anju, only coming out to hump the garbage to the curb. Mike took to calling him The Wizard of Oz, due to the curtain act. He gave me plums and we made friends. So now I feel completely comfortable walking into that establishment (gasp shock horror) completely alone.
I'm going to try not to let ten o'clock hit and for that urge to take over. Rather, I'd like to clean this dump until it shines and retire early to give this cold or whatever it is I've caught off the little cretins a good kick in the ass, waking early enough to catch the first train in to the fish market.
Don't worry. I'm not going to go all expat blogger/super tourist on you. I might go ahead and try the eating live octopus thing, though.
Small Town has successfully stuck to his pledge to "never drink again or for a while" for nearly three weeks now, so I'm going to see if he's interested in making this "non alcohol related expedition" with me. Or if he's got anything else in mind.
Gugh. Now I guess it's time to scrub. Can I borrow someone else's nose/lungs for a few hours?
Well. The truth is, I'm feeling a bit sickly. And my apartment is in serious need of some tender lovin' care. So I've convinced myself that it's not the best idea to go and make the boozy rounds tonight, even though last weekend saw the return of The Boxer, after first Mike, and then The Body Builder departed my company at a certain local. After chatting with The Boxer again for a while, finally learning his name, the owner of the bar waved me over to tell me, through his friend, that he had seen me in rather often lately, and thought I was cute because I always drink so much more than the (often rather large) men I'm with, yet I seem to stay completely sober and always take care of them in their drunken states, and see them home in cabs. He's not one of those skeevey owners we've so often met as foreigners in any given establishment -- he's young, and mostly stays behind a curtain preparing drinks and greasy anju, only coming out to hump the garbage to the curb. Mike took to calling him The Wizard of Oz, due to the curtain act. He gave me plums and we made friends. So now I feel completely comfortable walking into that establishment (gasp shock horror) completely alone.
I'm going to try not to let ten o'clock hit and for that urge to take over. Rather, I'd like to clean this dump until it shines and retire early to give this cold or whatever it is I've caught off the little cretins a good kick in the ass, waking early enough to catch the first train in to the fish market.
Don't worry. I'm not going to go all expat blogger/super tourist on you. I might go ahead and try the eating live octopus thing, though.
Small Town has successfully stuck to his pledge to "never drink again or for a while" for nearly three weeks now, so I'm going to see if he's interested in making this "non alcohol related expedition" with me. Or if he's got anything else in mind.
Gugh. Now I guess it's time to scrub. Can I borrow someone else's nose/lungs for a few hours?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
