I think I'm officially an honorary Korean. Things that are going into my suitcase:
- kim
- chopsticks
- soju
- kimchi
- ginseng (in several forms)
- gwanmo (for the baby -- still too small for hanbok, I'll send that for his first birthday)
- yeol gap dambae (ten packs of cigarettes -- no way am I paying US prices)
The ginseng came in the form of gifts from three different people at work today, for my family (one from the head teacher, two from mothers of students). I can't explain how fucking touching it's been to have the people at work fawn over me about my impending trip home. Make sure to get lots of rest. Here's a power converter for your Korean outletted devices. Make sure you eat well this week, so your family sees you healthy. Here's a recipe for japchae to share with your family.
Mostly, they're afraid I won't come back. Interestingly enough, the baby was also expressing this fear on Sunday night, when explaining how I simply must return to Korea, because otherwise I will miss his birthday party. It makes me wonder how many foreigners leg it home for a "vacation" and then just never return.
As evidence to the contrary, I visited immigration today, where I got a brand new shiny multi-entry visa stamped in my passport, along with a new mark on the back of ARC. I'm officially legal in the ROK for another year.
My phone battery died while I was at work. When I came home and changed it, I had the following:
One text from the baby asking what time we'll meet tomorrow
Five missed phone calls from Smalltown (???).
One text from C meekly suggesting that he come to my place tonight, or, "we can meet java you don't want."
I replied back that my place is fine -- I'm just packing anyway.
"ok ill go your home i thought messy day your house but sounds fine."
What can I say? What did I say? "My house is messy today, but I guess it's okay."
He must be over brimming with excitement. Luckily, I have just enough time to tidy up before he arrives.
Really. Too sad to leave for two weeks. But, as Willie put it, Korea will be same-same when I come back. I hope.
Crack crack crack crack. (What?)
Strong baby is definitely my favorite Konglish. My boys introduced me to it long ago, in reference to the little ones who are still handsome (during our class discussions about how Liz Teacher finds short men attractive) or could beat me at arm-wrestling.
Posted in honor of our own "strong" baby, to whom I may or may not have used the example of how it would have been illegal for me to sleep with him two years ago in my home country on Sunday night when trying to explain that, yes, to me he is 'aigee'. The response? A cheeky smile and, "But that was two years ago...."
Aish. Ee-ssang-nom-saekki....
9.30.2009
9.29.2009
Ready to go.
I'm kind of sort of sorted to go home now, I think.
Booked a flight just this morning for $400 less (and one less stop, each way) than I would have a week ago. Pretty pleased about that working out that way. Also, C has been phoning back and forth with me and the vendors who are selling the crap I bought for my family, clarifying last minute issues, so I don't have to stress about everything being in Korean. He's even arranged it so that the building ajeoshi will take the package if it comes when I'm not in.
Now it's just a matter of finishing up a few lesson plans for the week I return, going to immigration to renew my visa (oh for joy), doing the laundry, paying a couple of bills, finishing packing, getting the apartment all spic and span....
Meeting C tomorrow. I was going to finally introduce him to my main co-teacher, as they've both been nattering on about meeting each other for some time. Coteacher is curious about C, how he taught himself English in only two years, how he sounds to be, as she put it, "quite a character". C is curious about my "golden miss" co-teacher who has no interest in getting married, has traveled to over 20 countries, and who is the only person in Korea I truly consider "Unni" or older sister, based on the fact that she can actually give me fantastic life advice whenever I run into any kind of issue. As C put it, "You are smart. If coteacher is smart enough to help you when you don't understand, then coteacher must be very, very smart."
Unfortunately, Coteacher's niece is back in the hospital in Seoul, which means Coteacher's family is coming up tomorrow afternoon for Chuseok, instead of waiting for her to make the trip down for the holiday on Thursday night. Which means this monumental meeting of the minds will have to wait until I return. C's opted to keep our meeting for tomorrow night on, however, as he's begun work on a website and wants to get "your opinion because you are person who is good at understanding human people's minds." Liz is not so good at understanding websites, however, so this could be a small snafu.
Thursday night will be, apparently, meeting Shorty and Smalltown and possibly Smalltown's potential girl for dinner and drinks as a "going away" party. Thank you Shorty and Smalltown for dreaming such a thing up. My flight doesn't leave till 2 pm on Friday, so it will be nice to finally have some guilt-free time with the baby who works on weekends. Plus, Smalltown's potential girl is quite nice company as well, and I do hope to get to know her better.
And yes, I am skipping Korean class right now. And yes, I probably will on Thursday as well. And I'll miss six classes while I'm home. I don't care. I've been feeling damn near to sick lately, due to all of the stress from work and organizing things for another year in the ROK and preparing to go home. I'm going to take it easy on myself this week, and do my best not to feel guilty about it. It was all getting just a bit too serious, there for a while. I've finally realized that this Korean class thing is going to be going on for a long time, and I'm going to have to take it easy if I want to stay sane and not give up on it entirely. Sometimes, I'm going to miss classes. It's okay. I don't think many people could cope with the schedule I've somehow designed for myself and stay balanced without granting themselves some flexibility. And, as always, my job and my health come first.
So. On that note, I'm going to go now and chain smoke and eat ice cream for dinner while finishing the latest Korean drama I've been watching and probably go to bed too late. Ha.
In other news, you'll notice three new lovely ladies over in the sidebar. All are Western women living in Korea. One is the lovely Kelly, who has been around for ages (obviously), but who, for some reason, I never added, just because I always forget to do things like that. Next is Diana, who found me through a particularly spirited thread about Western women and Korean men on Dave's. And finally, there's Dating in Korea. I fully support any blog that's mostly about racking up as many pretty Korean men as one can. Not that that's what I do, by any stretch of the imagination. Ahem. Sometimes I do wish this blog was slightly more anonymous so I could tell a bit more, though. I'm jealous.
Say hello, boys and girls!
Booked a flight just this morning for $400 less (and one less stop, each way) than I would have a week ago. Pretty pleased about that working out that way. Also, C has been phoning back and forth with me and the vendors who are selling the crap I bought for my family, clarifying last minute issues, so I don't have to stress about everything being in Korean. He's even arranged it so that the building ajeoshi will take the package if it comes when I'm not in.
Now it's just a matter of finishing up a few lesson plans for the week I return, going to immigration to renew my visa (oh for joy), doing the laundry, paying a couple of bills, finishing packing, getting the apartment all spic and span....
Meeting C tomorrow. I was going to finally introduce him to my main co-teacher, as they've both been nattering on about meeting each other for some time. Coteacher is curious about C, how he taught himself English in only two years, how he sounds to be, as she put it, "quite a character". C is curious about my "golden miss" co-teacher who has no interest in getting married, has traveled to over 20 countries, and who is the only person in Korea I truly consider "Unni" or older sister, based on the fact that she can actually give me fantastic life advice whenever I run into any kind of issue. As C put it, "You are smart. If coteacher is smart enough to help you when you don't understand, then coteacher must be very, very smart."
Unfortunately, Coteacher's niece is back in the hospital in Seoul, which means Coteacher's family is coming up tomorrow afternoon for Chuseok, instead of waiting for her to make the trip down for the holiday on Thursday night. Which means this monumental meeting of the minds will have to wait until I return. C's opted to keep our meeting for tomorrow night on, however, as he's begun work on a website and wants to get "your opinion because you are person who is good at understanding human people's minds." Liz is not so good at understanding websites, however, so this could be a small snafu.
Thursday night will be, apparently, meeting Shorty and Smalltown and possibly Smalltown's potential girl for dinner and drinks as a "going away" party. Thank you Shorty and Smalltown for dreaming such a thing up. My flight doesn't leave till 2 pm on Friday, so it will be nice to finally have some guilt-free time with the baby who works on weekends. Plus, Smalltown's potential girl is quite nice company as well, and I do hope to get to know her better.
And yes, I am skipping Korean class right now. And yes, I probably will on Thursday as well. And I'll miss six classes while I'm home. I don't care. I've been feeling damn near to sick lately, due to all of the stress from work and organizing things for another year in the ROK and preparing to go home. I'm going to take it easy on myself this week, and do my best not to feel guilty about it. It was all getting just a bit too serious, there for a while. I've finally realized that this Korean class thing is going to be going on for a long time, and I'm going to have to take it easy if I want to stay sane and not give up on it entirely. Sometimes, I'm going to miss classes. It's okay. I don't think many people could cope with the schedule I've somehow designed for myself and stay balanced without granting themselves some flexibility. And, as always, my job and my health come first.
So. On that note, I'm going to go now and chain smoke and eat ice cream for dinner while finishing the latest Korean drama I've been watching and probably go to bed too late. Ha.
In other news, you'll notice three new lovely ladies over in the sidebar. All are Western women living in Korea. One is the lovely Kelly, who has been around for ages (obviously), but who, for some reason, I never added, just because I always forget to do things like that. Next is Diana, who found me through a particularly spirited thread about Western women and Korean men on Dave's. And finally, there's Dating in Korea. I fully support any blog that's mostly about racking up as many pretty Korean men as one can. Not that that's what I do, by any stretch of the imagination. Ahem. Sometimes I do wish this blog was slightly more anonymous so I could tell a bit more, though. I'm jealous.
Say hello, boys and girls!
9.28.2009
Exactly what I didn't think about.
Shorty is such a little shit talking mini-womanizer, it's not even funny. And by that, I mean, it is completely hysterical. What a pretty little face he has. And all I can think, while I listen to him spout on about how he can't believe I didn't contact him for a week and every day he waited for my messages, is how fucking lethal he would be, were I five years younger and less experienced than I am. The amount of sincerity he can muster for his nonsense makes me think he even has himself convinced.
But the point is, the date with Smalltown and Shorty's friend went brilliantly. I think it might be a genu-wine love connection. And I was amused enough to watch, and flirt with the baby, all the while trying not to think about something else.
Well. Now it's time for bed. Well past time for bed, in fact.
You know, I'm almost afraid to walk away from this in a week, to leave it alone while I visit my family for two weeks. Like somehow my life here will carry on without me while I'm gone, and I might miss something. Surely that's a sign of a life being well lived. Or lived, anyway. Which is good enough for me.
But the point is, the date with Smalltown and Shorty's friend went brilliantly. I think it might be a genu-wine love connection. And I was amused enough to watch, and flirt with the baby, all the while trying not to think about something else.
Well. Now it's time for bed. Well past time for bed, in fact.
You know, I'm almost afraid to walk away from this in a week, to leave it alone while I visit my family for two weeks. Like somehow my life here will carry on without me while I'm gone, and I might miss something. Surely that's a sign of a life being well lived. Or lived, anyway. Which is good enough for me.
9.27.2009
Slightly drunk post.
Today I ate a burrito for breakfast and went book shopping with C (plus points for making it to Hongdae before noon), ate dog soup with The Bar Tender (that's right), spoke a load of Korean and got a guy kicked out of Woodstock for touching me (The Bar Tender doesn't fuck around).
I also admitted something to myself that probably should've been admitted a long time ago, and as a result of this, I'm on my best behavior for now, and so far it's procuring much better results than the frantic behavior resulting from me trying to wriggle out of it before.
Just go with it. Right? Right.
Go with it where? Straight to hell, probably.
Oh well.
(This is only a slightly drunk post, by the way, even though it is nearly 4 am -- goodnight.)
I also admitted something to myself that probably should've been admitted a long time ago, and as a result of this, I'm on my best behavior for now, and so far it's procuring much better results than the frantic behavior resulting from me trying to wriggle out of it before.
Just go with it. Right? Right.
Go with it where? Straight to hell, probably.
Oh well.
(This is only a slightly drunk post, by the way, even though it is nearly 4 am -- goodnight.)
9.24.2009
Few quick notes.
Just a few quick notes before bed:
1. Whoever's googling "scoring hongdae girls" and then clicking on my blog, just... don't. Okay? Don't.
2. Apparently Smalltown and I have a double date with Shorty (formerly known as Aigee 2) and some random girl on Sunday. Great. That should be a complete waste of time. I actually don't know how I got drawn into this at all. It started out as, "Liz, [Smalltown]... you want Korean boyfriend and girlfriend?"
Liz: "No."
Smalltown: "Sure."
Shorty: "Okay I find you girl!"
Even though I passed on Smalltown's phone number with the express purpose of not being involved in this at all, Shorty just called to see if I have time on Sunday so that Conor can meet a girl. We're all four going together. Yippee skippy.
Smalltown said, on the phone, just now, when I explained this all to him: "So we're going on a double date together on Sunday basically then?"
"Yeah. I guess so."
"You'll have to be opening your mind to this younger generation, now, Liz my dear!"
To which I said: "All I have to say to that is... actually I have nothing to say to that. Goodnight."
3. Sitting outside at a plastic table eating chicken and drinking beer with C until almost midnight. I doubt I'll regret it in the morning.
He tried to come back to my apartment because he knows it's colossally dirty at the moment, and it's one of his goals to see my apartment when it's dirty. The boy's come a long way from, "Going to a girl's apartment alone is not part of Korean culture." It has to be said.
1. Whoever's googling "scoring hongdae girls" and then clicking on my blog, just... don't. Okay? Don't.
2. Apparently Smalltown and I have a double date with Shorty (formerly known as Aigee 2) and some random girl on Sunday. Great. That should be a complete waste of time. I actually don't know how I got drawn into this at all. It started out as, "Liz, [Smalltown]... you want Korean boyfriend and girlfriend?"
Liz: "No."
Smalltown: "Sure."
Shorty: "Okay I find you girl!"
Even though I passed on Smalltown's phone number with the express purpose of not being involved in this at all, Shorty just called to see if I have time on Sunday so that Conor can meet a girl. We're all four going together. Yippee skippy.
Smalltown said, on the phone, just now, when I explained this all to him: "So we're going on a double date together on Sunday basically then?"
"Yeah. I guess so."
"You'll have to be opening your mind to this younger generation, now, Liz my dear!"
To which I said: "All I have to say to that is... actually I have nothing to say to that. Goodnight."
3. Sitting outside at a plastic table eating chicken and drinking beer with C until almost midnight. I doubt I'll regret it in the morning.
He tried to come back to my apartment because he knows it's colossally dirty at the moment, and it's one of his goals to see my apartment when it's dirty. The boy's come a long way from, "Going to a girl's apartment alone is not part of Korean culture." It has to be said.
9.23.2009
The benefit of teaching the young'ns.
And now presenting the most adorable thing I've ever experienced in my entire life:
The boys -- even the older ones -- are massive crybabies about creatures of any kind getting into the classroom. Just as one class started to file in yesterday, some boys at a table near the windows noticed a bee (the kind that stings) and started to bug out. I grabbed a file folder and started trying to shoo the thing out the window.
"Get out! Go! Go away!"
A little murmured conversation in Korean started, just to my left. I tuned in.
"She's speaking English, but it's a Korean bee."
"Right. The bee only speaks Korean. He can't understand English."
"She should tell him in Korean."
A little tug on my shirt. "Teacher. Nagah. Na-gah."
"Ahh. You're right. He's Korean. NAGAH!"
"Teacher. Nagah. Na-gah." would have been lost on me a couple of months ago. I would have thought that, for some strange reason, my completely docile first grade student just decided to tell me, in very impolite terms, to get out of my own classroom.
The boys -- even the older ones -- are massive crybabies about creatures of any kind getting into the classroom. Just as one class started to file in yesterday, some boys at a table near the windows noticed a bee (the kind that stings) and started to bug out. I grabbed a file folder and started trying to shoo the thing out the window.
"Get out! Go! Go away!"
A little murmured conversation in Korean started, just to my left. I tuned in.
"She's speaking English, but it's a Korean bee."
"Right. The bee only speaks Korean. He can't understand English."
"She should tell him in Korean."
A little tug on my shirt. "Teacher. Nagah. Na-gah."
"Ahh. You're right. He's Korean. NAGAH!"
"Teacher. Nagah. Na-gah." would have been lost on me a couple of months ago. I would have thought that, for some strange reason, my completely docile first grade student just decided to tell me, in very impolite terms, to get out of my own classroom.
9.21.2009
Won't be at this station too long.
It seems like there's just too much, and nothing, to say. Another night sat staring into the middle distance, and time I really met some lovely people as well, but I just don't have it in me. Even being assured I missed a 'hell of a night' on Friday to stay in, and keep myself safe.
So there's one person I can still talk to. A thirty-six year old Korean bartender who speaks less English than I do Korean. The possibility of something like Smalltown asking an innocent question over dinner and me bursting (nearly) into tears just doesn't exist there.
To Smalltown's credit, since the boy's finally sussed that there's a lot more going on underneath this surface than is ever let on, he's done his best.
Sitting in the dark bar on Sunday afternoon sipping on a mug of coffee and watching the man wipe down the counters before opening and the music came on. I went out on the porch to have a smoke and it felt strange to feel so at home when two army guys walked past me inside, only to be turned away (not open yet). And that sort of questioning glance about the girl having a coffee outside. I belong here as more than business. Odd.
What's more odd is having someone tell you, for the first time in a foreign language, that his mother is dead. Dead. That word in English is one thing....
Four taxi drivers. Four conversations in Korean. What was life like before this again? My ears are opening up, in the classroom too. It's to the point now where both the boys and I forget that we just communicated in Korean. More phrases and words are becoming "mine" -- I own them, in the sense that I don't have to translate them in my head. I hear them and understand.
Mostly I'm just homesick. Thinking about my family, to be perfectly honest, makes me realize how measly the bonds I have here have been. In comparison. Getting dozens of texts and phone calls in an evening is fantastic and all. But where's that one person who really knows what the hell is going on?
Don't think about that.
Don't think about how you were turned away from three banks (including your own) while trying to get a credit card so you could book your flight home because you were a foreigner.
And definitely don't think about how you've just had two more class hours tacked on the schedule that's already had you staying at work till nearly 7 on your two free evenings a week.
Think about the students, who have brilliant smiles. Who give you any kind of encouragement they can when they see you looking, occasionally, too serious. Think about how all those hours at work are returned to you in their kindness.
Don't think about going home. Don't think about coming back. Think about going to bed and getting good rest and waking up tomorrow to start a whole other day.
So there's one person I can still talk to. A thirty-six year old Korean bartender who speaks less English than I do Korean. The possibility of something like Smalltown asking an innocent question over dinner and me bursting (nearly) into tears just doesn't exist there.
To Smalltown's credit, since the boy's finally sussed that there's a lot more going on underneath this surface than is ever let on, he's done his best.
Sitting in the dark bar on Sunday afternoon sipping on a mug of coffee and watching the man wipe down the counters before opening and the music came on. I went out on the porch to have a smoke and it felt strange to feel so at home when two army guys walked past me inside, only to be turned away (not open yet). And that sort of questioning glance about the girl having a coffee outside. I belong here as more than business. Odd.
What's more odd is having someone tell you, for the first time in a foreign language, that his mother is dead. Dead. That word in English is one thing....
Four taxi drivers. Four conversations in Korean. What was life like before this again? My ears are opening up, in the classroom too. It's to the point now where both the boys and I forget that we just communicated in Korean. More phrases and words are becoming "mine" -- I own them, in the sense that I don't have to translate them in my head. I hear them and understand.
Mostly I'm just homesick. Thinking about my family, to be perfectly honest, makes me realize how measly the bonds I have here have been. In comparison. Getting dozens of texts and phone calls in an evening is fantastic and all. But where's that one person who really knows what the hell is going on?
Don't think about that.
Don't think about how you were turned away from three banks (including your own) while trying to get a credit card so you could book your flight home because you were a foreigner.
And definitely don't think about how you've just had two more class hours tacked on the schedule that's already had you staying at work till nearly 7 on your two free evenings a week.
Think about the students, who have brilliant smiles. Who give you any kind of encouragement they can when they see you looking, occasionally, too serious. Think about how all those hours at work are returned to you in their kindness.
Don't think about going home. Don't think about coming back. Think about going to bed and getting good rest and waking up tomorrow to start a whole other day.
9.13.2009
That's all you get for now.
Well. My demo class went brilliantly, and I got all around rave reviews. Twenty-five little geniuses I had on my hands that day, I did, as those boys worked their asses off to make me look like the most brilliant teacher in the world. God, they made me proud. They did so well that I actually had my suspicions that my co-teacher got nervous and taught the idioms to them beforehand in Korean. She swears she didn't say a word, and that my class was the first time they were hearing them.
Thank fuck that's over with, anyway.
Friday night I went to a co-worker's house for dinner to meet her husband and two daughters. They lived in New York for two years and just recently moved back to Korea. Her daughters are brilliant, particularly the eldest who likes to read and wants tattoos when she gets older. It was a gorgeous meal, and so kind of them to welcome me into their home, as I am, after all, a complete stranger. I look forward to seeing the girls again soon.
During dinner, my phone started to ring with the usual Friday night nonsense, but I was too beat from the harsh work week and return to Korean class to be bothered. Plus, around 10 pm, it started to lash down rain. No thank you. Opted for an early one, so that I could wake up early to join Small Town for yet another art gallery visit in the morning.
The exhibition took ages to find, and was only possible due to my mad Korean skills and a very patient young man working behind an electronics counter in I Park Mall in Yongsan. It was shit. I don't even know why I'm mentioning it.
Then there was a 10,000 won crap sandwich and more rain, which put me in an even worse mood.
Small Town somehow talked me into returning to Insadong, where we went shopping for presents for our families upon our respective returns home (by the way, in two weeks I'll be in Texas? -- weird). He wanted to visit more galleries, but I wasn't in the mood for the Insadong meandering gape-mouthed nonsense, and headed to a coffee shop to wait for him instead, where I spent about an hour chain smoking and gazing out at the street below without even pretending to amuse myself or look busy (although I was alone), to the aghast horror of most of the Koreans around me. Honja just isn't done here.
I couldn't give a shit, to be honest. I'm a bit grumpy lately, due to my prospective return Stateside for a couple of weeks, in a couple of weeks. It's making me face all kinds of reality that I generally go out of my way to avoid. And I'm a little homesick, now that I'm giving myself the chance to be.
We decided to go to Bucheon to "change it up" a bit, but that was mostly a bust. Ended up in a decent enough little bar that was completely empty, save for a few employees who were ridiculously wicked at darts, and a three drunken Korean college guys swilling tequila and tripping over stools. After a few beers there, just shooting the shit, we decided to cab it back to Bupyeong and face the same old damn music. Of course, I left half of the (very expensive) presents I bought for my family in the cab. Fantastic.
At this point, I was basically being a total a bitch. Not in an outward kind of way, but in that way I get sometimes when I just can't be bothered making the effort anymore. Which basically consists of me sitting and staring into the middle distance, sipping my beer and refusing to engage in conversation. Small Town got a little pissed off and said he was going for a "walk". Fine by me, so long as no other fucker comes over and tries to make conversation in your absence. As luck would have it, The Korean Bodybuilder rang.
This fucking guy....
Last week, while I was out with another Korean guy in BP, I happened to run into TKB with a Korean girl that he introduced as "my girlfriend". Which is all fine and dandy, except that he called me on Friday night to "sing [me] a lullaby" to put me to sleep. Please. He showed up, and we went inside for a beer. At which point, I spotted The Boxer. TKB is nice and all, but he's sort of one of these man's men, where he can't ever get out of I'm-a-man-talking-to-a-woman mode and manage to say anything of actual interest. It's all just fluff. And not that interesting to me. This time, The Boxer didn't play it cool, but leaned over and interrupted whatever benign thing TKB was spouting, and said, "Liz. I haven't seen you here for so long. Where have you been?"
"Not going out too often on Friday nights these days, man. Work is kicking my ass...."
What happens now? TKB decides to make a big show of buying me another drink and putting his arm around my shoulder.
Excuse me? Hell no.
"Sorry [TKB]. I'm just going to go out for a smoke, real quick." Pointedly removing his arm. "[The Boxer], would you like to join me?"
Small Town commented on the competitiveness of all of this on the phone to me today. I told him it may seem all lovely on the surface, but it seriously ruffles my feathers. Why? Because, instead of being the object of attention, as it would seem, it's like I disappear completely. TKB was not concerned at that moment about the fact that I'm an actual person who would be reacting to his (bad) behavior of putting his hands on me and acting like my boyfriend when a. he's nothing of the sort and b. he already has a girlfriend (not me). He was only concerned about what the other man thought. That pisses me off.
Plus, you don't own me. If you try to mark me, like a dog pissing on a fence, it's never going to end in your favor.
Well. This pissed TKB off and right about that time, Small Town strolled back up like nothing had happened. "Where the hell did you go?"
"For a walk."
"For a fucking walk... for an hour? Please go in there and do something. I've got a situation."
The solution was that TKB and Small Town found a table of two Korean girls and fucked off to talk to them, which was absolutely fantastic to watch with The Boxer from across the bar. Apparently, TKB took it upon himself to mistranslate Small Town quite often, to the end result of one of the girls turning to ask him if he was gay. Classic stuff. What an asshole.
At some point, the owner of the bar, OJ, came over to chat for a bit. He's got literally the most fantastic smile I've ever seen, but speaks close to zero English. So, needless to say, our conversation has been a bit stunted. He took advantage of my fluent English speaking buddy The Boxer and managed to get a few things translated, before The Boxer got fed up and told me change seats and just speak to the man in Korean, for fuck sake.
The end result was OJ suggesting a language exchange. I don't agree to these things, ever. Only in the case of our dear C have I ever done so before. But OJ is different. From now on, on Saturdays and Sundays (because my schedule isn't mental enough as it is), I'll be meeting him at the bar just before it opens to start attempting to teach him English, using Korean. This should be interesting. But I have a feeling, it will be highly rewarding, in a handful of ways.
That's all you get for now.
Thank fuck that's over with, anyway.
Friday night I went to a co-worker's house for dinner to meet her husband and two daughters. They lived in New York for two years and just recently moved back to Korea. Her daughters are brilliant, particularly the eldest who likes to read and wants tattoos when she gets older. It was a gorgeous meal, and so kind of them to welcome me into their home, as I am, after all, a complete stranger. I look forward to seeing the girls again soon.
During dinner, my phone started to ring with the usual Friday night nonsense, but I was too beat from the harsh work week and return to Korean class to be bothered. Plus, around 10 pm, it started to lash down rain. No thank you. Opted for an early one, so that I could wake up early to join Small Town for yet another art gallery visit in the morning.
The exhibition took ages to find, and was only possible due to my mad Korean skills and a very patient young man working behind an electronics counter in I Park Mall in Yongsan. It was shit. I don't even know why I'm mentioning it.
Then there was a 10,000 won crap sandwich and more rain, which put me in an even worse mood.
Small Town somehow talked me into returning to Insadong, where we went shopping for presents for our families upon our respective returns home (by the way, in two weeks I'll be in Texas? -- weird). He wanted to visit more galleries, but I wasn't in the mood for the Insadong meandering gape-mouthed nonsense, and headed to a coffee shop to wait for him instead, where I spent about an hour chain smoking and gazing out at the street below without even pretending to amuse myself or look busy (although I was alone), to the aghast horror of most of the Koreans around me. Honja just isn't done here.
I couldn't give a shit, to be honest. I'm a bit grumpy lately, due to my prospective return Stateside for a couple of weeks, in a couple of weeks. It's making me face all kinds of reality that I generally go out of my way to avoid. And I'm a little homesick, now that I'm giving myself the chance to be.
We decided to go to Bucheon to "change it up" a bit, but that was mostly a bust. Ended up in a decent enough little bar that was completely empty, save for a few employees who were ridiculously wicked at darts, and a three drunken Korean college guys swilling tequila and tripping over stools. After a few beers there, just shooting the shit, we decided to cab it back to Bupyeong and face the same old damn music. Of course, I left half of the (very expensive) presents I bought for my family in the cab. Fantastic.
At this point, I was basically being a total a bitch. Not in an outward kind of way, but in that way I get sometimes when I just can't be bothered making the effort anymore. Which basically consists of me sitting and staring into the middle distance, sipping my beer and refusing to engage in conversation. Small Town got a little pissed off and said he was going for a "walk". Fine by me, so long as no other fucker comes over and tries to make conversation in your absence. As luck would have it, The Korean Bodybuilder rang.
This fucking guy....
Last week, while I was out with another Korean guy in BP, I happened to run into TKB with a Korean girl that he introduced as "my girlfriend". Which is all fine and dandy, except that he called me on Friday night to "sing [me] a lullaby" to put me to sleep. Please. He showed up, and we went inside for a beer. At which point, I spotted The Boxer. TKB is nice and all, but he's sort of one of these man's men, where he can't ever get out of I'm-a-man-talking-to-a-woman mode and manage to say anything of actual interest. It's all just fluff. And not that interesting to me. This time, The Boxer didn't play it cool, but leaned over and interrupted whatever benign thing TKB was spouting, and said, "Liz. I haven't seen you here for so long. Where have you been?"
"Not going out too often on Friday nights these days, man. Work is kicking my ass...."
What happens now? TKB decides to make a big show of buying me another drink and putting his arm around my shoulder.
Excuse me? Hell no.
"Sorry [TKB]. I'm just going to go out for a smoke, real quick." Pointedly removing his arm. "[The Boxer], would you like to join me?"
Small Town commented on the competitiveness of all of this on the phone to me today. I told him it may seem all lovely on the surface, but it seriously ruffles my feathers. Why? Because, instead of being the object of attention, as it would seem, it's like I disappear completely. TKB was not concerned at that moment about the fact that I'm an actual person who would be reacting to his (bad) behavior of putting his hands on me and acting like my boyfriend when a. he's nothing of the sort and b. he already has a girlfriend (not me). He was only concerned about what the other man thought. That pisses me off.
Plus, you don't own me. If you try to mark me, like a dog pissing on a fence, it's never going to end in your favor.
Well. This pissed TKB off and right about that time, Small Town strolled back up like nothing had happened. "Where the hell did you go?"
"For a walk."
"For a fucking walk... for an hour? Please go in there and do something. I've got a situation."
The solution was that TKB and Small Town found a table of two Korean girls and fucked off to talk to them, which was absolutely fantastic to watch with The Boxer from across the bar. Apparently, TKB took it upon himself to mistranslate Small Town quite often, to the end result of one of the girls turning to ask him if he was gay. Classic stuff. What an asshole.
At some point, the owner of the bar, OJ, came over to chat for a bit. He's got literally the most fantastic smile I've ever seen, but speaks close to zero English. So, needless to say, our conversation has been a bit stunted. He took advantage of my fluent English speaking buddy The Boxer and managed to get a few things translated, before The Boxer got fed up and told me change seats and just speak to the man in Korean, for fuck sake.
The end result was OJ suggesting a language exchange. I don't agree to these things, ever. Only in the case of our dear C have I ever done so before. But OJ is different. From now on, on Saturdays and Sundays (because my schedule isn't mental enough as it is), I'll be meeting him at the bar just before it opens to start attempting to teach him English, using Korean. This should be interesting. But I have a feeling, it will be highly rewarding, in a handful of ways.
That's all you get for now.
9.09.2009
Work stuff.
I feel like such an asshole.
I busted three students smoking today. As Coteacher put it, "Liz you are really teacher now!" Ugh. And a hypocrite, to boot.
To be fair though, they were smoking in the stairwell, which is pretty fucking stupid. Granted, few teachers come up that back way, but I happened to come to the bottom of the stairs (from below) just as one student was coming to the bottom of the stairs (from above), and was hit in the face with a wall of cigarette smoke. The student looked a little panicked and then did the only thing that made sense: he pointed upward and said, "Teacher! Student smoking!"
"I know....."
I went up on the landing to find three very recently extinguished butts. When I came back down, the student was gone. I didn't feel the need to hunt him down, as I had no intentions of ratting him out. I went back to the teachers' office and jokingly reported the incident to the other teachers. Can you identify the student? The head teacher asked, with some evident doubt. Foreigners think all Koreans look the same. My coworkers are shocked when I can tell the students apart and remember minute details about them, or can spot who is who's little/older brother among the different classes.
Well, I don't know his name or class number, but if I saw him, I'd know him. He's got braces and, no, he doesn't wear glasses.
Luck was not on this little fella's side today. He walked into the office at that exact moment, in the midst of this conversation. I felt somehow honor-bound. I indicated the guilty party, with some hesitation.
I had some doubts about whether it was him or not -- I had no solid evidence, and wasn't that bothered. However, once he began giving his story to the other teachers, I realized he was playing the The-Weoneomin-Is-Kind-Of-An-Idiot-Who-Doesn't-Speak-Korean-Or-Really-Understand-What's-Going-On card. I decided to let it slide, when he told the teachers that he had come up the stairs behind me, when in truth he had been coming down the stairs in the opposite direction. Let him off with a knowing look instead, and told the other teachers I couldn't remember and wasn't sure.
The other teachers didn't let it drop there, however. They told him to go and get his bag. When he came back, his homeroom teacher found a pack matching the brand found on the landing inside. As I was leaving, two other boys were being pulled in by their ears behind him.
Oops. Teacher is betray.
Saw a movie with the students today during the last half of work (at the theater), as it was a club-activities day. If the movie is in English, I guess it counts. After, I had dinner with Coteacher and she filled me in on some office gossip. It's nice to be in the inner-circle these days, with regards to what's going on in the school. Although Coteacher has a lot of faith in me, and my general handle on things, she's still surprised sometimes by my knowledge about what's going on and about the students in particular.
She told me one homeroom teacher is having some problems with the head teacher, who seems to be picking on her class, punishing them everyday while the homeroom teacher is out of the room. She told me the class number --308. I immediately jumped in -- "308?! They're a good class!"
"Right! I don't know that. I don't teach that class. But that's what I hear from other teachers..."
"309 and 310 have some trouble makers. If it was one of those classes, I would understand, but..."
"Liz! How do you remember that!?"
".... I taught them."
"I'm so surprised about your knowledge of the students! You are really observer."
It's not hard to know when you've got an asshole kid on your hands, to be fair. Or a few in the same class. Asshole behavior extends beyond the language barrier. Believe you me.
At any rate, we're nearing the one year mark and it seems I've finally been accepted into the fold. The other teachers no longer hesitate to speak to me in Korean in the lunchroom, and I do my best to understand and respond in Korean. I have my pet students, just like everybody else, and the teachers bring it to my attention when they misbehave, knowing that I'll be the teacher who's opinion has the strongest bearing on their behavior, and the one who can most easily put pressure on them to straighten up.
There's a new supply English teacher added to the mix, thanks to the new system. Her English is brilliant. She started out the week by introducing herself and telling me we should go out together sometime, because she told her (Korean-American) husband about me, and he suggested that I might be lonely and feeling out of place. I assumed that she had at least some experience in the classroom, and still tend to place myself below all the other Korean teachers in terms of know-how, but she revealed quite a bit to me today, before she sat in on my first class.
She was warning me that the C level (low level) students are quite difficult to engage. She said, even when I speak Korean, sometimes they're just not responsive. An alarm went off in my head -- yes, of course sometimes they're unresponsive. They're teenage boys who are stuck in classrooms all day. They're not always going to be excited to be there, or keen to listen to what it is you have to say. After my class, she came over and told me how shocked she was that I was able to teach the low level boys idioms using only English -- "They really understood! They learned them all, just in one lesson!" I comforted her by telling her that it's just their second week with the foreign teacher -- they're still eager to please and impress me. In two months' time, they won't be so keen. I'll be just another teacher trying to force them to learn something they've no interest whatsoever in.
Coteacher mentioned, at dinner, that she was worried about this new teacher, as she had no previous experience teaching at a public school. I told her the above, and how I was surprised by it, because I have no formal teaching training, and still consider myself quite green. She told me I shouldn't be so hard on myself, and that I should understand that a year in the classroom as a teacher is worth five in the classroom as a student.
The second graders have given my confidence as a teacher quite a beating in recent months, but the first graders are undoing that damage rather quickly. My old main co-teacher from last year has been in the classroom with me for the first time since November, and told me today that my teaching has progressed a ton and that she's really impressed.
I'm extremely lucky to have the co-teachers that I do, based on the stories I hear out of other foreign teachers. Co-teaching isn't easy -- not for us and not for them. But my co-teachers go out of their way to encourage me. And, since I really do look up to them quite a bit, that means a lot.
Anyway, all of this to say that tomorrow I have my observed lesson. I'm quite nervous, but trying not to psych myself out. Coteacher suggested that I should rehearse the lesson with the students ahead of time, as the students are used to this, and it's the norm for demo classes. I don't fancy the idea of boring the students with the same lesson twice, however. And I really want to show that what I do isn't completely worthless -- that teaching in the target language only can be done, and can make a difference. That the students really can learn from their foreign teachers.
I want my observers to see the students actually learning -- not regurgitating what they've already learned. I want to see them making mistakes, and see how I can correct those mistakes, even though I don't speak the students' native language. It's why I chose idioms, which are infamously difficult to teach in the target language, and made sure to go one lesson above the Korean teachers, so the students have absolutely no scaffolding in Korean already in place.
I hope my observers have tolerance for that, and don't expect the usual dog-and-pony show. Things may not go perfectly tomorrow, but I'm going to go in and do what I always do and trust that my students will make me proud.
I busted three students smoking today. As Coteacher put it, "Liz you are really teacher now!" Ugh. And a hypocrite, to boot.
To be fair though, they were smoking in the stairwell, which is pretty fucking stupid. Granted, few teachers come up that back way, but I happened to come to the bottom of the stairs (from below) just as one student was coming to the bottom of the stairs (from above), and was hit in the face with a wall of cigarette smoke. The student looked a little panicked and then did the only thing that made sense: he pointed upward and said, "Teacher! Student smoking!"
"I know....."
I went up on the landing to find three very recently extinguished butts. When I came back down, the student was gone. I didn't feel the need to hunt him down, as I had no intentions of ratting him out. I went back to the teachers' office and jokingly reported the incident to the other teachers. Can you identify the student? The head teacher asked, with some evident doubt. Foreigners think all Koreans look the same. My coworkers are shocked when I can tell the students apart and remember minute details about them, or can spot who is who's little/older brother among the different classes.
Well, I don't know his name or class number, but if I saw him, I'd know him. He's got braces and, no, he doesn't wear glasses.
Luck was not on this little fella's side today. He walked into the office at that exact moment, in the midst of this conversation. I felt somehow honor-bound. I indicated the guilty party, with some hesitation.
I had some doubts about whether it was him or not -- I had no solid evidence, and wasn't that bothered. However, once he began giving his story to the other teachers, I realized he was playing the The-Weoneomin-Is-Kind-Of-An-Idiot-Who-Doesn't-Speak-Korean-Or-Really-Understand-What's-Going-On card. I decided to let it slide, when he told the teachers that he had come up the stairs behind me, when in truth he had been coming down the stairs in the opposite direction. Let him off with a knowing look instead, and told the other teachers I couldn't remember and wasn't sure.
The other teachers didn't let it drop there, however. They told him to go and get his bag. When he came back, his homeroom teacher found a pack matching the brand found on the landing inside. As I was leaving, two other boys were being pulled in by their ears behind him.
Oops. Teacher is betray.
Saw a movie with the students today during the last half of work (at the theater), as it was a club-activities day. If the movie is in English, I guess it counts. After, I had dinner with Coteacher and she filled me in on some office gossip. It's nice to be in the inner-circle these days, with regards to what's going on in the school. Although Coteacher has a lot of faith in me, and my general handle on things, she's still surprised sometimes by my knowledge about what's going on and about the students in particular.
She told me one homeroom teacher is having some problems with the head teacher, who seems to be picking on her class, punishing them everyday while the homeroom teacher is out of the room. She told me the class number --308. I immediately jumped in -- "308?! They're a good class!"
"Right! I don't know that. I don't teach that class. But that's what I hear from other teachers..."
"309 and 310 have some trouble makers. If it was one of those classes, I would understand, but..."
"Liz! How do you remember that!?"
".... I taught them."
"I'm so surprised about your knowledge of the students! You are really observer."
It's not hard to know when you've got an asshole kid on your hands, to be fair. Or a few in the same class. Asshole behavior extends beyond the language barrier. Believe you me.
At any rate, we're nearing the one year mark and it seems I've finally been accepted into the fold. The other teachers no longer hesitate to speak to me in Korean in the lunchroom, and I do my best to understand and respond in Korean. I have my pet students, just like everybody else, and the teachers bring it to my attention when they misbehave, knowing that I'll be the teacher who's opinion has the strongest bearing on their behavior, and the one who can most easily put pressure on them to straighten up.
There's a new supply English teacher added to the mix, thanks to the new system. Her English is brilliant. She started out the week by introducing herself and telling me we should go out together sometime, because she told her (Korean-American) husband about me, and he suggested that I might be lonely and feeling out of place. I assumed that she had at least some experience in the classroom, and still tend to place myself below all the other Korean teachers in terms of know-how, but she revealed quite a bit to me today, before she sat in on my first class.
She was warning me that the C level (low level) students are quite difficult to engage. She said, even when I speak Korean, sometimes they're just not responsive. An alarm went off in my head -- yes, of course sometimes they're unresponsive. They're teenage boys who are stuck in classrooms all day. They're not always going to be excited to be there, or keen to listen to what it is you have to say. After my class, she came over and told me how shocked she was that I was able to teach the low level boys idioms using only English -- "They really understood! They learned them all, just in one lesson!" I comforted her by telling her that it's just their second week with the foreign teacher -- they're still eager to please and impress me. In two months' time, they won't be so keen. I'll be just another teacher trying to force them to learn something they've no interest whatsoever in.
Coteacher mentioned, at dinner, that she was worried about this new teacher, as she had no previous experience teaching at a public school. I told her the above, and how I was surprised by it, because I have no formal teaching training, and still consider myself quite green. She told me I shouldn't be so hard on myself, and that I should understand that a year in the classroom as a teacher is worth five in the classroom as a student.
The second graders have given my confidence as a teacher quite a beating in recent months, but the first graders are undoing that damage rather quickly. My old main co-teacher from last year has been in the classroom with me for the first time since November, and told me today that my teaching has progressed a ton and that she's really impressed.
I'm extremely lucky to have the co-teachers that I do, based on the stories I hear out of other foreign teachers. Co-teaching isn't easy -- not for us and not for them. But my co-teachers go out of their way to encourage me. And, since I really do look up to them quite a bit, that means a lot.
Anyway, all of this to say that tomorrow I have my observed lesson. I'm quite nervous, but trying not to psych myself out. Coteacher suggested that I should rehearse the lesson with the students ahead of time, as the students are used to this, and it's the norm for demo classes. I don't fancy the idea of boring the students with the same lesson twice, however. And I really want to show that what I do isn't completely worthless -- that teaching in the target language only can be done, and can make a difference. That the students really can learn from their foreign teachers.
I want my observers to see the students actually learning -- not regurgitating what they've already learned. I want to see them making mistakes, and see how I can correct those mistakes, even though I don't speak the students' native language. It's why I chose idioms, which are infamously difficult to teach in the target language, and made sure to go one lesson above the Korean teachers, so the students have absolutely no scaffolding in Korean already in place.
I hope my observers have tolerance for that, and don't expect the usual dog-and-pony show. Things may not go perfectly tomorrow, but I'm going to go in and do what I always do and trust that my students will make me proud.
9.07.2009
넘버 원.
Just a quick post to say that the boys are doing really well this week, and I'm proud of them, as I so often am. But also their behavior in general is starting to get a bit wild again, I guess in anticipation of the upcoming Chooseok holiday. Today there was some kind of video assembly that involved my always-favorite activity of 1,500 boys belting out the school song pure noraebang style at the top of their lungs and completely off key. There's no other sound like this in the world. They really get into it. Then some sort of siren went off in the school and they all started shrieking like girls.
Also, there were some muffins I bought for the samgyeopsal party left over and they literally tore into them like a pack of dogs, running up and down the hallways shoving as much as they could into their mouths in mid-sprint before someone else could grab what was left out of their hands.
Animals.
The third graders have been doing odd things the last couple of weeks, like coming to the English Zone to ask if I have any tape they can borrow. I mentioned this to Coteacher today who informed me that she and the other Korean teachers have told them to stop whining about not having class with me anymore and just go up and say hello between classes. She laughed and said, "Is really like date! They're too nervous to come without a reason..."
Shorty phoned me at 2 am last night. We need to have a chat about phone privileges.
And last, but definitely not least, I was informed tonight that I got the highest score in my class on my Korean final exam. Remarkable, considering I went in as the second lowest level student, right in front of the sixteen year old who couldn't even read. Tonight I had time to really process the amount of progress I made, as I was the only student who showed up for the first hour, and had to take all of the instruction in Korean one-on-one, and respond to all of the teacher's questions directly. Usually, I just don't speak much in class, which is part of why my speaking ability remains so low. To think that when I first came in, introducing myself in Korean was a humiliating task. And that was not even two months ago.
I'm excited to see where I'll be at the end of this term. I have a feeling this term is going to be a really big one, as far as progress goes. If only I had just a little more time to study.
Dead tired. Six classes today, and six most other days this week. Plus back on the work-Korean class treadmill. Bed.
Also, there were some muffins I bought for the samgyeopsal party left over and they literally tore into them like a pack of dogs, running up and down the hallways shoving as much as they could into their mouths in mid-sprint before someone else could grab what was left out of their hands.
Animals.
The third graders have been doing odd things the last couple of weeks, like coming to the English Zone to ask if I have any tape they can borrow. I mentioned this to Coteacher today who informed me that she and the other Korean teachers have told them to stop whining about not having class with me anymore and just go up and say hello between classes. She laughed and said, "Is really like date! They're too nervous to come without a reason..."
Shorty phoned me at 2 am last night. We need to have a chat about phone privileges.
And last, but definitely not least, I was informed tonight that I got the highest score in my class on my Korean final exam. Remarkable, considering I went in as the second lowest level student, right in front of the sixteen year old who couldn't even read. Tonight I had time to really process the amount of progress I made, as I was the only student who showed up for the first hour, and had to take all of the instruction in Korean one-on-one, and respond to all of the teacher's questions directly. Usually, I just don't speak much in class, which is part of why my speaking ability remains so low. To think that when I first came in, introducing myself in Korean was a humiliating task. And that was not even two months ago.
I'm excited to see where I'll be at the end of this term. I have a feeling this term is going to be a really big one, as far as progress goes. If only I had just a little more time to study.
Dead tired. Six classes today, and six most other days this week. Plus back on the work-Korean class treadmill. Bed.
9.06.2009
Some rest, as well.
Another weekend.
After Thursday night's shenanigans, I was too tired to get up to anything on Friday. Plus, I had a date on Saturday with class 313 for a samgyeopsal party. I didn't figure it would be on to show up hungover and reeking of alcohol. It was really nice to get a chance to spend some time with the boys outside of class, or the ten minutes we have during passing periods to talk. The boys, who eat in their classrooms away from the teachers, were excited to feed their weoneomin kimchi for the first time, and watch her expertly deal with the samgyeopsal using, of all things, chopsticks.
They managed to get ahold of my phone and go through the text messages, which they were shocked to find were mostly in English. For some reason, the ones in Korean didn't phase them. After all, people get text messages in Korean -- not in English. Even if the recipient is their native speaking English teacher who can't really speak Korean. Chingyoo (featured above modeling my sunglasses) even used my phone to call his, and thusly sent me approximately ten text messages last night. In English.
After, Coteacher and I went to see Black at the theater, both mistakenly expecting it to be in English. Actually, I didn't know anything about the film. I might have suspected, otherwise. Let me tell you, listening to Hindi while watching sign language and trying to read Korean subtitles....
Well. At any rate, between the Korean, the sign language and the occasional line in English, I did actually manage to follow most of what was going on. But what a headache.
I came home and almost immediately fell asleep. When I woke up at 10, all kinds of nonsense had gone down on my phone. Chatted with C for a bit, who is back from his trip with Garfield and J to Jeju-do this weekend, where J managed to get into a motorcycle accident. Those boys. After checking in with J, I was reassured that he was okay and safe at home with G watching the football, while C ran to Emart. Smalltown phoned from the train, after having a somewhat disastrous date and requesting company for a sympathy pint. Although it was nearly 11, there's no way you can say no to that.
It was a really nice evening out where, for once, it didn't feel like we were waiting around for something to happen. Just hanging out with friends, chatting with some of the other foreigners and Koreans we've gotten to know from around, playing pocketball and barely drinking.
Aigee 2, who shall from here on out be known as Shorty, works all night on Friday and Saturday and has been extremely reluctant to tell me what he does. I had already sussed it as convenience store clerking, of course. It was either that or a host bar, and he just doesn't seem world-weary enough for it to be the latter. Around 2 am, I sent him a message just saying hello and not to work too hard. He phoned back right away to ask where I was, if I had seen him. He assumed that I didn't remember he was working, but had instead seen him inside the shop. I told him that wasn't the case and finally convinced him to tell me where he was, so I could stop in and say hello.
I told Smalltown he had to meet this kid, that, although he is young, he's smart and has a great heart and way of relating to the world around him. And, although he is studying English to study abroad, his genuine interest in befriending foreigners comes from the time he's already spent abroad, where he was made, essentially, to feel like a ghost. He started trying to explain this on Thursday, but he often gets hung up and frustrated when he tries to speak on deeper subjects in English. I told him that he didn't have to explain, that I had tutored Korean students in New York and was already well-versed on what it was like to be a Korean foreigner in a Western city.
I reminded him of the speech I had given him the first night we met. I told him that being a foreigner in Korea is much different, in that, instead of feeling invisible, you feel extremely fucking visible all the time, but the bottom line is the same -- you can't ever seem to truly get inside. You can't break past the cultural barriers, and become somebody's true friend.
With this kid, it's different. Already we contact each other with ease and speak openly on all sorts of matters. He's a wicked little pretty-faced Scorpio with a knack for going on about how he only wants to date foreign girls, and only likes 'older women', but he's yet in the baby stages of womanizing and essentially harmless, even when he talks trash. I like him.
We spent the whole night sitting outside his shop drinking Cass out of paper cups and eating foil-wrapped dried squid that he produced out of literally nowhere. Every ten minutes or so, he'd run inside to tend to a customer. Once the sun started coming up, Smalltown and I decided to grab a coffee and head home.
While we were sitting on the bench in front of the station, enjoying one last cigarette together, a Korean man came up behind us and asked in Korean if either of us spoke Korean well. I responded that I spoke just a little. He pointed down the sidewalk to anther bench and told me that there was a foreigner who was drunk and whose wallet was on the ground. The utter kindness of this man, to see this situation and, instead of getting worked up about trashy alcoholic foreigners and the like, to come find other foreigners who spoke this person's language to go over and help him out, make sure he was safe, was a very nice experience to end the evening with. We went over and put the guy's wallet into his bag (being that he was essentially unresponsive) and I tried to get him first to a bathroom, and then into a cab, but there was really nothing better for him to do but to sit on that bench for a while and sober up a bit, until he could remember and articulate where he lived at least. At least his money and ARC card were safe.
I've spent today doing nothing essentially productive. Meeting with Shorty cancelled due to a surprise visit from Oma, but we will meet either on Wednesday or next Sunday.
Tomorrow starts one hell of a busy week. I actually have to go in a bit early in the morning to make sure I get everything done that needs to be done before classes start. Aish. And Korean classes resume. One foot in front of the other. Life continues to get more and more interesting. Let's just hope that, at times, there can be some rest as well.
After Thursday night's shenanigans, I was too tired to get up to anything on Friday. Plus, I had a date on Saturday with class 313 for a samgyeopsal party. I didn't figure it would be on to show up hungover and reeking of alcohol. It was really nice to get a chance to spend some time with the boys outside of class, or the ten minutes we have during passing periods to talk. The boys, who eat in their classrooms away from the teachers, were excited to feed their weoneomin kimchi for the first time, and watch her expertly deal with the samgyeopsal using, of all things, chopsticks.
They managed to get ahold of my phone and go through the text messages, which they were shocked to find were mostly in English. For some reason, the ones in Korean didn't phase them. After all, people get text messages in Korean -- not in English. Even if the recipient is their native speaking English teacher who can't really speak Korean. Chingyoo (featured above modeling my sunglasses) even used my phone to call his, and thusly sent me approximately ten text messages last night. In English.
After, Coteacher and I went to see Black at the theater, both mistakenly expecting it to be in English. Actually, I didn't know anything about the film. I might have suspected, otherwise. Let me tell you, listening to Hindi while watching sign language and trying to read Korean subtitles....
Well. At any rate, between the Korean, the sign language and the occasional line in English, I did actually manage to follow most of what was going on. But what a headache.
I came home and almost immediately fell asleep. When I woke up at 10, all kinds of nonsense had gone down on my phone. Chatted with C for a bit, who is back from his trip with Garfield and J to Jeju-do this weekend, where J managed to get into a motorcycle accident. Those boys. After checking in with J, I was reassured that he was okay and safe at home with G watching the football, while C ran to Emart. Smalltown phoned from the train, after having a somewhat disastrous date and requesting company for a sympathy pint. Although it was nearly 11, there's no way you can say no to that.
It was a really nice evening out where, for once, it didn't feel like we were waiting around for something to happen. Just hanging out with friends, chatting with some of the other foreigners and Koreans we've gotten to know from around, playing pocketball and barely drinking.
Aigee 2, who shall from here on out be known as Shorty, works all night on Friday and Saturday and has been extremely reluctant to tell me what he does. I had already sussed it as convenience store clerking, of course. It was either that or a host bar, and he just doesn't seem world-weary enough for it to be the latter. Around 2 am, I sent him a message just saying hello and not to work too hard. He phoned back right away to ask where I was, if I had seen him. He assumed that I didn't remember he was working, but had instead seen him inside the shop. I told him that wasn't the case and finally convinced him to tell me where he was, so I could stop in and say hello.
I told Smalltown he had to meet this kid, that, although he is young, he's smart and has a great heart and way of relating to the world around him. And, although he is studying English to study abroad, his genuine interest in befriending foreigners comes from the time he's already spent abroad, where he was made, essentially, to feel like a ghost. He started trying to explain this on Thursday, but he often gets hung up and frustrated when he tries to speak on deeper subjects in English. I told him that he didn't have to explain, that I had tutored Korean students in New York and was already well-versed on what it was like to be a Korean foreigner in a Western city.
I reminded him of the speech I had given him the first night we met. I told him that being a foreigner in Korea is much different, in that, instead of feeling invisible, you feel extremely fucking visible all the time, but the bottom line is the same -- you can't ever seem to truly get inside. You can't break past the cultural barriers, and become somebody's true friend.
With this kid, it's different. Already we contact each other with ease and speak openly on all sorts of matters. He's a wicked little pretty-faced Scorpio with a knack for going on about how he only wants to date foreign girls, and only likes 'older women', but he's yet in the baby stages of womanizing and essentially harmless, even when he talks trash. I like him.
We spent the whole night sitting outside his shop drinking Cass out of paper cups and eating foil-wrapped dried squid that he produced out of literally nowhere. Every ten minutes or so, he'd run inside to tend to a customer. Once the sun started coming up, Smalltown and I decided to grab a coffee and head home.
While we were sitting on the bench in front of the station, enjoying one last cigarette together, a Korean man came up behind us and asked in Korean if either of us spoke Korean well. I responded that I spoke just a little. He pointed down the sidewalk to anther bench and told me that there was a foreigner who was drunk and whose wallet was on the ground. The utter kindness of this man, to see this situation and, instead of getting worked up about trashy alcoholic foreigners and the like, to come find other foreigners who spoke this person's language to go over and help him out, make sure he was safe, was a very nice experience to end the evening with. We went over and put the guy's wallet into his bag (being that he was essentially unresponsive) and I tried to get him first to a bathroom, and then into a cab, but there was really nothing better for him to do but to sit on that bench for a while and sober up a bit, until he could remember and articulate where he lived at least. At least his money and ARC card were safe.
I've spent today doing nothing essentially productive. Meeting with Shorty cancelled due to a surprise visit from Oma, but we will meet either on Wednesday or next Sunday.
Tomorrow starts one hell of a busy week. I actually have to go in a bit early in the morning to make sure I get everything done that needs to be done before classes start. Aish. And Korean classes resume. One foot in front of the other. Life continues to get more and more interesting. Let's just hope that, at times, there can be some rest as well.
9.03.2009
Fuck.
Aigee 2 just phoned.
"I know already we have the plan to meet on Sunday. But I want to see you now."
"I have work in the morning."
"I know that. I know that you have work in the morning. But I want to see you now."
Why are the little ones so hard to say no to? If you don't hear from me for a while, it's because I got fired for being a drunkass and am in the process of being deported.
Just one beer. Maybe two. Just two beers.
Fuck.
"I know already we have the plan to meet on Sunday. But I want to see you now."
"I have work in the morning."
"I know that. I know that you have work in the morning. But I want to see you now."
Why are the little ones so hard to say no to? If you don't hear from me for a while, it's because I got fired for being a drunkass and am in the process of being deported.
Just one beer. Maybe two. Just two beers.
Fuck.
Teacha habuh boyprienduh.
My co-teacher is a genius. She's given up fighting our almost-high school boys about their damn hair and has just started calling the ones who won't cut it into the office where she does it up nice in pretty in a bow or a clip and then takes their photo with her cell phone, being sure to save it and send it to them on their phones. This was made more torturous by the weoneomin (yours truly), who sat in her chair sighing and cooing, "aaah jinjah eepeuda!" They're now officially known as "my pretty girls". Poor babies.
The second graders are shooting up like beanstalks and have begun saying things straight to my face like, "Teacha. Nice-uh shape-uh. Sekshi." Hormones. What a joy.
I was also informed that another new young, single female teacher has been in distress all week by the boys distracted behavior during her class. The homeroom teachers managed to suss the reason and pass it along to me: the boys are spending the entire period pondering her nose and whether or not she's had plastic surgery.
Seungtak, aka Animal, has also been made wangta this week due to the fact that he has a raging case of pink eye. And nobody's allowed to touch me for the next month, because both the swine flu and strep throat are making the rounds. The dirty little bastards managed to catch H1N1 even though none of them have been abroad (shocking, I know, since it clearly hasn't reached Korea at all yet), yet I'm the one who gets a special warning from the nurse that I need to be careful about being around foreigners and "keep [myself] clean". Asshole. How does a country that's so developed in the fields of medicine and science still manage to be so backassed and superstitious?
In other news, one of the babies from last week (Aigee 2) has been holding true to his word to use my phone number. A little too true. He phoned yesterday while I was at work, and then again today. After the second missed call, I got a text all in caps: "HEY WHY DIDN'T PICK UP THE CALL??" Even though I did phone him back last night. I called him on my walk home, with the boys taking the opportunity to shout, "YO YO YO! HEY MAN WASSUP!" into the phone as I walked past.
"Hey why you don't pick up my phone calls!"
"I was working. I'm just now leaving school. Can't you hear the boys?"
"Ooooh. You finish work now?"
"Yes. I finish work now."
We've got a plan to meet on Sunday. Why? Because I have nothing better to do. Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
After I hung up the phone, there was a round of, "Teacha. Boyprienduh?" by the surrounding pack of mongrels.
"Boys. Privacy."
"Aah aaaah! Pribacy! Okay! Teacha habuh boyprienduh...."
Fuck sake.
G-Dragon. You go girl:
The second graders are shooting up like beanstalks and have begun saying things straight to my face like, "Teacha. Nice-uh shape-uh. Sekshi." Hormones. What a joy.
I was also informed that another new young, single female teacher has been in distress all week by the boys distracted behavior during her class. The homeroom teachers managed to suss the reason and pass it along to me: the boys are spending the entire period pondering her nose and whether or not she's had plastic surgery.
Seungtak, aka Animal, has also been made wangta this week due to the fact that he has a raging case of pink eye. And nobody's allowed to touch me for the next month, because both the swine flu and strep throat are making the rounds. The dirty little bastards managed to catch H1N1 even though none of them have been abroad (shocking, I know, since it clearly hasn't reached Korea at all yet), yet I'm the one who gets a special warning from the nurse that I need to be careful about being around foreigners and "keep [myself] clean". Asshole. How does a country that's so developed in the fields of medicine and science still manage to be so backassed and superstitious?
In other news, one of the babies from last week (Aigee 2) has been holding true to his word to use my phone number. A little too true. He phoned yesterday while I was at work, and then again today. After the second missed call, I got a text all in caps: "HEY WHY DIDN'T PICK UP THE CALL??" Even though I did phone him back last night. I called him on my walk home, with the boys taking the opportunity to shout, "YO YO YO! HEY MAN WASSUP!" into the phone as I walked past.
"Hey why you don't pick up my phone calls!"
"I was working. I'm just now leaving school. Can't you hear the boys?"
"Ooooh. You finish work now?"
"Yes. I finish work now."
We've got a plan to meet on Sunday. Why? Because I have nothing better to do. Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
After I hung up the phone, there was a round of, "Teacha. Boyprienduh?" by the surrounding pack of mongrels.
"Boys. Privacy."
"Aah aaaah! Pribacy! Okay! Teacha habuh boyprienduh...."
Fuck sake.
G-Dragon. You go girl:
9.02.2009
YES!
YES! YES! KOREA FIGHTING! YOU CAN DO IT!
Oh sweet Jesus. Finally, women in the media being something other than cute. I want to marry every last one of those girls.
In related news, you should've seen the heads turn when me and my three gorgeous, high-heel wearing female co-workers walked into the pool hall tonight. We had to switch to "Unni", so they wouldn't know what we do for a living.....
9.01.2009
I don't understand "olleh!".
There are a million and one things I don't mention here. A million and one things that fall between the cracks of the reports of daily life as a teacher, as a person with a reasonably amusing social life. A person who's trying very hard to adjust to a new culture, learn a new language, acquire skills in a new profession. A million and one things that just break through at different moments throughout the day and make me remember again, for the nth time today, this week, this month, this year why I'm here, why I'm staying another year.
It's too late to be calling it the honeymoon phase, but I guess you could say we're still newly weds. From the Buddhist prayers that play out over the concrete hills of my neighborhood in the evenings, to the boys peeking out at me from under their arms, stretched into impossible positions of "punishment", to smile from inside their classrooms, as I walk down the hallway outside. The ajeoshi playing GoStop on a green mat under the car park every afternoon on my walk home. The various shop ajumas who push my Korean a little further every week when I stop in, commenting to the lingering neighborhood shoppers on how good I'm getting, how they remember when I first came and I couldn't understand a word.
With the beginning of this new contract, I've cause to stop and think for a moment that I could have been walking away from all of this in about a month. I've been so busy lately that I haven't had time to contemplate my future, or what it means to be here, to choose to stay here. It's just been one foot in front of the other for a while now, and much more like running than walking. But at the thought of being somewhere else -- even just the thought -- my heart aches a little. I didn't expect to love this place. The experience, the challenge and the newness -- yes. But the place itself, I didn't think it would get inside like this.
The new boys coming in make me feel so permanent. They don't have the experience of witnessing me as a wide-eyed new arrival, unsure on her feet. They speak to me in Korean and don't bat an eye when I understand, and repeat back to them what they said in English. I have this gut feeling like these are my boys, the ones I will watch grow up from four foot little munchkins carrying on about Pikachu into six foot nearly-men holding hands with girls outside the shops after school. I'll know their names, their habits and their interests. I'll spend two full years teaching them.
The third graders are not taking kindly to the whole situation. It's evidence of an underlying issue, really. When they see me walking home with the first graders, who speak in paragraphs, they try to get my attention, but can only manage a couple of words. They mumble to each other, using not very kind Korean terminology to refer to the younger boys, about hagwon and having money.
I feel like time is my enemy. If I had started taking classes sooner, if I had been studying harder this whole year, I would be able to understand them when they spoke in paragraphs, in their native tongue. It's a barrier I just can't forgive, not on any level -- not with the students, and not in my personal life.
The other teachers have been asking why I'm interested in learning Korean. My co-teachers tell them that I have an interest in language. Wrong. I have an interest in people. Language is just this stupid, fucked up thing that keeps getting in the way.
Part of the reason why I cling to my students so much is that I feel, sometimes, like they are the only people here that I can really trust. They don't give a shit about improving their English, or practicing conversation with a native speaker -- they talk to me, make the real effort, because they want to talk to me. Part of the reason -- a big part of the reason -- why I'm so hell-bent on becoming fluent in Korean as soon as possible is so that, frankly, I never have to speak to another Korean who's studying English ever again. I don't have to spend my time with waegookin groupies and people who fetishize foreigners. I can make normal friends, with normal interests, who don't give a shit about what my native language is.
There have been a rash of teachers at school recently who are mothers of young children, who have been suggesting that I give up my one free day during the week (Wednesday) or my Saturday mornings, to plan lessons and teach their kids for free. It isn't about the kids -- I love kids, and would love to get to know theirs. It's about the disrespect of the entire situation -- the fact that these women seem to have no problem making it completely obvious that they believe I'm in this country only to be an English robot. Like I don't have a personal life, or people back home that I have to spend time and energy connecting and keeping in touch with. They don't have personal relationships with me -- we have no jeong. And even after I explain how busy I am, between work and Korean classes, they simply mention the fact that they know I don't have to work on Saturdays, and so I must have some free time then.
It's absolutely shameless. And so are the (albeit more innocent) people who march straight up to you in a bar and announce that they want to be your friend because they want their English to improve.
Really? So what's in it for me?
After that, the only way they pass muster is if they take their own initiative to communicate with me partially in Korean. This has become the litmus test.
But, to be honest, I'd rather just do away with the entire thing altogether. Just learn Korean and avoid these people who are leaving to study abroad in three months. At the moment, I don't have much of an option.
Obviously, I didn't mean for this post to be so pessimistic. I'm still enjoying my time here, and the people that I meet everyday. And I'm not ruling everyone out. Just reflecting on what I would like to have open to me in the future. Even the small conversations that have opened up since I've been studying have been enough to keep me sane in the face of all the other. I'll keep working hard, even if my progression is slow. Although I have so little patience for myself, my motivation is strong and every day there are signs of encouragement.
Fighting. I have a habit of meeting the students' resistance to participate in class with the battle cry, "Oh come on! You can do it!" The new babies have quite a fondness for this, and now announce to the entire class before reading out an answer, "I can do it!"
I can do it. Olleh!
It's too late to be calling it the honeymoon phase, but I guess you could say we're still newly weds. From the Buddhist prayers that play out over the concrete hills of my neighborhood in the evenings, to the boys peeking out at me from under their arms, stretched into impossible positions of "punishment", to smile from inside their classrooms, as I walk down the hallway outside. The ajeoshi playing GoStop on a green mat under the car park every afternoon on my walk home. The various shop ajumas who push my Korean a little further every week when I stop in, commenting to the lingering neighborhood shoppers on how good I'm getting, how they remember when I first came and I couldn't understand a word.
With the beginning of this new contract, I've cause to stop and think for a moment that I could have been walking away from all of this in about a month. I've been so busy lately that I haven't had time to contemplate my future, or what it means to be here, to choose to stay here. It's just been one foot in front of the other for a while now, and much more like running than walking. But at the thought of being somewhere else -- even just the thought -- my heart aches a little. I didn't expect to love this place. The experience, the challenge and the newness -- yes. But the place itself, I didn't think it would get inside like this.
The new boys coming in make me feel so permanent. They don't have the experience of witnessing me as a wide-eyed new arrival, unsure on her feet. They speak to me in Korean and don't bat an eye when I understand, and repeat back to them what they said in English. I have this gut feeling like these are my boys, the ones I will watch grow up from four foot little munchkins carrying on about Pikachu into six foot nearly-men holding hands with girls outside the shops after school. I'll know their names, their habits and their interests. I'll spend two full years teaching them.
The third graders are not taking kindly to the whole situation. It's evidence of an underlying issue, really. When they see me walking home with the first graders, who speak in paragraphs, they try to get my attention, but can only manage a couple of words. They mumble to each other, using not very kind Korean terminology to refer to the younger boys, about hagwon and having money.
I feel like time is my enemy. If I had started taking classes sooner, if I had been studying harder this whole year, I would be able to understand them when they spoke in paragraphs, in their native tongue. It's a barrier I just can't forgive, not on any level -- not with the students, and not in my personal life.
The other teachers have been asking why I'm interested in learning Korean. My co-teachers tell them that I have an interest in language. Wrong. I have an interest in people. Language is just this stupid, fucked up thing that keeps getting in the way.
Part of the reason why I cling to my students so much is that I feel, sometimes, like they are the only people here that I can really trust. They don't give a shit about improving their English, or practicing conversation with a native speaker -- they talk to me, make the real effort, because they want to talk to me. Part of the reason -- a big part of the reason -- why I'm so hell-bent on becoming fluent in Korean as soon as possible is so that, frankly, I never have to speak to another Korean who's studying English ever again. I don't have to spend my time with waegookin groupies and people who fetishize foreigners. I can make normal friends, with normal interests, who don't give a shit about what my native language is.
There have been a rash of teachers at school recently who are mothers of young children, who have been suggesting that I give up my one free day during the week (Wednesday) or my Saturday mornings, to plan lessons and teach their kids for free. It isn't about the kids -- I love kids, and would love to get to know theirs. It's about the disrespect of the entire situation -- the fact that these women seem to have no problem making it completely obvious that they believe I'm in this country only to be an English robot. Like I don't have a personal life, or people back home that I have to spend time and energy connecting and keeping in touch with. They don't have personal relationships with me -- we have no jeong. And even after I explain how busy I am, between work and Korean classes, they simply mention the fact that they know I don't have to work on Saturdays, and so I must have some free time then.
It's absolutely shameless. And so are the (albeit more innocent) people who march straight up to you in a bar and announce that they want to be your friend because they want their English to improve.
Really? So what's in it for me?
After that, the only way they pass muster is if they take their own initiative to communicate with me partially in Korean. This has become the litmus test.
But, to be honest, I'd rather just do away with the entire thing altogether. Just learn Korean and avoid these people who are leaving to study abroad in three months. At the moment, I don't have much of an option.
Obviously, I didn't mean for this post to be so pessimistic. I'm still enjoying my time here, and the people that I meet everyday. And I'm not ruling everyone out. Just reflecting on what I would like to have open to me in the future. Even the small conversations that have opened up since I've been studying have been enough to keep me sane in the face of all the other. I'll keep working hard, even if my progression is slow. Although I have so little patience for myself, my motivation is strong and every day there are signs of encouragement.
Fighting. I have a habit of meeting the students' resistance to participate in class with the battle cry, "Oh come on! You can do it!" The new babies have quite a fondness for this, and now announce to the entire class before reading out an answer, "I can do it!"
I can do it. Olleh!
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