Oh. OH.
So fucking....
I cannot wait to hang out with foreigners tonight.
Look. I know we're all human beings and all the same and blah blah fucking blah. But anybody who's ever been on either side of the cultural divide will tell you, sometimes you need to just hang with your "own". Where you know your personality, your sense of humor and your way of interacting are all (mostly) perfectly acceptable. And more importantly, people "get" you.
I realize that isn't a PC thing to say. But someone who has lived abroad before (foreign or Korean), please contradict me on this. You know we all have our moments.
Bring on the waegs.
P.S. -- Willie's dressing as a high school student. 변태선생님.
I want to hear at least ten dirty jokes tonight, and somebody better touch me inappropriately. See you dirty foreigners in Itaewon.
(The weather today reminds me of this song, which was once used in a life-changing lecture we attended in high school given by a journalist we were in love with, as an example of how to properly tell "The Story".)
10.31.2009
10.30.2009
Lately.
Would you really think I would be above it?
Well, you would be wrong.
I spent the majority of my time today making the third graders dance for candy. Why? Because all my classes got canceled and I was bored and because I could. They bum-rushed the EOZ at lunchtime, and by the time I made it up there, there were approximately sixty clambering boys, climbing over each other and shouting, "TEACHA! TRICK OR TREAT! CHUPA CHUP! I LOVE YOU!"
"WHOA! Wait a minute... where's my present?"
They consulted amongst themselves for a moment and then, in a beautifully synchronized show, all put their hands to their chests and declared, "Teacha present my heart!"
"Oh. No thank you. HEY MAKE A LINE! Animals...."
Of course, I noticed about five minutes in that there was some sort of looping effect going on with the line. Today was the day they learned for a fact that their weoneomin can tell them apart. And they now think "go away" means something equivalent to, "I already gave you candy," a la: "Happy Halloween. Happy Halloween. You -- go away. Happy Halloween. You -- go away."
They started policing each other, in case one slipped past my excellent memory: "NOOOO! TEACHA HE GO AWAY!"
I got the Sorry Sorry dance, the Abracadabera dance, the Nobody Nobody But You dance and the Again and Again dance. And a few rather creative free-style numbers. A few tried their hand at sekshi dacing, American style. In those cases, I told them I would give them candy to stop and promise never to do that again, especially in front of a girl.
And, of course, there was:
In other news, it turns out my after school classes are going to continue even though I was told I had the choice to stop them before I went home for vacation, and said I would prefer to (at that time planning to continue on with Korean classes). I don't really mind, because I was feeling rather disappointed that they were ending anyway. Other than the fact that I feel like I was pretty well ignored. But I guess I won't make an issue out of it. Chances were, it was probably just a misunderstanding anyway.
The poor boys, however, were under the impression (because I was under the same impression) that they wouldn't have a seven period anymore. I had to break the news to them yesterday. One mouthy (but overall decent) student was kicking up a particularly loud stink about the whole thing, while I was explaining that I'm just the weoneomin -- not the principal: I just obey, and if they have a problem with it, they have to take it to the Korean teachers. "TEACHA WHY! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY!" This continued on until I finally feigned anger and stopped talking.
The class settled into a deadly silence.
"Listen... here's the real reason we have more seven classes.... okay? Ready?"
"Ready..."
"It's because I love you so much that I can't let you go."
"TEACHA!!! OOOH!"
"No really! I love you so much that I want to teach you everyday for the rest of my life! I love making millions of copies of all these books for you! Everyday, it's my dream to hear you complain about the worksheets! My life is nothing without this!"
"TEACHAAAAA!"
"What? You don't believe that?"
"NO!"
"Then be quiet. It's not my choice either. We have to endure."
I'm finally winning those last two little pains in the ass over, as well. The 기분 in the classroom lately has just been too good for them to stay grumpy. And the final straw came yesterday, when Mr. King of the Grumpy Pants managed to embarrass even himself. Just as silence settled over the classroom, as the other students saw I was preparing to start reading, he somehow managed to shout "개새끼!" at his friend. The entire class took a deep breath in and the burst out laughing, as they saw my face and suddenly knew that I understood.
He turned toward me, wide-eyed.
"Was that like... just in general? Or what?"
He turned to his friend for translation. "몰라...."
"네?"
"Who was that for?"
Back to his friend. "누구! 누구!"
"아! 이...." Pointing at another student.
"Well, okay then. Glad we sorted that out. Can I read now?"
"네."
"Okay good. Here we go...."
Today Mr. Grumpy was a lot more cooperative, and, instead of gazing out of the window or drooling on himself, throwing bits of eraser or smacking his friend in the back of the head with his folder, he instead made a game out of calling me over as often as possible, away from the other students, to ask questions.
"TEACHA!"
"One minute."
"TEACHA!"
"One minute."
"TEACHA!"
"Oh my god..."
Everyone laughs.
He's a star in the show, now. That seems to have made him happy enough. So we're right on track. The other problem student is just a bit of a weirdo, but today he was petting my arm and playing with my bracelet while I was helping Mr. Grumpy Pants, so I guess we've made friends now too.
Looking forward to busting their little asses with the new chapter books I've procured. You wanna complain the material is too easy, eh? Okay then. Here we go.
Well, you would be wrong.
I spent the majority of my time today making the third graders dance for candy. Why? Because all my classes got canceled and I was bored and because I could. They bum-rushed the EOZ at lunchtime, and by the time I made it up there, there were approximately sixty clambering boys, climbing over each other and shouting, "TEACHA! TRICK OR TREAT! CHUPA CHUP! I LOVE YOU!"
"WHOA! Wait a minute... where's my present?"
They consulted amongst themselves for a moment and then, in a beautifully synchronized show, all put their hands to their chests and declared, "Teacha present my heart!"
"Oh. No thank you. HEY MAKE A LINE! Animals...."
Of course, I noticed about five minutes in that there was some sort of looping effect going on with the line. Today was the day they learned for a fact that their weoneomin can tell them apart. And they now think "go away" means something equivalent to, "I already gave you candy," a la: "Happy Halloween. Happy Halloween. You -- go away. Happy Halloween. You -- go away."
They started policing each other, in case one slipped past my excellent memory: "NOOOO! TEACHA HE GO AWAY!"
I got the Sorry Sorry dance, the Abracadabera dance, the Nobody Nobody But You dance and the Again and Again dance. And a few rather creative free-style numbers. A few tried their hand at sekshi dacing, American style. In those cases, I told them I would give them candy to stop and promise never to do that again, especially in front of a girl.
And, of course, there was:
In other news, it turns out my after school classes are going to continue even though I was told I had the choice to stop them before I went home for vacation, and said I would prefer to (at that time planning to continue on with Korean classes). I don't really mind, because I was feeling rather disappointed that they were ending anyway. Other than the fact that I feel like I was pretty well ignored. But I guess I won't make an issue out of it. Chances were, it was probably just a misunderstanding anyway.
The poor boys, however, were under the impression (because I was under the same impression) that they wouldn't have a seven period anymore. I had to break the news to them yesterday. One mouthy (but overall decent) student was kicking up a particularly loud stink about the whole thing, while I was explaining that I'm just the weoneomin -- not the principal: I just obey, and if they have a problem with it, they have to take it to the Korean teachers. "TEACHA WHY! WHYYYYYYYYYYYY!" This continued on until I finally feigned anger and stopped talking.
The class settled into a deadly silence.
"Listen... here's the real reason we have more seven classes.... okay? Ready?"
"Ready..."
"It's because I love you so much that I can't let you go."
"TEACHA!!! OOOH!"
"No really! I love you so much that I want to teach you everyday for the rest of my life! I love making millions of copies of all these books for you! Everyday, it's my dream to hear you complain about the worksheets! My life is nothing without this!"
"TEACHAAAAA!"
"What? You don't believe that?"
"NO!"
"Then be quiet. It's not my choice either. We have to endure."
I'm finally winning those last two little pains in the ass over, as well. The 기분 in the classroom lately has just been too good for them to stay grumpy. And the final straw came yesterday, when Mr. King of the Grumpy Pants managed to embarrass even himself. Just as silence settled over the classroom, as the other students saw I was preparing to start reading, he somehow managed to shout "개새끼!" at his friend. The entire class took a deep breath in and the burst out laughing, as they saw my face and suddenly knew that I understood.
He turned toward me, wide-eyed.
"Was that like... just in general? Or what?"
He turned to his friend for translation. "몰라...."
"네?"
"Who was that for?"
Back to his friend. "누구! 누구!"
"아! 이...." Pointing at another student.
"Well, okay then. Glad we sorted that out. Can I read now?"
"네."
"Okay good. Here we go...."
Today Mr. Grumpy was a lot more cooperative, and, instead of gazing out of the window or drooling on himself, throwing bits of eraser or smacking his friend in the back of the head with his folder, he instead made a game out of calling me over as often as possible, away from the other students, to ask questions.
"TEACHA!"
"One minute."
"TEACHA!"
"One minute."
"TEACHA!"
"Oh my god..."
Everyone laughs.
He's a star in the show, now. That seems to have made him happy enough. So we're right on track. The other problem student is just a bit of a weirdo, but today he was petting my arm and playing with my bracelet while I was helping Mr. Grumpy Pants, so I guess we've made friends now too.
Looking forward to busting their little asses with the new chapter books I've procured. You wanna complain the material is too easy, eh? Okay then. Here we go.
10.29.2009
Lover, you should have come over.
This song brings back so many memories, it's not even funny. In fact, this whole album does. Mostly of my first winter in New York, my first trips home after I had left, working on that godforsaken novel for the ridiculously attempted one semester novel writing class (I didn't even do fiction, to begin with), and everything that was wrapped up in that time.
I've been talking to a young Korean (who is currently studying in Canada) a lot lately. Mostly, he's been wanting advice surrounding his first attempts, after living in Canada for several years, at dating Western women. It's interesting discussing the differences, and trying to make him understand the ways in which he has to be more patient with "foreign" women. It's also interesting that our relationship is, due to distance, mostly anonymous, and therefore we talk quite freely. It's kind of a great situation, because we're both experiencing being a "foreigner" in each other's cultures, and we can compare and contrast, both having a reasonable working knowledge of both, while also filling the other in on what they may not already know or understand.
The other night, he got his heart stomped on and asked me to phone him to talk while he was falling asleep. He makes me feel really old, mostly because I remember being that age and feeling like absolutely everything in love was the end of the world. I found myself explaining to him that he will mellow with time, and in a few years, he will find himself to be a lot calmer.
He said, "You mean I will become less passionate?"
"No. That's not what I mean. I mean you will become less panicked. You will know, when you have these feelings, 'Okay. I survived this before. I can survive this again.' Whereas now, all you can think is, 'I really think I'm actually going to die.' In time, you will find out that getting your heart broken is not the end of the world."
And you will learn your own patterns, learn how to recognize and follow them. Hopefully learn how to change them, if need be.
Even now, he's just sent me this song:
And I'm trying to explain, when I was younger, that's how it was. You fall in love with someone when you know it can't work out. You fall in love with someone you know is damaged, and who will damage you. But these days, I don't even turn my head for that anymore. These days, I don't mind rational. I want someone who I'm good for, and who is good for me. Someone it has a chance of working with. Balanced, relaxed and healthy.
God knows I've not had loads of experience. It seems like almost everyone in this world 'falls in love' at the drop of a hat. But that's not how I work. I'd be quite unhappy if it was. But I think the experiences I have had have been that much more valid because of this. It doesn't happen often, but when it does....
I don't know what I'm getting at with all of this. This time of year just makes me so damn nostalgic. And every single time I've loved someone, it has started in the fall. Both my moves to New York and to Korea happened in the fall. It's a strongly accented season, for me.
I wish Mike were here right now. It would be a good weekend for mostly lying low, grabbing a cup of coffee and mulling over a lot of nothing. I want familiar things at this time of year. But. I'll see the lovely Kelly and Willie on Saturday night, and be around other foreigners, which should help a little.
In other news, 형 came to see me in the EOZ today. The kid barely moves out of his chair, ordinarily. Well. The kid hardly moves ordinarily. I'll take it as a good sign.
10.28.2009
I'm cold and 형.
Oh my God I'm so cold.
It's always like this. Although I've lived in a climate that has actual winters for seven years now, the first couple of months of the weather changing are still almost unbearable for me. I'm freezing everywhere I go, no matter what I wear, at all hours of the day. Making myself get out from under the blankets in the morning is a Herculean task, as is making myself stay out from under the blankets once I get home in the evening. And it doesn't really help that I'm almost 40 kilos lighter than I was this time last year.
According to weather.com, it's only 64 degrees. But I am fucking dying. The only time I'm not cold is when I'm teaching.
It's making life particularly difficult at the moment, because I absolutely have to get down to Homeplus and do some proper shopping. Muuuh. Is it too early to start wearing gloves?
Ah. The boys have been so great this week. I finally finished my after school classes today, and I'm reconsidering the decision not to do another session, just because working with them has been really great this time around. Seeing the same boys everyday is just plain nice -- I know all their names, and (I know this is ultimately not a good thing, but) they just communicate with me freely in both Korean and English now. They love that when it comes time to demonstrate a dialogue or activity in our regular English classes, I call out their names and ask them for their answers in front of everyone.
I also got to star in two more movies today. They haven't gotten around to trying to make me speak Korean on film yet, thank God. I love watching them be creative -- I can't remember me or anyone I knew being that smart at that age.
On the flip side of things, after lunch today class 313 had pulled up a 소녀시대 video on the big screen in the classroom and were freeze framing it at the exact moment 태연 thrust out her chest over and over again. They can't be geniuses all the time.
I've gotten into a habit of harassing one of Coteacher's students -- we'll call him 형, because that's what all the other boys call him, given that he's two years older. He's fucking massive and scary looking, if I do say so myself. He's the student who has somehow managed to give himself a tattoo. His background is shitty, to say the least -- earlier in the year his father came into the teachers' office drop-dead drunk and reeking of 소주, toting a huge tree branch he meant to beat 형 with. 형 is coming to school these days in body only -- he sits at his desk and sleeps and snarls and swings on any student who approaches. He makes the other boys extremely nervous.
So, of course, I have to stir the pot. I've given him the nickname Sunshine, much to the amusement of the other boys, who gather around in a clan everyday when I come in to wake him up. "Wake up Sunshine!"
He's the only student I speak Korean to openly and regularly. Coteacher calls him into the office sometimes to have little co-meetings with me, because she believes he'll be able to connect to me more easily than anyone else at the school. She's told him a bit about my own background (what little she knows) and always makes me show him my Korean study books -- "See? The weoneomin started from 'ahnyeonghaseyo' and look what she can do now! Everyday she faces more challenges than you. She is here without a family, but she is strong and she endures."
He mostly didn't respond to me at all, for a long time, until one day I followed Coteacher in when she was trying to wake him up to eat. He swatted her hand away, and some sort of ghetto protective instinct in me took over. I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him up. "Hey! You listen to your teacher when she's talking to you! You are still a student...." Since then, he sits up when he hears my English and feels my hand on the back of his neck. He mutters his Korean so I can almost never understand him, but he always speaks in the honorific conjugation, which is too out-of-place to not find funny.
God. I wish I spoke more Korean. Everybody in that school building is afraid of this kid. But I know he's just a kid, and he's being a baby at that. Coteacher translates for me sometimes, and he knows that my opinion is that life is hard, and not fair, but you have two choices -- you can succeed or you can fail. Nobody is going to do this kid any favors by coddling him -- it's gone too far for that. His situation is too hard. He's going to have to man up if he wants to make something of himself. It's not right that he has to be a man at his age, but that's the way things are. He should have a mother at home to push him out of bed in the morning, to nag him into doing his homework. But he doesn't. So he's going to have to be responsible for himself.
I told him before, through Coteacher, you think these teachers are always nagging you, but what do they care anyway? It's not their life -- it's your life. When you push against them, you push against yourself. When you think you're punishing them, you're really only punishing yourself.
Poor 형.
It's always like this. Although I've lived in a climate that has actual winters for seven years now, the first couple of months of the weather changing are still almost unbearable for me. I'm freezing everywhere I go, no matter what I wear, at all hours of the day. Making myself get out from under the blankets in the morning is a Herculean task, as is making myself stay out from under the blankets once I get home in the evening. And it doesn't really help that I'm almost 40 kilos lighter than I was this time last year.
According to weather.com, it's only 64 degrees. But I am fucking dying. The only time I'm not cold is when I'm teaching.
It's making life particularly difficult at the moment, because I absolutely have to get down to Homeplus and do some proper shopping. Muuuh. Is it too early to start wearing gloves?
Ah. The boys have been so great this week. I finally finished my after school classes today, and I'm reconsidering the decision not to do another session, just because working with them has been really great this time around. Seeing the same boys everyday is just plain nice -- I know all their names, and (I know this is ultimately not a good thing, but) they just communicate with me freely in both Korean and English now. They love that when it comes time to demonstrate a dialogue or activity in our regular English classes, I call out their names and ask them for their answers in front of everyone.
I also got to star in two more movies today. They haven't gotten around to trying to make me speak Korean on film yet, thank God. I love watching them be creative -- I can't remember me or anyone I knew being that smart at that age.
On the flip side of things, after lunch today class 313 had pulled up a 소녀시대 video on the big screen in the classroom and were freeze framing it at the exact moment 태연 thrust out her chest over and over again. They can't be geniuses all the time.
I've gotten into a habit of harassing one of Coteacher's students -- we'll call him 형, because that's what all the other boys call him, given that he's two years older. He's fucking massive and scary looking, if I do say so myself. He's the student who has somehow managed to give himself a tattoo. His background is shitty, to say the least -- earlier in the year his father came into the teachers' office drop-dead drunk and reeking of 소주, toting a huge tree branch he meant to beat 형 with. 형 is coming to school these days in body only -- he sits at his desk and sleeps and snarls and swings on any student who approaches. He makes the other boys extremely nervous.
So, of course, I have to stir the pot. I've given him the nickname Sunshine, much to the amusement of the other boys, who gather around in a clan everyday when I come in to wake him up. "Wake up Sunshine!"
He's the only student I speak Korean to openly and regularly. Coteacher calls him into the office sometimes to have little co-meetings with me, because she believes he'll be able to connect to me more easily than anyone else at the school. She's told him a bit about my own background (what little she knows) and always makes me show him my Korean study books -- "See? The weoneomin started from 'ahnyeonghaseyo' and look what she can do now! Everyday she faces more challenges than you. She is here without a family, but she is strong and she endures."
He mostly didn't respond to me at all, for a long time, until one day I followed Coteacher in when she was trying to wake him up to eat. He swatted her hand away, and some sort of ghetto protective instinct in me took over. I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him up. "Hey! You listen to your teacher when she's talking to you! You are still a student...." Since then, he sits up when he hears my English and feels my hand on the back of his neck. He mutters his Korean so I can almost never understand him, but he always speaks in the honorific conjugation, which is too out-of-place to not find funny.
God. I wish I spoke more Korean. Everybody in that school building is afraid of this kid. But I know he's just a kid, and he's being a baby at that. Coteacher translates for me sometimes, and he knows that my opinion is that life is hard, and not fair, but you have two choices -- you can succeed or you can fail. Nobody is going to do this kid any favors by coddling him -- it's gone too far for that. His situation is too hard. He's going to have to man up if he wants to make something of himself. It's not right that he has to be a man at his age, but that's the way things are. He should have a mother at home to push him out of bed in the morning, to nag him into doing his homework. But he doesn't. So he's going to have to be responsible for himself.
I told him before, through Coteacher, you think these teachers are always nagging you, but what do they care anyway? It's not their life -- it's your life. When you push against them, you push against yourself. When you think you're punishing them, you're really only punishing yourself.
Poor 형.
10.26.2009
Candy makes you popular.
It's Halloween week and they may as well have made an announcement over the PA that the 원어민 has candy coming out of her ears. I'm making the first graders wait until we have our Halloween classes together, but I was like goddamn Santa Clause with the third graders, who won't have class with me at all. Who am I kidding, anyway? If I could bring those boys ice cream everyday, I would. I even stopped and picked up two more bags on my way home, so I wouldn't have to be stingy.
This entire ordeal extended all the way into my apartuh. Some first graders were circling on their bikes when I came walking up from work, so I stopped to ask them if they knew what Saturday was, and open the bag of candy I'd just bought at the store. What happened then? Little vultures from another middle school with very, very similar uniforms came running over, shouting, "TEACHER! TEACHER!" Like I don't know my own boys. Bugger off.
Actually, you know I gave them candy too. I'm a fucking sucker. What do you want?
I hope nobody's 엄마 calls the police and reports a foreigner handing out candy to random kids, though.
I also did something bad today. I was of two minds about doing it, but I decided it was better to know. The students in my after school class had to fill out an evaluation form today. With a little help from google translate, I read the damn things. The marks were mostly neutral to good for the actual class, almost all negative about the class time, and in the places where they could write the good and bad comments, the bad comments were all about how easy the books were (oddly enough, that was all coming from the second graders, who have struggled to keep up in class all along, whereas the first graders who have made short work of just about everything, simply wrote "없다"). And in the "write one good thing about the class" space?
"Meeting with the native teacher."
"Having conversation with the foreign teacher."
"The native teacher should teach again."
and even
"Only the native teacher."
After bracing myself for not very nice things, that was nothing but a huge relief. There are two second graders who marked everything the lowest possible and wrote "없다" under the good comment sections -- that was the worst of it, and I can guess exactly who those two were.
I've got a wicked cold setting in today, which I think was making the other teachers nervous at work. I let them take my temperature just to ease their anxiety. I was a nice, safe 36.8. It's just the weather changing -- I'm not infected.
It's getting dark too early now. It makes me want to cook big meals at home. I think it's time, now that I'm not going to class anymore, to bust out the Korean cookbook again, and see if I can master something other than 된장 찌개 and 김밥. The trouble is, there's no Mike around to force-feed it to after it's cooked.
Today The Baby made the first contact after what went down Saturday night. I couldn't make myself answer. But. What is it? Just. Young. You just can't help but think, he's so fucking young. It's like holding a puppy accountable. All cultural implications of that particular word choice noted and accepted. I dunno. I'm not ready to cave yet. Don't know if I will get to that point. Don't know if I want to, or if I care. I don't feel as cold as I normally do. Hell. You don't even know what I'm talking about.
Here. Have a music video to make up for it.
Now excuse me while I finish the last few episodes of 소울메이트. 민애 is my hero. If I could make a specialized request for a Korean best friend, it would be her.
This entire ordeal extended all the way into my apartuh. Some first graders were circling on their bikes when I came walking up from work, so I stopped to ask them if they knew what Saturday was, and open the bag of candy I'd just bought at the store. What happened then? Little vultures from another middle school with very, very similar uniforms came running over, shouting, "TEACHER! TEACHER!" Like I don't know my own boys. Bugger off.
Actually, you know I gave them candy too. I'm a fucking sucker. What do you want?
I hope nobody's 엄마 calls the police and reports a foreigner handing out candy to random kids, though.
I also did something bad today. I was of two minds about doing it, but I decided it was better to know. The students in my after school class had to fill out an evaluation form today. With a little help from google translate, I read the damn things. The marks were mostly neutral to good for the actual class, almost all negative about the class time, and in the places where they could write the good and bad comments, the bad comments were all about how easy the books were (oddly enough, that was all coming from the second graders, who have struggled to keep up in class all along, whereas the first graders who have made short work of just about everything, simply wrote "없다"). And in the "write one good thing about the class" space?
"Meeting with the native teacher."
"Having conversation with the foreign teacher."
"The native teacher should teach again."
and even
"Only the native teacher."
After bracing myself for not very nice things, that was nothing but a huge relief. There are two second graders who marked everything the lowest possible and wrote "없다" under the good comment sections -- that was the worst of it, and I can guess exactly who those two were.
I've got a wicked cold setting in today, which I think was making the other teachers nervous at work. I let them take my temperature just to ease their anxiety. I was a nice, safe 36.8. It's just the weather changing -- I'm not infected.
It's getting dark too early now. It makes me want to cook big meals at home. I think it's time, now that I'm not going to class anymore, to bust out the Korean cookbook again, and see if I can master something other than 된장 찌개 and 김밥. The trouble is, there's no Mike around to force-feed it to after it's cooked.
Today The Baby made the first contact after what went down Saturday night. I couldn't make myself answer. But. What is it? Just. Young. You just can't help but think, he's so fucking young. It's like holding a puppy accountable. All cultural implications of that particular word choice noted and accepted. I dunno. I'm not ready to cave yet. Don't know if I will get to that point. Don't know if I want to, or if I care. I don't feel as cold as I normally do. Hell. You don't even know what I'm talking about.
Here. Have a music video to make up for it.
Now excuse me while I finish the last few episodes of 소울메이트. 민애 is my hero. If I could make a specialized request for a Korean best friend, it would be her.
10.25.2009
Just woke up.
Last night, my heart changed. Or actually, maybe it was after I woke up today.
Something happened last night -- something stupid and, ultimately, inconsequential. But, to me at least, it was symbolic. One small thing, combined with far too much alcohol, sent my heart on a tip. And when I grabbed my bag and just walked out of that club at 3 am this morning, without saying a word, I walked out on a lot more than that.
My last year in New York was traumatic, to say the least. A lot of shit went down. And, I mean, a lot of shit went down. Then I went home to Texas and it was like the second wall of shit I left behind decided to cave in on top of me as well. By the time I was ready to leave for Korea, I was ready to leave a lot more than New York and my hometown behind. I had made up my mind that life just wouldn't be like that anymore. I'd keep my mouth shut about the past, not over-think things. Live simply. And, for God's sake, be happy.
Of course, I didn't imagine Korea would be a paradise devoid of difficulty. I knew there would be a whole lifetime of challenges to face. But there's a difference between the challenges you face when undertaking a new situation, and the ones that just seem to follow you and cling on from behind.
The trouble, my friends, is that new challenges eventually become old challenges.
In an email to a dear friend today, recapping the situation, I mentioned having a feeling akin to Sisyphus. You know the guy -- the pushing the rock up the mountain guy. The guy condemned to a fate of an eternity of completing the same meaningless task over and over and over, only to watch the result all of the hard work he has just completed crumble before his eyes, only to have to turn around and complete the same arduous task again, all the while knowing that effort is futile.
Dramatic much? Stay with me, guys. I am getting to a point.
I spent the day with another dear friend who helped me to put things into perspective, and who also reminded me that I'm not alone here, and that everything I try to do is not in vain -- after all, I did meet him. And he's an A+, gold star kind of guy -- the kind who gets a teen angst text message from you at 3 am, and instead of deleting you from his phone book, comes over the next day to cook a late breakfast and talk some sense into you. After that, I got thinking more about this Sisyphus thing. And I remembered that Albert Camus wrote an essay about Sisyphus, which I had never read:
At the very end of his long effort measured by skyless space and time without depth, the purpose is achieved. Then Sisyphus watches the stone rush down in a few moments toward that lower world whence he will have to push it up again toward the summit. He goes back down to the plain. It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me. A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself! I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.
If you studied anything like what I studied at university, you've seen this argument made a thousand times by a thousand different philosophers and scholars, from a thousand different perspectives, all coming to basically one of only two conclusions:
1. Life, and all of its struggles are futile. There is no god, no higher purpose and no meaning. We're fucked.
or
2. Life, and all of its struggles are futile. There is no god, no higher purpose and no meaning. Except for that which we make for ourselves, in our everyday undertaking of the futile. In our acknowledgment of the futile. In our defeat of our fear of the futile. Or in the small moments that happen in between, in which we find some small escape from the futile.
It's enough. Because it has to be enough. And it's okay, because it has to be okay.
And one friend made out of a thousand attempts is valuable enough to make it worth it. My handful of people scattered all over the globe, gained from ten years of existing and interacting and three continents of traveling, are valuable enough to make it worth it.
What it all comes down to, really, is this:
The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
So, that's it. The struggle has arrived in Korea. But that small, stupid thing that happened last night was probably the best thing yet. I've given up on trying to get out from under the weight of things for now. Life isn't simple. And we all know what they say -- wherever you go, there you are. I'm re-focused now. I feel like I just woke up.
Something happened last night -- something stupid and, ultimately, inconsequential. But, to me at least, it was symbolic. One small thing, combined with far too much alcohol, sent my heart on a tip. And when I grabbed my bag and just walked out of that club at 3 am this morning, without saying a word, I walked out on a lot more than that.
My last year in New York was traumatic, to say the least. A lot of shit went down. And, I mean, a lot of shit went down. Then I went home to Texas and it was like the second wall of shit I left behind decided to cave in on top of me as well. By the time I was ready to leave for Korea, I was ready to leave a lot more than New York and my hometown behind. I had made up my mind that life just wouldn't be like that anymore. I'd keep my mouth shut about the past, not over-think things. Live simply. And, for God's sake, be happy.
Of course, I didn't imagine Korea would be a paradise devoid of difficulty. I knew there would be a whole lifetime of challenges to face. But there's a difference between the challenges you face when undertaking a new situation, and the ones that just seem to follow you and cling on from behind.
The trouble, my friends, is that new challenges eventually become old challenges.
In an email to a dear friend today, recapping the situation, I mentioned having a feeling akin to Sisyphus. You know the guy -- the pushing the rock up the mountain guy. The guy condemned to a fate of an eternity of completing the same meaningless task over and over and over, only to watch the result all of the hard work he has just completed crumble before his eyes, only to have to turn around and complete the same arduous task again, all the while knowing that effort is futile.
Dramatic much? Stay with me, guys. I am getting to a point.
I spent the day with another dear friend who helped me to put things into perspective, and who also reminded me that I'm not alone here, and that everything I try to do is not in vain -- after all, I did meet him. And he's an A+, gold star kind of guy -- the kind who gets a teen angst text message from you at 3 am, and instead of deleting you from his phone book, comes over the next day to cook a late breakfast and talk some sense into you. After that, I got thinking more about this Sisyphus thing. And I remembered that Albert Camus wrote an essay about Sisyphus, which I had never read:
At the very end of his long effort measured by skyless space and time without depth, the purpose is achieved. Then Sisyphus watches the stone rush down in a few moments toward that lower world whence he will have to push it up again toward the summit. He goes back down to the plain. It is during that return, that pause, that Sisyphus interests me. A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself! I see that man going back down with a heavy yet measured step toward the torment of which he will never know the end. That hour like a breathing-space which returns as surely as his suffering, that is the hour of consciousness. At each of those moments when he leaves the heights and gradually sinks toward the lairs of the gods, he is superior to his fate. He is stronger than his rock.
If you studied anything like what I studied at university, you've seen this argument made a thousand times by a thousand different philosophers and scholars, from a thousand different perspectives, all coming to basically one of only two conclusions:
1. Life, and all of its struggles are futile. There is no god, no higher purpose and no meaning. We're fucked.
or
2. Life, and all of its struggles are futile. There is no god, no higher purpose and no meaning. Except for that which we make for ourselves, in our everyday undertaking of the futile. In our acknowledgment of the futile. In our defeat of our fear of the futile. Or in the small moments that happen in between, in which we find some small escape from the futile.
It's enough. Because it has to be enough. And it's okay, because it has to be okay.
And one friend made out of a thousand attempts is valuable enough to make it worth it. My handful of people scattered all over the globe, gained from ten years of existing and interacting and three continents of traveling, are valuable enough to make it worth it.
What it all comes down to, really, is this:
The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
So, that's it. The struggle has arrived in Korea. But that small, stupid thing that happened last night was probably the best thing yet. I've given up on trying to get out from under the weight of things for now. Life isn't simple. And we all know what they say -- wherever you go, there you are. I'm re-focused now. I feel like I just woke up.
10.24.2009
Bat Signal.
Who's smooth? I'm smooth.
So, Smalltown's on my big d-bag list for canceling out on the party tonight because his new "girlfriend" wants to see him instead. People who get S.O.'s and then go A.W.O.L. are so... ugh. So where does that leave me? Going to this damn mess of a shenanigan of a party alone, with a ban on inviting anyone who is either male or Korean or both or either (???).
So I sent up the waegookin bat signal. Willie called to bail me out. The problem: does Willie count as a guy? Does Willie count as Korean? ....What? I'm still not clear on the rules, here....
Solution? Fuck it. Willie will be on textual standby, and I'm just going to "run into" him at whatever bar/club we end up at.
Problem solved. And honestly, I can't think of anyone better to watch this train wreck with than Willie. Plus, the lovely Kel (depending on how well she's feeling later on) might be in Hongdae tonight too. If things get really out of hand and we need to bail.
Cool. I'm almost ready to face this now....
And you know. If any of you lovely readers out there are in Hongdae tonight and happen to spot me looking miserable/scared and alone, feel free to run over like you're my best friend in the world and you just had something awful happen that demands my immediate attention outside right away. Or whatever.
God.
So, Smalltown's on my big d-bag list for canceling out on the party tonight because his new "girlfriend" wants to see him instead. People who get S.O.'s and then go A.W.O.L. are so... ugh. So where does that leave me? Going to this damn mess of a shenanigan of a party alone, with a ban on inviting anyone who is either male or Korean or both or either (???).
So I sent up the waegookin bat signal. Willie called to bail me out. The problem: does Willie count as a guy? Does Willie count as Korean? ....What? I'm still not clear on the rules, here....
Solution? Fuck it. Willie will be on textual standby, and I'm just going to "run into" him at whatever bar/club we end up at.
Problem solved. And honestly, I can't think of anyone better to watch this train wreck with than Willie. Plus, the lovely Kel (depending on how well she's feeling later on) might be in Hongdae tonight too. If things get really out of hand and we need to bail.
Cool. I'm almost ready to face this now....
And you know. If any of you lovely readers out there are in Hongdae tonight and happen to spot me looking miserable/scared and alone, feel free to run over like you're my best friend in the world and you just had something awful happen that demands my immediate attention outside right away. Or whatever.
God.
머리 아퍼.
Work was good today, despite the fact that I had a completely bizarre headache (I think) stemming from sleeping weird, combined with stress, which has thrown my neck and shoulders all out of line. I can't turn my head a certain way without pain pounding up through my skull. Lovely.
I've heard other foreign teachers comment before on the bizarreness of Korean students' noonchi, and I've definitely noticed the same thing with my third graders. If I'm even a little bit off, because of homesickness or just not feeling well or whatever, they always notice it right away. One student who I've never even really spoken to came into the office with Tylenol after apparently seeing me rubbing my head at my desk, and a few more, led by my "boyfriend", spent the lunch period chasing other boys off from the EOZ, shouting, "야! 조용히! 원어민 선생님이 아프다! 나가!"
Nonetheless, I made it through all five classes. Fridays are C level first graders, who, despite being ridiculously adorable, can be handful, to say the least. For some reason, they were really well behaved today and paying a suspicious amount of attention. I think it's because they haven't had my class for three weeks. We'll be back to our usual nonsense next Friday, I'm sure.
After work, I just came home and fell asleep. The headache is the kind that just makes you nauseous. Now I'm nervous about the day ahead, as it's 4:37 am and I'm awake, and the headache has only dulled off slightly.
I have a lot of things I have to take care of today. And I have to go clubbing in Hongdae tonight. Great.
The boyfriend crew asked what I was doing on Saturday, and I told them honestly. It's my friend's birthday and we're going to Hongdae. First question: Friend is Korean? Second question: Teacher go Hongdae clubs? Well, hell. If they can tell me honestly that they meet their girlfriends behind GS25 to smoke cigarettes (the girls too!), I can tell them honestly I'm going to clubs. I told them I hate clubs and I didn't want to go.
Teacher why? Hongdae club very good!
How would you know, exactly? And no, not very good for the most part. For the most part, Teacher is too old.
Teacher young! Teacher 25!
25 is too old for clubs, boys. University is club time. Not after.
No! Club for up to 29! Teacher still have long time.
I might try to grab a couple more hours of sleep and see if I can't salvage the day somehow. I wish I could keep that Tylenol student in my pocket for days like these. I could use a little helper at the moment....
I've heard other foreign teachers comment before on the bizarreness of Korean students' noonchi, and I've definitely noticed the same thing with my third graders. If I'm even a little bit off, because of homesickness or just not feeling well or whatever, they always notice it right away. One student who I've never even really spoken to came into the office with Tylenol after apparently seeing me rubbing my head at my desk, and a few more, led by my "boyfriend", spent the lunch period chasing other boys off from the EOZ, shouting, "야! 조용히! 원어민 선생님이 아프다! 나가!"
Nonetheless, I made it through all five classes. Fridays are C level first graders, who, despite being ridiculously adorable, can be handful, to say the least. For some reason, they were really well behaved today and paying a suspicious amount of attention. I think it's because they haven't had my class for three weeks. We'll be back to our usual nonsense next Friday, I'm sure.
After work, I just came home and fell asleep. The headache is the kind that just makes you nauseous. Now I'm nervous about the day ahead, as it's 4:37 am and I'm awake, and the headache has only dulled off slightly.
I have a lot of things I have to take care of today. And I have to go clubbing in Hongdae tonight. Great.
The boyfriend crew asked what I was doing on Saturday, and I told them honestly. It's my friend's birthday and we're going to Hongdae. First question: Friend is Korean? Second question: Teacher go Hongdae clubs? Well, hell. If they can tell me honestly that they meet their girlfriends behind GS25 to smoke cigarettes (the girls too!), I can tell them honestly I'm going to clubs. I told them I hate clubs and I didn't want to go.
Teacher why? Hongdae club very good!
How would you know, exactly? And no, not very good for the most part. For the most part, Teacher is too old.
Teacher young! Teacher 25!
25 is too old for clubs, boys. University is club time. Not after.
No! Club for up to 29! Teacher still have long time.
I might try to grab a couple more hours of sleep and see if I can't salvage the day somehow. I wish I could keep that Tylenol student in my pocket for days like these. I could use a little helper at the moment....
10.22.2009
Exhausted.
Okay. I'm probably too tired to be blogging. But whatever.
First and foremost --
Today was the school festival and I swear to God I almost cried. Why? Because probably my top ten favorite students have been working their asses off for the entire year to prepare performances for this and today I got to watch them and all I could think was, in a few months they are going to leave my life forever. And there's nothing I can do about it, because otherwise, that's creepy.
In this blog, I make a lot of references to the really outgoing students at my school -- the ones who aren't shy about approaching and saying/doing really hilarious things. But the ones I have never, ever mentioned are the ones that are dearest to my heart. They're the boys that no girl will notice until they are well into their 20's, and they'll spend all of high school thinking they're just not worth much. But I'm 25, Korean age, and very well-versed in the world of the masculine, and I know better.
They are going to be the most amazing men. I almost wish I could pre-order one like them and have him super-speed-of-light developed. They're talented and intelligent and witty and insightful and, above all else, they are gentle and kind.
Okay. So I'm a little alcohol-fueled at the moment. After work, I rushed over to meet C and a Korean-American guy he met in a way that I don't care to mention publicly. We had a great night eating and drinking and talking, and it was nice to meet a new, down-to-earth foreigner. We went to the local, where I got to see The Bar Tender for a bit. Then we happened to meet -- get this -- three guys from Mexico who are half Korean. That was definitely a first. The main guy of the group, though (the big talker), was not really my type and, unfortunately, he completely dominated the conversation so that the other two didn't have a chance to talk at all. Really interesting story though.
Okay. So The Baby. Whatever. I'm trying to chill out about the whole thing. But basically, what happened was, I thought it might be nice for The Baby to have a hyeong that wasn't a complete asshole (like the 29 year old womanizer), so I wanted to find out if it was alright to bring C on Saturday. Obviously, I know it's his birthday and he's already pretty sensitive, so I wasn't going to just show up with C. First I called Smalltown to run the whole idea past him and see how he thought The Baby would react. Smalltown told me he had already asked if it was okay if he brought the girl he's seeing, and The Baby had responded basically, the more the merrier. Cool, I thought, then no problem.
But just to make sure, I texted, and was certain to clarify that it was okay if he didn't want C to come. The whole thing started out on a bad note because he misunderstood my English and thought I was saying I would meet another friend instead of coming to his birthday party. Then I texted back in Korean to clarify, and he responded with the same kind of the-more-the-merrier response.
Then suddenly he texted back to ask how many I was bringing. Just one, I said, and maybe he won't come. I should probably mention that the pronouns "he" and "him" hadn't been mentioned up to this point.
The next text? "Korean or not?"
Uh. Excuse me?
Human being. That's what I'm wanting to bring. A human being. Is that okay or not?
"Korean."
"Really? Hm. Before day can I meet him?"
Uh. What?
"Before that day I must meet ur friend."
Answer? "Never mind. Don't worry about it. I won't bring him."
My irritation here is not with the fact that The Baby didn't want me to bring someone to his birthday party. That is completely understandable, and would've been fine from the beginning. My irritation is that a. everything was fine until I mentioned "he" and b. everything still would have been fine if I had responded "foreigner" instead of "Korean".
Smalltown gets to bring his girl, no questions asked. But mine deserves a pre-screening because he's male and Korean, despite the fact that I've made it quite clear to The Baby that I have no intentions of dating him ever, and that I hate, hate, hate people who harp on the foreigner thing.
After my last text, there was no response. And there's been no communication today at all. If I didnt' feel so damn guilty, I just wouldn't go at this point. But after running the whole thing past C, C generously reminded me that the kid is young and having a hard time in life at the moment, and perhaps I should cut him a break.
Well. I'll try.
At any rate, Saturday night should be interesting. I'm going to try not to be a bitch. But that doesn't always work out. But all I can think at this point is, right, if I wasn't a foreigner, I wouldn't be here either. And fuck you.
That's enough exhausted, mildly drunken blogging for now. The truth is, I had a lovely, lovely day with my boys. And I'm not going to let this bullshit get to me anymore. It's a part of life here, but it doesn't have to be a big one. I'm practically an expert at just cutting people out at this point. If The Baby can't get his act together, I'll just say goodbye. Simple enough. He's got one more chance, and that only really by the grace of C.
We shall see.
Goodnight.
First and foremost --
Today was the school festival and I swear to God I almost cried. Why? Because probably my top ten favorite students have been working their asses off for the entire year to prepare performances for this and today I got to watch them and all I could think was, in a few months they are going to leave my life forever. And there's nothing I can do about it, because otherwise, that's creepy.
In this blog, I make a lot of references to the really outgoing students at my school -- the ones who aren't shy about approaching and saying/doing really hilarious things. But the ones I have never, ever mentioned are the ones that are dearest to my heart. They're the boys that no girl will notice until they are well into their 20's, and they'll spend all of high school thinking they're just not worth much. But I'm 25, Korean age, and very well-versed in the world of the masculine, and I know better.
They are going to be the most amazing men. I almost wish I could pre-order one like them and have him super-speed-of-light developed. They're talented and intelligent and witty and insightful and, above all else, they are gentle and kind.
Okay. So I'm a little alcohol-fueled at the moment. After work, I rushed over to meet C and a Korean-American guy he met in a way that I don't care to mention publicly. We had a great night eating and drinking and talking, and it was nice to meet a new, down-to-earth foreigner. We went to the local, where I got to see The Bar Tender for a bit. Then we happened to meet -- get this -- three guys from Mexico who are half Korean. That was definitely a first. The main guy of the group, though (the big talker), was not really my type and, unfortunately, he completely dominated the conversation so that the other two didn't have a chance to talk at all. Really interesting story though.
Okay. So The Baby. Whatever. I'm trying to chill out about the whole thing. But basically, what happened was, I thought it might be nice for The Baby to have a hyeong that wasn't a complete asshole (like the 29 year old womanizer), so I wanted to find out if it was alright to bring C on Saturday. Obviously, I know it's his birthday and he's already pretty sensitive, so I wasn't going to just show up with C. First I called Smalltown to run the whole idea past him and see how he thought The Baby would react. Smalltown told me he had already asked if it was okay if he brought the girl he's seeing, and The Baby had responded basically, the more the merrier. Cool, I thought, then no problem.
But just to make sure, I texted, and was certain to clarify that it was okay if he didn't want C to come. The whole thing started out on a bad note because he misunderstood my English and thought I was saying I would meet another friend instead of coming to his birthday party. Then I texted back in Korean to clarify, and he responded with the same kind of the-more-the-merrier response.
Then suddenly he texted back to ask how many I was bringing. Just one, I said, and maybe he won't come. I should probably mention that the pronouns "he" and "him" hadn't been mentioned up to this point.
The next text? "Korean or not?"
Uh. Excuse me?
Human being. That's what I'm wanting to bring. A human being. Is that okay or not?
"Korean."
"Really? Hm. Before day can I meet him?"
Uh. What?
"Before that day I must meet ur friend."
Answer? "Never mind. Don't worry about it. I won't bring him."
My irritation here is not with the fact that The Baby didn't want me to bring someone to his birthday party. That is completely understandable, and would've been fine from the beginning. My irritation is that a. everything was fine until I mentioned "he" and b. everything still would have been fine if I had responded "foreigner" instead of "Korean".
Smalltown gets to bring his girl, no questions asked. But mine deserves a pre-screening because he's male and Korean, despite the fact that I've made it quite clear to The Baby that I have no intentions of dating him ever, and that I hate, hate, hate people who harp on the foreigner thing.
After my last text, there was no response. And there's been no communication today at all. If I didnt' feel so damn guilty, I just wouldn't go at this point. But after running the whole thing past C, C generously reminded me that the kid is young and having a hard time in life at the moment, and perhaps I should cut him a break.
Well. I'll try.
At any rate, Saturday night should be interesting. I'm going to try not to be a bitch. But that doesn't always work out. But all I can think at this point is, right, if I wasn't a foreigner, I wouldn't be here either. And fuck you.
That's enough exhausted, mildly drunken blogging for now. The truth is, I had a lovely, lovely day with my boys. And I'm not going to let this bullshit get to me anymore. It's a part of life here, but it doesn't have to be a big one. I'm practically an expert at just cutting people out at this point. If The Baby can't get his act together, I'll just say goodbye. Simple enough. He's got one more chance, and that only really by the grace of C.
We shall see.
Goodnight.
10.21.2009
Sports Day.
Ah, Sports Day.
Which meant I got to do nothing but hang out and flirt with my third graders all day. I miss the older boys so much, but the younger ones are so cute, it's hard to complain. I make a point of mostly only speaking a word or two of Korean here and there to the students, mostly just to make them laugh, but today when I was trying to explain something in conversation with the boys, who weren't understanding at all in English, I just broke down and said it in Korean. The response was total dismay. Remember -- these boys haven't had me for class since the end of July. The second and first graders are aware of my level in Korean, not because I ever speak it, but because they know how much I understand when they speak it. The third graders remember me as a virtual Korean deaf-mute.
They also hadn't seen my new tattoo yet. I'm not sure which they were more impressed with, to be honest.
Anyway, I got to hear all about who has a hundred girlfriends, who is 변태, and who is trashee. I also reiterated that Marlboro Lights are girl cigarettes. Then an entire drama played out surrounding the fact that one student was sad because his girlfriend broke up with him over lunch time via a text message, so I gave him my extra special teacher ice cream. Then he gave me the pull-off tab part of his ice cream and now we are couple.
I'm pretty sure almost all of this is inappropriate, but hell, I don't teach them anymore. We can let it slide.
Then everyone went to sleep.
I can't believe these boys are leaving in a few months and I won't see them anymore. My first group of students to move on to high school. That's going to be really heartbreaking. But I'll try not to think about that, for now.
Did I mention that the most common occurrence of the day was someone shouting, "벌이다!" and then proceeding to punch a bee? Because it was. And I almost pissed myself laughing every single time it happened.
Which meant I got to do nothing but hang out and flirt with my third graders all day. I miss the older boys so much, but the younger ones are so cute, it's hard to complain. I make a point of mostly only speaking a word or two of Korean here and there to the students, mostly just to make them laugh, but today when I was trying to explain something in conversation with the boys, who weren't understanding at all in English, I just broke down and said it in Korean. The response was total dismay. Remember -- these boys haven't had me for class since the end of July. The second and first graders are aware of my level in Korean, not because I ever speak it, but because they know how much I understand when they speak it. The third graders remember me as a virtual Korean deaf-mute.
They also hadn't seen my new tattoo yet. I'm not sure which they were more impressed with, to be honest.
Anyway, I got to hear all about who has a hundred girlfriends, who is 변태, and who is trashee. I also reiterated that Marlboro Lights are girl cigarettes. Then an entire drama played out surrounding the fact that one student was sad because his girlfriend broke up with him over lunch time via a text message, so I gave him my extra special teacher ice cream. Then he gave me the pull-off tab part of his ice cream and now we are couple.
I'm pretty sure almost all of this is inappropriate, but hell, I don't teach them anymore. We can let it slide.
Then everyone went to sleep.
I can't believe these boys are leaving in a few months and I won't see them anymore. My first group of students to move on to high school. That's going to be really heartbreaking. But I'll try not to think about that, for now.
Did I mention that the most common occurrence of the day was someone shouting, "벌이다!" and then proceeding to punch a bee? Because it was. And I almost pissed myself laughing every single time it happened.
10.20.2009
I'm not a quitter -- really.
This is really cool....
P.S. -- I'm somewhat dropping out of Korean class for the time being. There are three major reasons for this:
1. Work. I've always said my job is my first priority in Korea, and I mean that. Not rushing out of the office at soon as the clock turns over to 4:30, and not trying to jam Korean homework in between classes on my off periods has allowed me to slow down and put the time and effort I used to into my lessons. I miss feeling completely prepared and relaxed at work. And I haven't given the level differentiations as much attention as they deserve since we've made them. I need some time to adjust to the new work load and schedule, so that I can do my job in the most effective manner possible.
2. Now that I'm at the level I'm at, I want to try my hand at studying on my own, just to see how it is -- if it will be more or less productive than attending classes. Studying on my own means I can focus on what I feel is useful for me, and not just whatever the class is working on at any given moment. My class has also slimmed down significantly and... I don't mean to sound like an asshole, but I started out as the next-to-lowest level student and now I'm pretty much the highest. I have a hard time being patient when I understand what the teacher is saying the first time around, but I have to sit and listen to her explain it six more times so everyone else catches on.
Also, I was somewhat joking when I mentioned K dramas as "studying" before, but what I noticed when I was watching them over vacation (for the first time in ages, since I've hardly had the time lately), is that I really am understanding a significant amount. Enough for it to actually help, and to be able to hear individual words and phrases and understand them in context.
3. The holidays are coming up and it can be a lonely time in the ROK as a foreigner, if you aren't making the effort to stay connected to other foreigners who are going through the same thing. Lately, I haven't had the time or energy to socialize much outside of a very small group of Incheon people, because when the weekend rolls around, I literally cannot make myself go into Seoul, or out at all on a Friday night. And there isn't time to even think about socializing during the week.
The holidays coming on the tail of my first trip home has the potential to lead into a serious emotional meltdown if I allow myself to get too stressed, underslept and socially isolated. I'd prefer to get good sleep, eat a well-balanced diet (which is impossible on nights when I have Korean class), and spend time with those people I haven't had much of a chance to, because the live in other parts of Seoul and the satellite cities.
Not to mention, Smalltown is leaving very, very soon. And we've been talking about taking a trip to Busan before he goes. I won't have the energy to make that happen if I continue on the way I have been.
I feel nervous about making this decision, because I feel like I might lose everything I've learned up to this point, if I can't make the effort to be dedicated enough to studying on my own, or if I'm wrong about feeling like I can do so effectively at this point. I don't want to slow down in my progression. But I also feel frustrated that, although a lot of building blocks have been put into place, and my comprehension is way up, I still can't make much use of it in everyday life, because my time to study on my own, and therefore acquire the vocabulary I need in everyday conversation, is extremely limited. Because I'm busy all the time.
Now, I know how to make sentences. But when I go to do it, I can't produce the words necessary to fill in the blanks. What I really need is a seriously kickass textbook. Anyone reading who has any suggestions, please please do leave them. I still have my course textbook to finish up, but I'm definitely way past the beginner level book I was working out of originally.
Okay. Enough of that boring stuff.
Just got off the phone with Smalltown. Sometimes it really feels like it's me and him against the world. Hours and hours of conversation have gone into me and him recounting various social interactions and trying our best to work through the oddities and cultural differences, sort out what is individual personality and what is cultural traits that we can identify and try to make sense out of.
He's one of the only other foreigners I know who really puts in the effort to get to know Koreans. As much as, essentially, human beings are human beings, there really can be a hell of a lot of social blundering through that goes on when you're trying to bridge the gaps. The good comes when you meet Koreans who are also interested in sorting out the differences, and there have been a wealth of fascinating conversations and exchanges that have resulted from this. And it's in those moments, particularly, where you all just become human beings -- step outside of your cultural identity and try to see everything from one central viewpoint. Some of the most valuable experiences of my lifetime. And I look forward to, someday, being able to have these conversations in both English and Korean, to further the leveling of the proverbial playing ground.
P.S. -- I'm somewhat dropping out of Korean class for the time being. There are three major reasons for this:
1. Work. I've always said my job is my first priority in Korea, and I mean that. Not rushing out of the office at soon as the clock turns over to 4:30, and not trying to jam Korean homework in between classes on my off periods has allowed me to slow down and put the time and effort I used to into my lessons. I miss feeling completely prepared and relaxed at work. And I haven't given the level differentiations as much attention as they deserve since we've made them. I need some time to adjust to the new work load and schedule, so that I can do my job in the most effective manner possible.
2. Now that I'm at the level I'm at, I want to try my hand at studying on my own, just to see how it is -- if it will be more or less productive than attending classes. Studying on my own means I can focus on what I feel is useful for me, and not just whatever the class is working on at any given moment. My class has also slimmed down significantly and... I don't mean to sound like an asshole, but I started out as the next-to-lowest level student and now I'm pretty much the highest. I have a hard time being patient when I understand what the teacher is saying the first time around, but I have to sit and listen to her explain it six more times so everyone else catches on.
Also, I was somewhat joking when I mentioned K dramas as "studying" before, but what I noticed when I was watching them over vacation (for the first time in ages, since I've hardly had the time lately), is that I really am understanding a significant amount. Enough for it to actually help, and to be able to hear individual words and phrases and understand them in context.
3. The holidays are coming up and it can be a lonely time in the ROK as a foreigner, if you aren't making the effort to stay connected to other foreigners who are going through the same thing. Lately, I haven't had the time or energy to socialize much outside of a very small group of Incheon people, because when the weekend rolls around, I literally cannot make myself go into Seoul, or out at all on a Friday night. And there isn't time to even think about socializing during the week.
The holidays coming on the tail of my first trip home has the potential to lead into a serious emotional meltdown if I allow myself to get too stressed, underslept and socially isolated. I'd prefer to get good sleep, eat a well-balanced diet (which is impossible on nights when I have Korean class), and spend time with those people I haven't had much of a chance to, because the live in other parts of Seoul and the satellite cities.
Not to mention, Smalltown is leaving very, very soon. And we've been talking about taking a trip to Busan before he goes. I won't have the energy to make that happen if I continue on the way I have been.
I feel nervous about making this decision, because I feel like I might lose everything I've learned up to this point, if I can't make the effort to be dedicated enough to studying on my own, or if I'm wrong about feeling like I can do so effectively at this point. I don't want to slow down in my progression. But I also feel frustrated that, although a lot of building blocks have been put into place, and my comprehension is way up, I still can't make much use of it in everyday life, because my time to study on my own, and therefore acquire the vocabulary I need in everyday conversation, is extremely limited. Because I'm busy all the time.
Now, I know how to make sentences. But when I go to do it, I can't produce the words necessary to fill in the blanks. What I really need is a seriously kickass textbook. Anyone reading who has any suggestions, please please do leave them. I still have my course textbook to finish up, but I'm definitely way past the beginner level book I was working out of originally.
Okay. Enough of that boring stuff.
Just got off the phone with Smalltown. Sometimes it really feels like it's me and him against the world. Hours and hours of conversation have gone into me and him recounting various social interactions and trying our best to work through the oddities and cultural differences, sort out what is individual personality and what is cultural traits that we can identify and try to make sense out of.
He's one of the only other foreigners I know who really puts in the effort to get to know Koreans. As much as, essentially, human beings are human beings, there really can be a hell of a lot of social blundering through that goes on when you're trying to bridge the gaps. The good comes when you meet Koreans who are also interested in sorting out the differences, and there have been a wealth of fascinating conversations and exchanges that have resulted from this. And it's in those moments, particularly, where you all just become human beings -- step outside of your cultural identity and try to see everything from one central viewpoint. Some of the most valuable experiences of my lifetime. And I look forward to, someday, being able to have these conversations in both English and Korean, to further the leveling of the proverbial playing ground.
10.19.2009
It's cold.
So, I'm not on quarantine. Hooray for my school's continued refusal to be like all the other PS's we hear about all the time that are horrible and backwards. I just had to go in and get my temperature checked by the nurse. And everyone was very impressed that I went to the doctor and already got on medication while I was home, just in case. They weren't the only ones -- my grandmother just about keeled over in shock when I said I wanted to go, given my complete refusal to go to the doctor for years even when close to death. But. You have a good school, you go out of your way not to screw them and to keep them happy. That's what I think.
I also got to have a little chat with my principal, which is extremely rare. It was to celebrate the fact that I actually came back. The first thing out of his mouth when I walked into the office, after nice to see you, was, "I didn't expect that you would return." In Korean, of course.
Near the end of the conversation something slightly disturbing happened. He asked me something about meeting my boyfriend. Since it was in Korean, I was confused about whether he had asked if I met my boyfriend while I was in the US, or if I had met my boyfriend since I had been back. Coteacher clarified that he meant, since I had been back. 남자친구 없어요.
없어? 정말?
Apparently there's a rumor going around the school that I have a boyfriend in Korea. After I clarified the issue, the principal then further embarrassed me by saying that he hopes I make a boyfriend in Korea soon.
What do you say back to that?
Then I walked into the teachers' office and got a standing ovation. I'm not kidding. Today was an all-around blush-worthy occasion.
The students, for the most part, have reverted back to their brand-new-to-the-원어민 stage upon my return, being absolute little angelic darlings. I should leave more often. There's nothing to soften the blow of having to leave my family again for another year like all of those boys literally running into class, shouting, "TEACHER!!! I MISSED YOU!"
Needless to say, my ego is enormous at the moment.
There was some rogue behavior in my sixth period, and for some reason (I think due to the contrast with the other students I had all day), it seriously pissed me off. So much so that I marched six students straight down to the teacher's office after class to have Coteacher lecture them. She basically told them that I had just come back from America, that they were lucky I had returned at all with their horrible behavior, and did they want me to leave the school because they made life hard for me? She doesn't have to be here -- she chooses to be here, away from her family and her home. She chooses to be here for you, and you can't even be quiet in class? This is her first day back. She is tired and she misses her family. How could you do this to her?
You tell 'em, 샘. If only she could always be my coteacher.
In other news, it is fucking freakishly cold. I'm not ready for this.
I also got to have a little chat with my principal, which is extremely rare. It was to celebrate the fact that I actually came back. The first thing out of his mouth when I walked into the office, after nice to see you, was, "I didn't expect that you would return." In Korean, of course.
Near the end of the conversation something slightly disturbing happened. He asked me something about meeting my boyfriend. Since it was in Korean, I was confused about whether he had asked if I met my boyfriend while I was in the US, or if I had met my boyfriend since I had been back. Coteacher clarified that he meant, since I had been back. 남자친구 없어요.
없어? 정말?
Apparently there's a rumor going around the school that I have a boyfriend in Korea. After I clarified the issue, the principal then further embarrassed me by saying that he hopes I make a boyfriend in Korea soon.
What do you say back to that?
Then I walked into the teachers' office and got a standing ovation. I'm not kidding. Today was an all-around blush-worthy occasion.
The students, for the most part, have reverted back to their brand-new-to-the-원어민 stage upon my return, being absolute little angelic darlings. I should leave more often. There's nothing to soften the blow of having to leave my family again for another year like all of those boys literally running into class, shouting, "TEACHER!!! I MISSED YOU!"
Needless to say, my ego is enormous at the moment.
There was some rogue behavior in my sixth period, and for some reason (I think due to the contrast with the other students I had all day), it seriously pissed me off. So much so that I marched six students straight down to the teacher's office after class to have Coteacher lecture them. She basically told them that I had just come back from America, that they were lucky I had returned at all with their horrible behavior, and did they want me to leave the school because they made life hard for me? She doesn't have to be here -- she chooses to be here, away from her family and her home. She chooses to be here for you, and you can't even be quiet in class? This is her first day back. She is tired and she misses her family. How could you do this to her?
You tell 'em, 샘. If only she could always be my coteacher.
In other news, it is fucking freakishly cold. I'm not ready for this.
The Waiting Game.
So what am I doing? I'm sitting here, at 7:30 am, all showered up, waiting for my phone to ring to tell me whether or not I'm on quarantine. I really hate to admit it, because I don't like being a lazy bastard, and I love my job and miss my boys, but I sort of hope I am. At least for a couple of days. A week would drive me crazy. But I wouldn't mind today and maybe tomorrow off, to get a little caught back up to life.
Yesterday C came over and we talked about his website (which I will be pimping on this blog soon) a bit, and then texted Smalltown to see if he was awake/alive. He called back with his I-just-woke-up-and-am-hungover-and-possibly-even-still-drunk voice (which I recognize instantly at this point) to tell literally the most ridiculous story yet about his night/morning out, which I missed due to jetlag snoozing. It involved making out with two Korean girls in public, 3/4 a bottle of found Hennessy, and one very well-known local expat semi-coming out of the closet at around 9 am. Class stuff.
About five minutes after we hung up, Smalltown phoned back to say he was on his way to the station and was coming over to join us. Still drunk. At about 3 pm.
We ordered food and sat around my place drinking just a bit of soju and spinning yarns a mile long. Smalltown was asking about my trip home, which led to me telling the boys quite a bit of stuff that no one in the ROK to date knows about me, which has been done on purpose. New place, new people, new start -- no need to relive the past. That's been my modus operondai so far. But after only a couple of shots of soju and very little leading or prodding, I found it easily coming out of my mouth.
Mostly what happened was, with us sitting around shooting the shit like that, I realized that I've got a couple of really good friends here. The real kind. And they don't actually know shit about me. And it's okay for them to, at least a little. Smalltown said, after I finished spilling, that suddenly a lot about me made a lot more sense.
It's been ages since I've felt that at home in a social situation. We hung around talking till just past 9. It was honestly the best welcome back to Korea I could have hoped for.
I just can't believe Smalltown is leaving Korea in five weeks. He's already started saying he's probably coming back, but he's going to take three weeks at home to think about it and clear his head. So we'll see.
I love those boys. And I'm grateful for them. With the weather turning to fall again, and everything feeling and smelling like it did when I arrived a year ago, I'm really taking stock of how much things have changed and how far I have come. It's a good feeling, after feeling for so long like I was spinning wheels in just about every direction.
Things are a bit shaky at the moment, but good. I'm ready to face this year head on and make the very best of it -- take advantage of every moment, and keep moving forward in life.
Life is very strange, but very good. Don't you think, kiddos?
Yesterday C came over and we talked about his website (which I will be pimping on this blog soon) a bit, and then texted Smalltown to see if he was awake/alive. He called back with his I-just-woke-up-and-am-hungover-and-possibly-even-still-drunk voice (which I recognize instantly at this point) to tell literally the most ridiculous story yet about his night/morning out, which I missed due to jetlag snoozing. It involved making out with two Korean girls in public, 3/4 a bottle of found Hennessy, and one very well-known local expat semi-coming out of the closet at around 9 am. Class stuff.
About five minutes after we hung up, Smalltown phoned back to say he was on his way to the station and was coming over to join us. Still drunk. At about 3 pm.
We ordered food and sat around my place drinking just a bit of soju and spinning yarns a mile long. Smalltown was asking about my trip home, which led to me telling the boys quite a bit of stuff that no one in the ROK to date knows about me, which has been done on purpose. New place, new people, new start -- no need to relive the past. That's been my modus operondai so far. But after only a couple of shots of soju and very little leading or prodding, I found it easily coming out of my mouth.
Mostly what happened was, with us sitting around shooting the shit like that, I realized that I've got a couple of really good friends here. The real kind. And they don't actually know shit about me. And it's okay for them to, at least a little. Smalltown said, after I finished spilling, that suddenly a lot about me made a lot more sense.
It's been ages since I've felt that at home in a social situation. We hung around talking till just past 9. It was honestly the best welcome back to Korea I could have hoped for.
I just can't believe Smalltown is leaving Korea in five weeks. He's already started saying he's probably coming back, but he's going to take three weeks at home to think about it and clear his head. So we'll see.
I love those boys. And I'm grateful for them. With the weather turning to fall again, and everything feeling and smelling like it did when I arrived a year ago, I'm really taking stock of how much things have changed and how far I have come. It's a good feeling, after feeling for so long like I was spinning wheels in just about every direction.
Things are a bit shaky at the moment, but good. I'm ready to face this year head on and make the very best of it -- take advantage of every moment, and keep moving forward in life.
Life is very strange, but very good. Don't you think, kiddos?
10.18.2009
Year 2.
So, boys and girls. Here we go -- it's the official beginning of Liz's second year in the ROK. 이상한. Being back feels a bit awkward, and a bit too normal all at once. Yes, kiddies, I know -- it was just two weeks. But I'm one of those people who's head is pretty easy to fuck with. And the underlying calm is just... unnerving.
So last night, after nearly 24 hours of traveling, I arrived haggard and greasy, carting an extra suitcase stuffed full of deodorant, size gigantic American women's shoes, d cup bras and jeans with ass room -- I focused on the important things while I was home. Like not doing any of my Korean homework (watching K dramas totally counts for something, though, when you can almost understand every fifth sentence, especially if it has numbers in it). Now comes the task of ringing Coteacher to inform her that my little cousin had the swine flue while I was there and that I already went to the doctor and am on totally unnecessary, really expensive antibiotics that should help me not to develop the stuff myself (?). Guess who might end up quarantined this week.
Guess who really doesn't care.
I completely bailed on Smalltown last night, after somehow convincing myself that I might be up for a pint after I arrived, and passed out cold before 11. Which resulted in my eyes springing open at precisely 5 am this morning. Made a trip to the GS25 up the street for milk and caught the sleeping teenage clerk completely off guard and confused him by speaking Korean, on top of everything else. Oh man. I'm a foreigner again.
Smalltown was just getting started at 10 last night, so I can imagine he's not even awake yet. I should be working on my one million pages of neglected Korean work, but I've already completely unpacked, put the new lovely black sheets on the bed and done the horrendous dishes I left in the sink before hightailing it out of here in a rush on Friday morning because I decided to make a fucking night of it the night before and The Baby wouldn't get his 학생 ass out of bed. Idiot. Me, not him. By the way, amazing things go on in a half empty glass of red wine left sitting for two weeks.
I did text The Baby when I got in last night, just as I promised, but cut it short because I was dying to crawl into bed, and he can go on forever when he's bored at work. I guess I'll have to wait till later this week to find out if my getting drunk and thinking co-ed slumber parties are the best idea ever, and my habit of absolutely hating sleeping alone the night before a flight, will lead to any residual awkwardness. I think he's just young enough to blow it off, though. Here's hoping.
Now I'm bored. It's noon and I'm bored. I miss TV already.
I'm about to start pestering C via text message to come over and get the stuff I brought back from Texas. Or start sending Smalltown a million texts to try to wake him up. Or I could just show up at the bar when The Bar Tender is supposed to be there, preparing to open, even though I told him I wouldn't be able to this weekend. I'm waiting till after I find out if I'm going to be quarantined to do that, though. For obvious, work night kind of reasons.
Seriously. Why don't I just do my homework?
Year 2, here we go....
So last night, after nearly 24 hours of traveling, I arrived haggard and greasy, carting an extra suitcase stuffed full of deodorant, size gigantic American women's shoes, d cup bras and jeans with ass room -- I focused on the important things while I was home. Like not doing any of my Korean homework (watching K dramas totally counts for something, though, when you can almost understand every fifth sentence, especially if it has numbers in it). Now comes the task of ringing Coteacher to inform her that my little cousin had the swine flue while I was there and that I already went to the doctor and am on totally unnecessary, really expensive antibiotics that should help me not to develop the stuff myself (?). Guess who might end up quarantined this week.
Guess who really doesn't care.
I completely bailed on Smalltown last night, after somehow convincing myself that I might be up for a pint after I arrived, and passed out cold before 11. Which resulted in my eyes springing open at precisely 5 am this morning. Made a trip to the GS25 up the street for milk and caught the sleeping teenage clerk completely off guard and confused him by speaking Korean, on top of everything else. Oh man. I'm a foreigner again.
Smalltown was just getting started at 10 last night, so I can imagine he's not even awake yet. I should be working on my one million pages of neglected Korean work, but I've already completely unpacked, put the new lovely black sheets on the bed and done the horrendous dishes I left in the sink before hightailing it out of here in a rush on Friday morning because I decided to make a fucking night of it the night before and The Baby wouldn't get his 학생 ass out of bed. Idiot. Me, not him. By the way, amazing things go on in a half empty glass of red wine left sitting for two weeks.
I did text The Baby when I got in last night, just as I promised, but cut it short because I was dying to crawl into bed, and he can go on forever when he's bored at work. I guess I'll have to wait till later this week to find out if my getting drunk and thinking co-ed slumber parties are the best idea ever, and my habit of absolutely hating sleeping alone the night before a flight, will lead to any residual awkwardness. I think he's just young enough to blow it off, though. Here's hoping.
Now I'm bored. It's noon and I'm bored. I miss TV already.
I'm about to start pestering C via text message to come over and get the stuff I brought back from Texas. Or start sending Smalltown a million texts to try to wake him up. Or I could just show up at the bar when The Bar Tender is supposed to be there, preparing to open, even though I told him I wouldn't be able to this weekend. I'm waiting till after I find out if I'm going to be quarantined to do that, though. For obvious, work night kind of reasons.
Seriously. Why don't I just do my homework?
Year 2, here we go....
10.15.2009
Heartache.
Korea, I love you, but sometimes you piss me off.
Not having a debit card that works internationally means that, before I left Korea, I checked flights to San Diego, where my brother is stationed. Flights were $300. I brought enough money to pay $500, just in case. By the time I arrived in Dallas, flights to San Diego were $800.
An insane amount of money to pay to see someone for two days, but I've done stranger things. I would have done it. But I can't get to any of my money once I leave the ROK.
Talking to him on the phone. It breaks my heart. He's just like me, in that he doesn't believe a thing anyone says, ever, when it comes from the heart at times. I hope he heard that I really did want to come, but I don't know.
I miss that kid so much. It's like I'm cut in half.
Not having a debit card that works internationally means that, before I left Korea, I checked flights to San Diego, where my brother is stationed. Flights were $300. I brought enough money to pay $500, just in case. By the time I arrived in Dallas, flights to San Diego were $800.
An insane amount of money to pay to see someone for two days, but I've done stranger things. I would have done it. But I can't get to any of my money once I leave the ROK.
Talking to him on the phone. It breaks my heart. He's just like me, in that he doesn't believe a thing anyone says, ever, when it comes from the heart at times. I hope he heard that I really did want to come, but I don't know.
I miss that kid so much. It's like I'm cut in half.
Where the ladies at.
A series of emails from Smalltown have suddenly reminded me that I do have some semblance of a life waiting for me back in the ROK. It's hard not to become convinced that I've stumbled out of a black hole and back into my life from a year ago -- some sort of depressing loop of a wormhole or... I don't know what I'm getting at with this. Except that it's nice (very nice) to hear from people back in Korea while I'm here and (for all intents and purposes) it feels as though none of it ever actually happened. Which makes getting on that plane to return a whole lot scarier.
Smalltown is mostly passing on news about how things are going with his gal, some other d-bag we used to know who has suddenly contacted him again, and The Baby.
Apparently The Baby called him tonight because he was drinking alone at the local. Depressed. Three more of his friends left for the army yesterday. And some 29 year old Korean loser baramdoongi apparently tried to make The Baby sleep with a random girl. Which The Baby didn't want to do. Which made The Baby more depressed.
Said loser baramdoongi is apparently going to be at the birthday party next weekend. I have a special knack for being able to get under the skin of playboys -- they hate that I'm not even good looking, yet completely immune to their nonsense. I can't wait to get my hands on this jerk. And not in a good way. You make The Baby cry, I make you cry. Got it, tough guy? Don't fuck with my kids.
The other good bit of news is that The Baby apparently has a female foreigner friend named Natasha who Smalltown thinks I might be able to hang with. I was just thinking the other day (and I know I've said it here a million times already...), I cannot continue on with my life in Korea minus female companionship. It's driving me insane.
Everyone knows I love the boys. But come on. I'm not actually one of them, at least not entirely. I gotta find some local down females, or I'm going to lose it. The trouble is, I'm really picky about girls.
No whining. No pretending not to be able to hold your liquor, no protesting to my constant cloud of cigarette smoke. No curfew, no bedtime. No annoying boyfriend calling you every five minutes. No goddamn doing your makeup at the table. Well. At least not constantly. And the only talk I want to hear about men, until we've bonded enough to actually give a shit about each other, better be about how hot they are -- not how many phone calls they didn't return or how like totally into you you thought they were before they like totally ditched you after like the most wonderful week of like your whole entire life.
And it helps if the potential 'she' is just a tad bitchy. Because then we'll match.
God. A girl can fucking dream. Incheon: where the ladies at?
Smalltown is mostly passing on news about how things are going with his gal, some other d-bag we used to know who has suddenly contacted him again, and The Baby.
Apparently The Baby called him tonight because he was drinking alone at the local. Depressed. Three more of his friends left for the army yesterday. And some 29 year old Korean loser baramdoongi apparently tried to make The Baby sleep with a random girl. Which The Baby didn't want to do. Which made The Baby more depressed.
Said loser baramdoongi is apparently going to be at the birthday party next weekend. I have a special knack for being able to get under the skin of playboys -- they hate that I'm not even good looking, yet completely immune to their nonsense. I can't wait to get my hands on this jerk. And not in a good way. You make The Baby cry, I make you cry. Got it, tough guy? Don't fuck with my kids.
The other good bit of news is that The Baby apparently has a female foreigner friend named Natasha who Smalltown thinks I might be able to hang with. I was just thinking the other day (and I know I've said it here a million times already...), I cannot continue on with my life in Korea minus female companionship. It's driving me insane.
Everyone knows I love the boys. But come on. I'm not actually one of them, at least not entirely. I gotta find some local down females, or I'm going to lose it. The trouble is, I'm really picky about girls.
No whining. No pretending not to be able to hold your liquor, no protesting to my constant cloud of cigarette smoke. No curfew, no bedtime. No annoying boyfriend calling you every five minutes. No goddamn doing your makeup at the table. Well. At least not constantly. And the only talk I want to hear about men, until we've bonded enough to actually give a shit about each other, better be about how hot they are -- not how many phone calls they didn't return or how like totally into you you thought they were before they like totally ditched you after like the most wonderful week of like your whole entire life.
And it helps if the potential 'she' is just a tad bitchy. Because then we'll match.
God. A girl can fucking dream. Incheon: where the ladies at?
10.14.2009
Things my family definitely should've told me when I first arrived:
That my brother's pool table is in the garage.
So much for that really buckling down and cramming on the Korean homework during my last few days home. I'm going to go hang out in the "man cave", as the boys have wittily come to call it.
It's okay. Yesterday I baked a cake. I'm keeping my gender identification equally mixed, as always.
And tomorrow I might take my cousin and her husband to noraebang in Dallas. Because I hate it so much that I have to seek it out in my hometown. Maybe we'll find a place with decent wangalbi while we're down there, anyway.
So much for that really buckling down and cramming on the Korean homework during my last few days home. I'm going to go hang out in the "man cave", as the boys have wittily come to call it.
It's okay. Yesterday I baked a cake. I'm keeping my gender identification equally mixed, as always.
And tomorrow I might take my cousin and her husband to noraebang in Dallas. Because I hate it so much that I have to seek it out in my hometown. Maybe we'll find a place with decent wangalbi while we're down there, anyway.
10.10.2009
If you take it, eat it.
Tonight I went to my very first hometown high school football game, after eating dinner at a place called Bosses Pizza. I just though I owed you guys a little Texas. Tomorrow will be the mall, with two teenage boys. No matter what I do, I can't get away from teenage boys....
Is that won? W-O-N?
"Chase Manhattan Bank, Beach and Western Center. This is Brad. How may I help you?"
"Yes sir I was just wondering if you do foreign currency exchange?"
"Yes ma'am we do. What kinda money will you be changing?"
"South Korean won."
"South..."
"South. Korean. Won."
"Hold on just one moment, ma'am."
"Sure thing."
"Ma'am?"
"Yes sir?"
"Hold on just one moment. We're uh... we're trying to see if we change that... that... won..."
"Sure thing."
"Ma'am?"
"Yes sir?"
"Is it South Korean won? W-O-N?"
"Yes sir."
"Okay we do take that kind of currency ma'am."
"Excellent. Thank you very much and have a beautiful day."
The glamorous life of a world traveler, eh? Later tonight, I'm going to the mall. I'll be the oldest person there.
"Yes sir I was just wondering if you do foreign currency exchange?"
"Yes ma'am we do. What kinda money will you be changing?"
"South Korean won."
"South..."
"South. Korean. Won."
"Hold on just one moment, ma'am."
"Sure thing."
"Ma'am?"
"Yes sir?"
"Hold on just one moment. We're uh... we're trying to see if we change that... that... won..."
"Sure thing."
"Ma'am?"
"Yes sir?"
"Is it South Korean won? W-O-N?"
"Yes sir."
"Okay we do take that kind of currency ma'am."
"Excellent. Thank you very much and have a beautiful day."
The glamorous life of a world traveler, eh? Later tonight, I'm going to the mall. I'll be the oldest person there.
10.09.2009
10.07.2009
One of those people.
I hate to admit this, but I feel like I'm dying a little without my phone. First thing to get sorted before any other overseas trip is some way to keep the damn thing on while I'm out of country. On the other hand, there's a very distinct feeling of two completely separate worlds. It literally feels like I've gone back in time one year.
Ugh. The last thing I need on vacation is too much time to think. I knew this was coming. Things that seemed relatively simple and straightforward Friday morning on the train ride to the airport now feel quite muddled.
Like really, really muddled.
I need to get back to being too busy to over analyze things. Soon.
I know what will help. Maybe I'll see an ex while I'm in town. Ha.
Ugh. The last thing I need on vacation is too much time to think. I knew this was coming. Things that seemed relatively simple and straightforward Friday morning on the train ride to the airport now feel quite muddled.
Like really, really muddled.
I need to get back to being too busy to over analyze things. Soon.
I know what will help. Maybe I'll see an ex while I'm in town. Ha.
10.05.2009
I miss my love stick.
Nothing too exciting to report, as of yet. I miss Korea, in the sense that I miss sort of everyday life. Today was the first day I got out and about around the American public in a year, and it was extremely odd. In all of the ways that I expected it would be -- the English speaking everywhere, everyone being enormous, not being stared at (as much). Smalltalk with strangers that wasn't marred by language timidity on either side. The men.
God, the men are different. Not in a bad or good way -- just different. Hairy and five-o'clock-shadowed and broad and -- well, this is Texas -- wearing workman's clothing.
I feel positively tiny. And, for the record, I'm not.
The food is destroying my stomach. I'm going to have to take it easy for the next two weeks.
Advantages to being home include helping my little cousin with his algebra homework, like the genius that I am, being able to sit out on the porch at night and talk to Mike on the phone, and continuing to visit with the baby nephew.
The next couple of days will see me trying to sort out a bit of fall clothing shopping, while also tending to the house while my grandparents are away. Babies and housewife duty. Don't get any big ideas. I'll be back in the ROK, swinging my love stick around again, in no time.
Ahem. Too much?
God, the men are different. Not in a bad or good way -- just different. Hairy and five-o'clock-shadowed and broad and -- well, this is Texas -- wearing workman's clothing.
I feel positively tiny. And, for the record, I'm not.
The food is destroying my stomach. I'm going to have to take it easy for the next two weeks.
Advantages to being home include helping my little cousin with his algebra homework, like the genius that I am, being able to sit out on the porch at night and talk to Mike on the phone, and continuing to visit with the baby nephew.
The next couple of days will see me trying to sort out a bit of fall clothing shopping, while also tending to the house while my grandparents are away. Babies and housewife duty. Don't get any big ideas. I'll be back in the ROK, swinging my love stick around again, in no time.
Ahem. Too much?
10.03.2009
Home and the story of the baby.
Alright, so. First some sobering news.
I flew in yesterday, to be greeted at the airport by my mother, my brother's beautiful wife and my new baby nephew, and (unfortunately) the news that my great aunt Opal may be dying, which means my grandparents just left for Alabama this morning (I'm writing this from Texas time, 5:30 am, coffee mug in hand, in big overstuffed arm chair). This is my grandmother's last living relative who means much of anything to her, out of literally a dozen brothers and sisters. They are very close, and Aunt Opal has been like another grandmother to us kids. We visited her every summer since the time we were little. And the worst part is my poor grandmother having to choose between my short visit and her sister alone in the hospital (obvious which one wins, but for her to have to go through that....).
It seems like it's always something, kiddos. Prayers and that, if you're so inclined, or positive vibes out to the universe (it's all the same to me) would be greatly appreciated.
The baby is a doll. Even though I'm somewhat awkward around kids that little, not exactly having the mothering instinct, we seemed to get along alright, me and him.
My hair is so sexy after a twenty hour flight.
So anyway, you want this story with the kid? Hang on. Let me grab another cup of coffee.
Okay. So. I give that boy all kinds of grief about being baramdoongi. The whole evening, he was making a huge deal out of the fact that it was "Liz last night in Korea," and making me promise over and over again that I would come back. After a hookah bar, and a hoff (where we teamed off and played a couple drinking game that involved approaching strangers and asking them for alcohol, after dozens of glasses of somaek, we somehow ended up holding hands in the street.
Now. If you know Liz, you know Liz doesn't hold hands. And certainly not in the street. But the romance of the "last night" (along with the soju) was going to my head. It was harmless.
Then came the moment I realized that the baby is genuine. Remember the title? "How a baby restored my faith in men" -- subtitle, "and also humiliated me in front of a significant portion of the Incheon expat community at the same time."
We headed to The Bar Tender's bar, after Smalltown's lovely girl headed home in a taxi. The baby and I wandered off during their goodbyes, to give them a chance to... well, whatever. At any rate, fifteen minutes later, Smalltown called to say that The Bar Tender's bar was where he was. When we got there, he was busy regaling some other foreigners we (sort of) know with magic tricks on the porch outside. I ordered a couple of Cass for me and the baby, and took a seat in front of a closed shop next door. This is where I screwed up.
"Oh, chimi obseo...."
"Chimi obdah?"
"Neh."
"Wae?"
"Just. It's always the same."
At this point, something happened. I don't know if it was my fault or not, but somehow the baby decided two things:
1. Smalltown is my best friend in the entire world and was ruining my life/Last Night by talking to anyone other than me.
2. The other foreign men present at the bar were participating in Smalltown's ruining of my life/Last Night by talking to him and not also being my best friends in the entire world.
Of course, I didn't realize this. What I saw was:
"[Smalltown]! You Liz best friend! Tonight Liz last night. You two need to talking. Come here inside bar. Sit here, beside. Okay now you talking. Now I go talk other foreigners."
I was pissed. You're really going to pull this totally Korean foreigner groupie move right now, after going on about how "important" tonight is, and ditch me to go talk to new foreigners (men)? I officially became not fun to talk to, and told Smalltown to just go out and talk with them, and leave me alone at the bar with The Bar Tender. Which was when Smalltown let it slip that, before shoving him inside with me, the baby had told him that I was upset and he was being a lousy friend (Smalltown thinking me telling him to go outside was a symptom of this, and not realizing that I was irritated with the baby, and didn't want to ruin Smalltown's night again by being pissy to him as well, when he had done nothing wrong).
"....What?"
At this point, one of the foreigners from outside wandered in. "Uh. Liz. Is there a problem?"
"...What?? What is he out there doing...?"
I hopped off the bar stool and made for the porch. All three men -- Smalltown, the other foreigner and The Bar Tender grabbed me and held me back.
The other foreigner: "No no. Like... he's fine. He's being really polite and everything, but he seems to think we're upsetting you and we should go somewhere else...."
"WHAT? Oh my god. No."
Smalltown went out and pulled the boy inside, got him sat on at a table and started to explain things to him, while I went out to smooth things over with the other foreigners. When I came back in, I pulled up a stool next to the baby. His face was a mess, nearly in tears, explaining how this is "really Liz last night and everything must to be perfect".
How can you stay angry? I went a bit serious at this point, realizing that there was something more than wind behind the baby's incessant carrying on. "Hey, hey.... look at me."
He wouldn't for more than a second. "Your eyes scary to me. I made a mistake. It's my fault.... it's my fault...."
Something changed in that moment.
I'm going to be honest. I have some trust issues. In general, and not just with, for lack of a better qualification, Koreans. But since coming to Korea, I'm even slower to trust. There must be a motive. There's always got to be a motive. I'm a foreigner. I could be any foreigner....
It was time for the baby to go home. Alcohol emotion was hitting him just too hard. We said our goodbyes to Smalltown and the baby walked me to the front of the long line of 4 am cabs. We stood there in front of them, as he held on for dear life. "You really.... oh. Oh, you really must come back to Korea. I really have hard time to say goodbye to dear friend. You really promise you must come back to Korea. You send me message. Oh, you must promise...."
"[Baby]. When my plane lands in Korea, I promise you, you will be the first person I send a message to."
"Jinjjah?"
"Jongmal."
"I can't to let a dear friend go..."
This waffling went on for nearly ten minutes. At which point, dear reader, I made an executive decision.
"Listen. I'm not trying to make this weird. But why don't you just come home with me?"
And so that's what he did. The poor little drunk thing spent the night there beside me, shivering in the cool pre-dawn air, and I fell asleep thinking about how surprising people can be, at times.
I flew in yesterday, to be greeted at the airport by my mother, my brother's beautiful wife and my new baby nephew, and (unfortunately) the news that my great aunt Opal may be dying, which means my grandparents just left for Alabama this morning (I'm writing this from Texas time, 5:30 am, coffee mug in hand, in big overstuffed arm chair). This is my grandmother's last living relative who means much of anything to her, out of literally a dozen brothers and sisters. They are very close, and Aunt Opal has been like another grandmother to us kids. We visited her every summer since the time we were little. And the worst part is my poor grandmother having to choose between my short visit and her sister alone in the hospital (obvious which one wins, but for her to have to go through that....).
It seems like it's always something, kiddos. Prayers and that, if you're so inclined, or positive vibes out to the universe (it's all the same to me) would be greatly appreciated.
The baby is a doll. Even though I'm somewhat awkward around kids that little, not exactly having the mothering instinct, we seemed to get along alright, me and him.
My hair is so sexy after a twenty hour flight.
So anyway, you want this story with the kid? Hang on. Let me grab another cup of coffee.
Okay. So. I give that boy all kinds of grief about being baramdoongi. The whole evening, he was making a huge deal out of the fact that it was "Liz last night in Korea," and making me promise over and over again that I would come back. After a hookah bar, and a hoff (where we teamed off and played a couple drinking game that involved approaching strangers and asking them for alcohol, after dozens of glasses of somaek, we somehow ended up holding hands in the street.
Now. If you know Liz, you know Liz doesn't hold hands. And certainly not in the street. But the romance of the "last night" (along with the soju) was going to my head. It was harmless.
Then came the moment I realized that the baby is genuine. Remember the title? "How a baby restored my faith in men" -- subtitle, "and also humiliated me in front of a significant portion of the Incheon expat community at the same time."
We headed to The Bar Tender's bar, after Smalltown's lovely girl headed home in a taxi. The baby and I wandered off during their goodbyes, to give them a chance to... well, whatever. At any rate, fifteen minutes later, Smalltown called to say that The Bar Tender's bar was where he was. When we got there, he was busy regaling some other foreigners we (sort of) know with magic tricks on the porch outside. I ordered a couple of Cass for me and the baby, and took a seat in front of a closed shop next door. This is where I screwed up.
"Oh, chimi obseo...."
"Chimi obdah?"
"Neh."
"Wae?"
"Just. It's always the same."
At this point, something happened. I don't know if it was my fault or not, but somehow the baby decided two things:
1. Smalltown is my best friend in the entire world and was ruining my life/Last Night by talking to anyone other than me.
2. The other foreign men present at the bar were participating in Smalltown's ruining of my life/Last Night by talking to him and not also being my best friends in the entire world.
Of course, I didn't realize this. What I saw was:
"[Smalltown]! You Liz best friend! Tonight Liz last night. You two need to talking. Come here inside bar. Sit here, beside. Okay now you talking. Now I go talk other foreigners."
I was pissed. You're really going to pull this totally Korean foreigner groupie move right now, after going on about how "important" tonight is, and ditch me to go talk to new foreigners (men)? I officially became not fun to talk to, and told Smalltown to just go out and talk with them, and leave me alone at the bar with The Bar Tender. Which was when Smalltown let it slip that, before shoving him inside with me, the baby had told him that I was upset and he was being a lousy friend (Smalltown thinking me telling him to go outside was a symptom of this, and not realizing that I was irritated with the baby, and didn't want to ruin Smalltown's night again by being pissy to him as well, when he had done nothing wrong).
"....What?"
At this point, one of the foreigners from outside wandered in. "Uh. Liz. Is there a problem?"
"...What?? What is he out there doing...?"
I hopped off the bar stool and made for the porch. All three men -- Smalltown, the other foreigner and The Bar Tender grabbed me and held me back.
The other foreigner: "No no. Like... he's fine. He's being really polite and everything, but he seems to think we're upsetting you and we should go somewhere else...."
"WHAT? Oh my god. No."
Smalltown went out and pulled the boy inside, got him sat on at a table and started to explain things to him, while I went out to smooth things over with the other foreigners. When I came back in, I pulled up a stool next to the baby. His face was a mess, nearly in tears, explaining how this is "really Liz last night and everything must to be perfect".
How can you stay angry? I went a bit serious at this point, realizing that there was something more than wind behind the baby's incessant carrying on. "Hey, hey.... look at me."
He wouldn't for more than a second. "Your eyes scary to me. I made a mistake. It's my fault.... it's my fault...."
Something changed in that moment.
I'm going to be honest. I have some trust issues. In general, and not just with, for lack of a better qualification, Koreans. But since coming to Korea, I'm even slower to trust. There must be a motive. There's always got to be a motive. I'm a foreigner. I could be any foreigner....
It was time for the baby to go home. Alcohol emotion was hitting him just too hard. We said our goodbyes to Smalltown and the baby walked me to the front of the long line of 4 am cabs. We stood there in front of them, as he held on for dear life. "You really.... oh. Oh, you really must come back to Korea. I really have hard time to say goodbye to dear friend. You really promise you must come back to Korea. You send me message. Oh, you must promise...."
"[Baby]. When my plane lands in Korea, I promise you, you will be the first person I send a message to."
"Jinjjah?"
"Jongmal."
"I can't to let a dear friend go..."
This waffling went on for nearly ten minutes. At which point, dear reader, I made an executive decision.
"Listen. I'm not trying to make this weird. But why don't you just come home with me?"
And so that's what he did. The poor little drunk thing spent the night there beside me, shivering in the cool pre-dawn air, and I fell asleep thinking about how surprising people can be, at times.
10.02.2009
Um.
So. How's this for a cliffhanger, Gentle Reader?
Right now I'm gulping down coffee and cigarettes and trying to cram as much ginseng as possible into my bag (which I clearly didn't pack last night), trying desperately to make it to the airport in some semblance of on time. The baby is asleep in my bed.
But it's not what you think.
I don't have time for this now, obviously, but when I get back stateside, after I rest up and eat some quality TexMex, meet my nephew and greet the rest of the family, I have possibly one of the best I'm no Picasso stories of all time for you. It'll be called: "How a baby restored my faith in men."
Catcha on the flipside, kiddies.
Right now I'm gulping down coffee and cigarettes and trying to cram as much ginseng as possible into my bag (which I clearly didn't pack last night), trying desperately to make it to the airport in some semblance of on time. The baby is asleep in my bed.
But it's not what you think.
I don't have time for this now, obviously, but when I get back stateside, after I rest up and eat some quality TexMex, meet my nephew and greet the rest of the family, I have possibly one of the best I'm no Picasso stories of all time for you. It'll be called: "How a baby restored my faith in men."
Catcha on the flipside, kiddies.
10.01.2009
Don't even go there.
Pamela says:
If you get arrested and miss your flight
I will come over to Korea and kill you ghetto style
and I can do it too
I watched it be done
I have the best mother in the whole world. That is ridiculous. How do you kill someone 'ghetto style'?
Anyway, that wasn't the kind of "trouble" I meant when I said I would try my best not to get into any tonight, Ma.
Now. Time to shower and get ready to go meet the baby. After he called me freaking out because I didn't answer his text immediately yesterday, and I told him to untwist his panties, he asked me if I would call him "before we are meeting tomorrow". Uh. Okay. What does that mean exactly? Anyone? Hi. It's me. I have nothing to say. I'm calling you before we meet. Goodbye.
Good grief. Liz. Leave it alone. Just leave it alone. Don't even go there.
If you get arrested and miss your flight
I will come over to Korea and kill you ghetto style
and I can do it too
I watched it be done
I have the best mother in the whole world. That is ridiculous. How do you kill someone 'ghetto style'?
Anyway, that wasn't the kind of "trouble" I meant when I said I would try my best not to get into any tonight, Ma.
Now. Time to shower and get ready to go meet the baby. After he called me freaking out because I didn't answer his text immediately yesterday, and I told him to untwist his panties, he asked me if I would call him "before we are meeting tomorrow". Uh. Okay. What does that mean exactly? Anyone? Hi. It's me. I have nothing to say. I'm calling you before we meet. Goodbye.
Good grief. Liz. Leave it alone. Just leave it alone. Don't even go there.
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