Saturday taunting.

I love waking up to a clean flat on Saturday. Which is a lot easier when both your bathroom and kitchen sink aren't completely fucked. Today is: Watching Roman Holiday (inspired by The Kid), making (mostly) vegetarian kimchi jjigae (an effort which none of my coworkers approve of), SORTING THE REST OF THE FUCKING PLUMBING (so I don't burn my toes off when I shower anymore) (I might have to handle some caulk hohoho), waiting for the students to make their way home from school past my front window so I can wave and taunt them about the fact that I didn't have to go.

That last one's mostly a joke. Because I already taunted them about it at school on Friday. As I do every Friday before Saturday classes.

"Good morning!"

"Good morning!"

"How are you?"

"I'M FINE THANKS AND YOU!"

"NO! EVERYDAY WHY! WHY WHY WHY! No. How are you REALLY?"

*indistinct, loud and blended*

"Who's hungry? Who's sleepy? Who's really really really happy to be in English class? Oh no. Okay. Guess what?"

"WHAT?"

"Today is Friday! Hooray!"

*applause*

"So tomorrow is.... what? Saturday! Hooray!"

*applause*

"Do you have school tomorrow?"

*grumbly yes's*

"Oh. That's too bad. I don't. Haha!"

We do this every Friday, with very little variation (unless a student gets particularly creative and decides to shout out something like, "SEXY!" after I ask, "How are you REALLY?"). Friday are my C classes. They never get tired of it. It's fucking hilarious every single time. Just like it's fucking hilarious every time I ask, "Where am I from?" and they all shout, "CANADA!" knowing goddamn well I'm American. God bless 'em.

Sticking to my guns.

A disproportionate amount of the kids in the Jjang Crew are on the school soccer team. As a result, I got cornered while I was aimlessly meandering around the halls today (classes all canceled thanks to word tests) and invited to the game after school today. I tried to tell them that I had shit I had to do -- it's fucking Friday after all -- but they efficiently pouted and told me I was beautiful girl enough that I felt compelled to stick around. (Yes, I'm just about that easy these days.)

As a result, my plumbing is still half a mess. I'll deal with it tomorrow. Because, apparently, tonight, the lads are coming round to my neck of the woods. After the incident with Smalltown's girl, he's still on the fence about her and has decided to use me as punishment. Which, you know, I've suggested possibly isn't the wisest long term plan, encouraging this rabid jealousy, but to no avail. What do I know anyway? Therefore the girl's been informed that he'll be meeting me (and me alone) after work at my apartment to consume alcohol until whenever he damn well pleases. Which isn't quite the case.

As I stated, the lads are coming round. Plural. Because. Here's the other bit of drama that's been going down: last weekend, apparently, Smalltown and I narrowly avoided a serious scene where the boys got caught up in a mess with some sort of gyopos who then jumped them and kicked the shit of them outside the bar. One of them is apparently still in the hospital. Mad shit. Out of control. No good. Etc.

So the boys aren't keen to return to the scene so soon. Understandably so. And while jumping someone is a pussy move, I had half a mind to make it known that it wouldn't do some of those guys too much harm to have it made known that they can't just open their mouths wherever, however and to whomever they wish without suffering consequences at times. Is all I'm saying on the matter.

I've been promised the raggedy ass half of that crew will not be invited out. And if they do show, I'm leaving immediately. I'm not about to have some stupid shit go down in my own neighborhood. Least of all, me being spotted holding a busted bottle jagged-edge first at the throat of some clown who got too bold. Apparently last we were out with them, one of them made some comments that completely sailed past me, due to the fact that I was busy mostly tuning everything out, that would have, had I caught them, resulted in an immediate altercation. I know myself well enough to know that, knowing that, I would just be on the look out for any excuse were said character to have the nerve to show his face tonight.

Mostly I'm hoping for a quiet night in a neighborhood hof with little to nothing to report at the end of it. Expecting plenty of girly relationship whining. That's alright. I'm good at taking that. The natural born face of a mother. Apparently.

Oi vey. This better not go tits up. But at least I have the comfort of knowing I can just peace the fuck out up the hill in a matter of minutes if it starts to.

I'll stick to my guns. This time, I really will.

Please shut the fuck up about the oil leak.

I just. Off topic for a moment, if you will indulge it.

All of the Americans bitching and moaning about how awful the oil spill in the gulf is... yeah. It's horrific. It's out of control ridiculous.

So have been our interactions with Saudi Arabia. So have been our political actions in basically all of the Middle East. The damage we've done to the environment with pollution, and the damage that damage has done, in turn, to other portions of mankind who are not so lucky as we are.

But blaming the oil companies? Really? You live in a capitalist, "free market" society, do you not? You dictate who and what companies take home big fat paychecks at the end of the day. You are the lifeblood of the oil industry.

So before three dozen more of you make blog posts about when are they going to be held responsible, just give yourself to the count of ten to fucking think that outcry through. Because the answer is, when you decide to give up some of your comfort in order to hold them responsible.

Friday Formspring.

I love studying other languages... and I usually end up finding a particular word or expresion that I especially love or find poetic. Are there any Korean words or expressions that you really like?

I'm not really on the expressions level yet, I guess. I still get caught up with individual words. Right now my favorite thing to say is "꺼져!", which is kind of something like, "Get off me!" or "Go away!" Not really poetic. The other one that's on my mind right now is 포기하다 -- to give up. The truth is, I'm a pretty simple-minded person, and I'll get way more fixated on a certain word for no particular reason than on an entire expression.

What do you think the average age of English teachers are in Korea? I am 27 and working as a Korean linguist for the US Army. By the time I get out and finish my BA I will be almost 30. Do you foresee any problems starting at 30?

I don't have a clue what the average age is, but I can say with confidence that you should have no problem whatsoever starting at 30. People like to claim that Koreans only want to hire young, inexperienced foreign teachers, but I think that's pretty much baloney, from what I've seen. Sure, some places may opt for a younger foreign teacher. But for every one of those, there's one that has had a bad experience with some kid straight out of unversity who had no idea what was going on, and had not experienced Life back in their home country, let alone in a foreign one, and would prefer not to ever go down that road again. Don't even worry about it.

Do you like MASH?

Haha. It's alright. My ma used to watch it when I was a kid. You know, it's a pretty fucking sexist show actually. Like... painfully sexist. I kind of cringe when I try to watch it, even though I don't like being "that kind" of feminist. I can read the Beats. I can listen to Southern rock. I can appreciate those things without getting up in arms about how terribly embarrassing a lot of those men's views toward women were. But MASH kind of does me in a bit. I find it hard to concentrate.

I saw you'd posted and then deleted it, but I know what you mean re: Korean guys taking things to a ridiculous Kdrama level, especially when it comes to dating foreigners. It seems like they move in with people super quickly, tell them they love them... it's weird. I wonder if they treat Koreans the same way or if it's just foreigners. Even gay Koreans treat Western guys this way, or so the experiences of my gay friends have led me to believe.

Yeah. I did delete it, because it mostly was just a bit of a mini-rant with no real content. I just wonder if it's something that the oddballs who date foreigners do, because they're.... odd. Which, not that all Koreans who date foreigners are odd. But there is a certain kind of Korean, I've noticed, who doesn't really jive within Korean society and seeks out foreigners as companions/dating partners, reasoning that things will be different there. In some cases, they're right -- they just have more Western sensibilities. In other cases, they don't fit in with Korean society not because it's Korean but because.... well, they wouldn't exactly fit in in the West either. Not to mention the attention seekers, who date foreigners not because Koreans who date foreigners are attention seekers, but because if you want to draw attention to yourself in Korea, dating a foreigner is one of a myriad good ways to go about it.

Um. What? Oh yeah. I don't know. It seems to me to be mostly a delayed adolescence kind of thing, honestly. Almost everytime I've heard of a Korean busting in on their foreign S.O.'s living situation and setting up a little instant domestic partnership, it's been because they've quarreled with their parents and are essentially sticking it to them. Which, you know, every other week another one of my students informs me that they are "never going home again". It seems to be a thing here. And all the drama and huge declarations of love and so on and so forth ... that's something we all go through as well, in the West (well, save for me... obviously I've never been involved in such nonsense) -- just at a much younger age.

Who knows. I can't be doing with it anymore, to be honest. Just like I can't be doing with 3am sobbing phone calls and hysterics about things that could possibly be gigantic fabricated lies just to get me to answer the phone. My recommendation is to stay away from Korean partners under the age of 26, if you don't want a whole boatload of what we consider high school behavior coming right on along with that pretty little face.

What's the magic number?

1.

When are you gonna get an upgrade on your apartment?

I don't know if this was intended to seem creepy or not, but it kind of is. What have I... have you seen my apartment? I don't particularly feel that it needs to be upgraded, and I certainly don't feel that my school owes it to me. I'm just happy not to be in an offic... one of those one room things I can never pronounce the name of. And I love and am familiar with my neighborhood. Know all the store clerks and have a working relationship with them. Not too far from the train or buses, not too far from my school. Close to the mountain if I should ever wake up some morning and decide I need to experience that (ha). The plumbing has been giving me nightmares for as long as I can remember, and there's a pretty distinct combo kimchi cooking/sewerish smell that can get a little out of hand at times during the summer months, but it's not too bad. I've certainly lived in worse.

Have you seen any live bands in korea?

I saw the RockTigers once. They were alright. These days I'm kind of and old fogey about live shows. Or I just got really spoiled by living in NYC. I'm not really sure. But any old thing isn't really going to do it for me. I've see loads of foreigners rave on and on about the RockTigers. I don't know if they've never seen live music before, or are just happy to see something going on here in Korea, but I honestly wasn't really that impressed. Bands are one of those things I can get really snotty about. Like, really really snotty. So I'm probably not the best person to ask about this.

What are your favourite places in Incheon/Korea?

This is going to sound super-duper lame, but honestly, my neighborhood. It's a little smalltownish, but close enough to everything one might need. There are streets lined with market goods and produce vendors all over the damn place. The old people hang out around the car parks playing Go-Stop in the shade and chatting. Kids running around shrieking and riding bikes. It's a great place to just wander around all afternoon, feeling at home. Doing the shopping, stopping to chat with this or that ajeosshi or ajumma or student or student's parent or adorable random little kid. A boatload of tiny grubby little hofs. Lots of restaurants. And we even got our second coffee shop, just two months ago. The watermelon truck guys give me free samples in the summer. The street food cart women shove sticks of spicy orange things into my hands as I pass them on the sidewalk. The coffee shop owner calls out my drink as soon as she sees the door open in front of me. The 편의점 lady lets me play with her grandbaby.

This is why no one ever sees me anymore. I basically almost refuse to leave my neighborhood these days. That having been said, when I do get into Seoul, I usually go in the earlier mornings and coffee shops are usually the target. Hongdae is obviously great for this (I really love Hongdae in the quiet early mornings), plus there's the park if you want to sit outside. Sinchon, occasionally Myeongdong, but honestly Myeongdong is usually too much for me. Namdaemun has the great art shops and is good for a stroll. I can usually be found in those three places, if I'm in Seoul.


All-Time favourite movie quote?

I don't really do favorites. Too difficult and basically I think they're almost always false statements, from the second they are uttered. But here's one that's been on my mind lately:



It's all happening....

Summer is Korean.

Well. I narrowly avoided death today. Aka going on my "business trip" with first the VP and then The PE Teacher With The Hair. Which, even though I know his name, is how I describe him to both the other Korean teachers and the students, who then immediately know who I'm talking about. The PE Teacher With The Hair is the newest of the lot, other than the one who looks like a bulldog, and is therefore the only one who still has issues when he encounters me in the hallway, or anywhere else where there aren't gallons of alcohol. When the VP came over to us at the lunch table today and began to describe this brilliant plan, which included intruding upon TPTWTH's early day off to have him cart me over to another district in his car, I shot Co "if you don't get me out of this I swear to god I'll bring in every single piece of mail I receive from now until eternity and make you translate every last word of it all" laser beams out of my eyes. She caught my gist and quickly explained that there was a bus sent directly from heaven which would deliver me straight to the other school's doorstep, and no PE teacher intermingling would be necessary.

The other Korean teachers gawked with first disbelief, and then envy, when they realized I had showed up all on my own. I ran straight into J, a weoneomin from the neighboring dong, and sat with her and her co, catching up a bit. Then, after long hard contemplation on my part, I made an executive decision that I didn't really need to stick around for the 45 minute spot marked "New Native Teacher Introductions" on the schedule and went to "the bathroom", aka the bus stop.

Being an oldie is quite nice. I don't have to rely on having a slacker ass co-teacher to be able to "run away".

Now I've got to clean my dump of an apartment. I meant to get round to it yesterday, but instead spend the afternoon conquering two of the four major plumbing problems I've been having (one more on the list for today, and possibly the last one tomorrow) and then I promptly fell asleep at 7 pm. I stopped by Homeplus, where I was seduced by all the Korean sidedishes in little plastic containers, which cost too much for no apparent reason.

For some reason, the warmer weather makes me want to do things Korean style. Winter is for Western things -- lush coffee and rich baked goods, whiskey and expensive imported dark beers. Summer is for soju and dried squid, big bowls of bibimbap and fermented everything.

Green tea lattes. Where do they fall? A little of both, I suppose.

Well. Enough of contemplating life's deeper questions. Getting the refuse from mine and Smalltown's night of contemplating life, love and soju cleared up, clean sheets and dishes put away. Then a few letters on the new typewriter. Possibly some other writing (?). And early to bed.

Tomorrow's Friday, so if you all hit that formspring, I'll get around to it. There have been some things setting in there all week, but I don't want this blog to turn into some kind of lame Q&A, so I think I'll try to keep it sequestered somewhat. Although without the formspring, I'm afraid this blog is just turning into a lame nothing instead. Which is what a blog should be, really. So wahey!

Home matters.

Last night while waiting for Smalltown to finish work and arrive, I did something I haven't done for about six months (possibly more?): I phoned my ma.

Woke her up, too. Ha.

Everybody starting to talk about leaving Korea for the second time around is making me feel really, really old. So I punished my mother for it by pointing out that in like three days I'll be 30. And then she'll have a child who's 30. She almost burst into tears. I felt slightly better.

She's already a grandmother though, and I certainly wasn't responsible for that. She's only 47 anyway -- truthfully, far from old.

My gramps is doing alright. Somehow, the chemo is just not making him that sick. Ma did have some grave news to pass on, however.

My grandparents are currently stationed in my grandmother's fucking rinky dink sticks hometown in Alabama. They're modest folk who have modest needs. So. They like to do a good little trip up to the Hardy's for hamburgers every now and then.

The thing is, since my gramps started radiation and chemo, his appetite hasn't been quite right. He just can't get as much food down as he used to. Before he got sick, he would order the 1/3 pounder and eat it all no problem.

Now that he's doing chemo, he's had to downgrade to two 1/4 pounders instead.

....

Everybody reckons it's better to just let the man have his moment and not point it out. I don't think there's any image in the world that better represents my grandparents as a couple, though, than him sitting there sadly double-fisting a combined half pound of meat, nostalgic for the golden days of the past, while my grandmother rolls her eyes in the background and doesn't utter a single word.

In other news, the Co's are all aflutter because no one can accompany me on the business trip tomorrow and they .... god bless 'em.

"....I can just go alone."

NO! It's in another place! You might have to take a train! You don't speak Korean! You're not Korean! Oh my god! A TRAIN AND A BUS! A TRAIN AND A BUS! AND SOME WALKING!

No shit. They're phoning the other school's vice principal over this shit. Meanwhile, I've plotted the whole trip out all on my own and know exactly where I'm going and how long it will take to get there. They just keep looking at the maps I've printed out and telling me that the subway cost 900 won with a card, 1000 without, and that when I make a transfer, I'll have to walk up some stairs.

Oh goodness. I guess some things will just always be like this.

I'm just going to blame this panic on the fact that they're all drivers and try to forget it.

Ah, soju. The drink of love and love lost. We're gonna be alright, kids. Every last one of us. And I'm not just saying that because it's 2 am on a Wednesday morning and I've got to be up for work in four hours, and my flat reeks of cigarettes and booze. I'm saying it because it's true.

That Smalltown kid's something else. Everyone else takes him for a fool, but I know better. And for having the fucking common decency to recognize it, I've been paid back ten fold. It's a rare creature who can impart wisdom upon The Liz. But that little Irish fucker can manage it. And he can even do it without offending my monumental pride. He's a good kid.

You all are.

Boozey hugs and kisses.

Sex in wartime is sweeter than peace.

Strange times here on this little peninsula, my lovelies. The students are telling me there's going to be a war, and will I go home? I'll be safer at home? Teacher go America?

I say, no. I will stay here. I will stay in Korea.

Teacher, why? Dangerous.

Because I love Korea.

헐! Really? Teacher really war stay?

Yes, kiddos. This is where I live. This is where I stay.

They ran down the hall to report this to all the other teachers.

And I had a feeling I'd better answer that lunchtime call. Storm's moving in. It's like some kind of bad television plotline. Smalltown's girl went to work at one of those "bad" noraebangs last night. And after all the shit we get just for having dinner together. So. Even though it's a fucking Tuesday, he's due over with a couple of bottles of soju to hash it all out tonight. Lovely. This is sure to get messy.

Other than that, a boatload of stuff. But I'm not going to tell it to you.

Dear Election Day.

I can't take this 24 hour song-and-dance fest much longer. I'm afraid to even go out there. Hurry the cunt up.

xo
Liz.

Smalltown and smoking.

You and Me have the same problem. I dont reside in korea neither am i Korean but i do have a problem with the term Oppa; id rather call them hyung if i am ever in a situation requiring such familiarity. That aside,is smalltown korean or american?

If you're not in Korea, and you're not Korean, I can hardly see an excuse for anyone to ever ask you to call him oppa. Unless you're speaking Korean. Even here in Korea, I don't generally use the brother/sister words, unless I'm speaking Korean. The exception is my workmates, or a few more "Korean" Koreans, who are older and with whom, for some reason, I don't feel comfortable using first names. Although, usually even then, it's 샘 (if they're a fellow teacher).

And Smalltown is neither -- he's Irish. I could hardly see us having the kind of relationship we have with him having a girlfriend, if he was Korean. Although his girlfriend is Korean, we do sort of expect her to adjust a bit to the fact that a. he's a foreigner and our relationships between the sexes work differently and b. I've been a very close friend of his for far longer than they've even known each other. I guess maybe it sounds strange, but if Smalltown were Korean, and hanging around the way he does while having a girlfriend, I would probably have a problem with that. Just one of the examples of the pretty complicated situtations you can get into over here, I guess.

Has anyone in Korea objected to you smoking, for the simple fact that you're a woman? Will/Do you care?

Yes. Many, many have. Not only friends, dates and acquaintances, but also strangers on the street. With the people that I know, I basically take a pretty hardline stance about it being something that I do, and that if they have a problem with it, especially if they themselves are a smoker (male), then maybe we just shouldn't even be friends.

Now. With the issue with smoking in public, I have actually shocked myself. I do my best, when out in public, to try to duck around a corner if possible, or not to make it too blatant that I'm smoking, especially in my neighborhood. In fact, I generally just don't smoke out in my neighborhood at all. In Seoul, I'm not that bothered.

The reason for this is that, while I don't really give a fucking toss what a stranger may make of me, it makes me uncomfortable that my students and, more importantly, my students' parents may (and probably will) see me smoking. Which has to do with being a teacher more than being a woman.

I think it's complete bullshit, obviously, that women aren't allowed to smoke and men are. But I, personally, feel a bit compelled to not come across as though I'm kind of rubbing my own cultural values in Korea's face. It would be one thing if I were Korean. But I feel like me being a foreigner complicates things a bit, and it may seem as though I'm being quite arrogant toward the social expectations here if I'm running around like a human chimney, without the slightest regard for the fact that it's considered offensive. I don't know. That's just my own feeling on the issue. And I mean feeling -- not a logical conclusion I've come to. Personally, I feel more comfortable just ducking around corner if I can. And generally, when Koreans see that you're at least standing off to the side, even if not completely out of sight, they accept that. Almost without exception, the only time I've had a stranger confront me about smoking, it's been because I've been doing it while walking down the middle of the sidewalk.

No sleep.

Smalltown and I had a nice little evening last night. I ran out to meet him at the computer shop up the road and had a nice little chat with the two youngish guys inside, who ended up doing a lot of work on Smalltown's laptop and then refusing to take any money for it. After dinner, we went for coffee, and he came back to mine to show me a poem he's been working on, to look at some stuff I've been doing, and to generally hash it over. It's nice to have him back around in some real context, but his girlfriend is just genuinely not having it. I keep suggesting that maybe if she could just get to know me a little better, but Smalltown keeps insisting that she would absolutely refuse, and that it probably wouldn't help.

After he left, it took me about thirty minutes to fall asleep. At about 10 o'clock. Which is why it's now just before 4 am and I'm wide awake, drinking coffee, reading articles on linguistics and poems, and talking to the kid back home. Me and Smalltown are tentatively getting up to something today, although he has no idea what, and I kind of have an inkling (since it's still raining) to just stay in and make a genuine go of things with the new typewriter I managed to grab yesterday (thanks to Chris's excellent suggestion) when me, Whiskey and Smalltown made it out to the excellent Seoul Folk Flea Market.

I guess I'm doing poems again, which is why writing in this blog is suddenly not very easy. My structure is breaking down and fucked up, and moving in straight lines is a little difficult.

Uh. I'll just answer some questions then, and possibly try to get a bit more sleep before the day officially begins.

have you felt significantly healthier since first moving to korea?

I don't know how to answer this question, really. I was a vegetarian back in the States, and I've never been much one for loads of junk food -- I don't really care for sweet things. Since being in Korea, I pretty much only eat Korean food, which is what it is -- healthier in some respects, but also salty and full of white rice, plus things like samgyeopsal, which I don't think anyone can make a fair argument for. I've lost a fucking ton of weight, which has got to mean something, although at times it hasn't been because of me being particularly "healthy". But also, my job went from being based around me sitting down with students to moving around nonstop trying to keep the interest of 30-4o teenage boys for 45 minutes at a time. I don't know.

What is your favourite part about being a teacher in Korea?

Isn't it obvious? The students. Hanging out with them. Hearing everything they have to say. Getting to know all their different personalities. Watching them interact. Having the chance to generally behave like a teenage boy for most of every day and get paid for it. They are Korea for me. And we all know how much I love Korea.

Which program did you do at Glasgow? What kind of grades did you apply with? I want to study there but from what I've read it's really competitive like Edinburgh.

Haha. I'm not really sure where this one came from. Possibly because I reference Glasgow so much. But I never studied or lived in Glasgow -- I've only visited. My best friend from high school, however, is doing her grad program there now, and did a bit of her undergrad as well. And I have a lot of friends there as a result of this. She will be able to answer this question, but I can't. Steph?

Hey, pal! Pray tell, do you keep in touch with ole' Boxochocolates? She vanished and inquiring minds are inquiring. Gracias, .38

I'm afraid I don't actually, no. We never really connected, one on one. She was pretty cool though. Good luck finding her. I wonder if she got the ban, as well?

Having mentioned before that 'cute' is not at all you, will you ever call someone 'oppa'? Assuming it'll mean a lot to him and he means a lot to you.

If I ever call someone oppah, it will not be in "cute" way. I have no motivation to appeal to that side of anyone's desire. They can just find that somewhere else. Even if it means everything in the world to them. If I do call someone oppah, it will be because I genuinely see them in the position of a kind of older brother in my life. Which is quite rare. To me, it's a serious term. I like the Korean family structure that extends throughout -- it's a really appealing part of the culture for me, and I have no desire to make a joke of it. I also have no desire to put my relationship with someone in terms that place me in an endearing younger sister position to him.

I've taken to calling older Korean males, who I don't feel comfortable calling by their first name, "hyeong", after some amount of discussion about my discomfort with the term "oppah". At first, some of them find it really hilarious, but come around to it. And some even make the suggestion first themselves. "Hyeong" has the same sexless connotation as "unni", and is more comfortable to me because of that. It's not that I have a problem kind of looking up to someone -- it's that I have a problem with men getting off on that. When you change to "hyeong", although it's a little awkward at first, it feels like the relationship doesn't take on the jokey, cutesy quality that happens with "oppah", but shifts instead to a more (to me) kind of endearing, genuinely platonic nature. Which I prefer.

Nothing plus more nothing.

Smalltown's a dork. I've gotten literally a dozen phone calls from him throughout the day today about absolutely fuck all, and now he's ended up wandering into a computer store up the street from my place to see about mending his laptop. Now I've got to drag my sorry ass out into the rain to meet him for dinner. His girlfriend's got a job now, and I had completely forgotten what it was like to have him around, unattended.

Yeah yeah I know. Two days without a proper update. I been doing shit. Get off my back. Also, I just don't feel like it. You'll survive. And yeah, I see all the questions I've got. I'll get around to them soon -- promise.

Take care pretty babies.

Sports day!

The artist formerly known as The Student With The Punchable Face took advantage of today's free time to make it clear that we have completely buried the hatchet. He even gave me his ice cream, even after I insisted I wouldn't take it, claiming he was full. I gave him free reign of my camera for the day, which seemed to touch him beyond belief. Most of this is his work. He's in the Jjang crew, and I spent a good half of the day with them, so that's why they're so prominently featured.



The moment it all changed, when Mingyoo suddenly overtook Chanseung who had a huge lead. Which is exactly what happened last year.



They swear running in their socks makes them faster.



The monkey crew. Because they all look like monkeys.


Beautiful eyes.


Dongyoo spraying water.


Dongyoo with face paint reworked into eyeliner and Mingyoo making an absolutely beautiful face.



Byeongki's amazing "elements" shirt, which included smartness, Italian, lucky, time and aura.

"Teacher take a picture of this!"



A terrified first grader posing for photos because the Jjang Crew told him to.


Jjang Crew.



Jjang Crew minus the Jjang.




Classy.



"Teacher we tattoo like Teacher!"



Science. Which is not sports.



Jihyo being an excellent teacher to a first grader.


Modeling Teacher's sunglasses.




Injae, who I nicknamed The Bear, because he's always growling and kind of looks like one. It's stuck, and he's proud of it.



Dumb and Dumber. Again, these names have stuck and they're proud. Don't ask me why.



The infamous Minwoo. Look at those eyes.


Jjang Crew wearing sequined bows (?).



The artist formerly known as The Student With The Punchable Face.


Spot the weoneomin.


Jjang crew. Spot the Jjang.



Doing the Bo Peep Bo Peep dance.



Seokhee giving Jihwan a flag dongchim, a split second before this has set in with Jihwan.


Yeongchan with Dumber.


Less than half of them, if you can believe that.



The cutest student in the world demonstrating how we all felt by the end of the day.

Getting old and ugly in Korea.

If you're (tentatively) planning on teaching here for the longish haul, how do you feel about the Korean premium on youth/attractiveness for their foreign teachers? Aren't you afraid of waking up 35 and undesired by the Korean educational system?

Well, first of all, I've got quite a ways to go before I hit 35. Ten years, to be exact. So it's not exactly a pressing matter.

But no, I'm not really worried about it. I'm not exactly a looker as things stand, and fail on a lot of the supposed "Koreans only want to hire young blonde thin beautiful foreign women" criteria. It hasn't affected me so far. And I should think, if I keep working hard, it really won't. I know plenty of teachers who have much better jobs than I do who are over 35. They've never had an issue.

Now. Once I'm like 60, I might run into some problems. But hopefully by the time I'm 60, I won't have to worry about working anymore.

Question:

I need a typewriter, and I don't think it can wait until August. This is very good news, but.

Suggestions from my esteemed peers?

Past lives.

Well I just did a hell of a job of doing my own head in by going back and reading a load of shit I wrote just before I left New York. That's right, folks. I'm no Picasso had a past blog life, but that shit's all locked up tight now where no one can see, so don't bother looking for it.

It's amazing how ready I was to leave New York, and how much I was mentally preparing myself for it, long before it even happened. I've also forgotten how often bizarre little encounters were just as common (if not, actually, moreso) back in that city.

All the old cast of characters. My dozens of oddball roommates of all shapes and sizes. Dima, the seven foot tall jazz musician -- now, I'd like to find out what he's up to these days. I saw him one night right before I left. He randomly called out of the blue and I went down to see him play in some divey little bar on the proper island. We sat around having a few drinks and then said an awkwardly formal goodbye on the sidewalk outside.

Brendo's still around -- sent him an email last month and got a prompt response about how he's still in the States (swore he wouldn't be, last we talked), still in New York and still avoiding anything resembling a proper life.

And Skinny Whiteboy Poet. I had forgotten how utterly out of hand that entire situation got. Misguided from the beginning and taking a huge turn for the worse after I got shitfaced at "my" (I wasn't actually responsible for it, but my apartment was comandeered) dinner party and screamed at him about being a racist and a classist. For possibly what may have ended up being literally hours. Mike was so fucking hilariously rude to him straight to his face. And he deserved every ounce of it.

How many past lives do I actually have? I tend to leave them there in the past, more often than not, and rarely reflect back on them. But it's odd how, even though it was just a couple of years ago, it seems like a completely different world. Or at least a completely different person.

Well, I'll just live this one for now. Until I start to get that nagging feeling that the next one's about to begin.

OK...I have to say this that I really think you should compile all this and send this to a publishing house. I would def read this. Also do you teach high school kids and can you explain diff btw grade levels in Korea..I thought 3rd grade meant 9yr olds?

That's an absolutely lovely thing to say. But why ship it off to a publishing house when you all can get it here for free? I think, at times, I might should be paying you all to read this drivel. And I like indulging those instances.

I teach middle school. It goes like this: Grade 1-6, elementary school. Then you jump back to grade 1-3 for middle school (includes American 7, 8 and 9) and start over again for high school. So when I say "my third graders", I'm talking about boys who are currently 14-15 years old.

If there's one thing you could change about Korean mentality, (would you?) and what would it be?

Nope. Maybe one of the functions of my personality that's made it easier for me to adjust to things here than some other people is that I generally just don't think like that. Shit is what it is. You take the good with the bad. No if onlys. If onlys only serve to make you miserable, I think. Just like with people, the same characteristic that shows up in negative ways is intrinsically tied to other characteristics that show up in positive. You can't alter a part without altering the whole. So you accept the whole. Even if you can't accept all the details of the whole. And if you can't accept too many details, then you get the fuck away from the whole. Right?

Either you can live with something or you can't. In this life, you can only control yourself. Wishing something other than yourself (a person, a place, a culture) were different is a grade a way to start frustrating yourself unnecessarily. I think.

Bedtime.

Do you admit to letting others push you around? Who's pushing you around now? Who's hitting on you now? Who's the pervert hitting on you now, knuckle-nicks? Has he successfully perverted an ethic? Has he destroyed a doll body?

I love you. And I miss you. And you better be taking care of yourself.

In other news, I saw my first lantern festival parade tonight. Next Friday is Buddha's Birthday, you see. Me and Whiskey Tango Foxtrot made kind of a meandering, clueless day of it. That guy's alright, even if he does think entirely too much about how the world will end. He knows kung fu and shit. (No, I'm serious... he does.) My favorite part of the whole parade was ending up right across the street from a fucking Pizza Hut, so it's in all my photos, ruining the mood. And now, I gotta get my ass to bed so I can tackle three whole days of classes before SPORTS DAY! SPORTS DAY! My favorite. And a three day weekend.

My life is nonstop agony. Obviously.

I'll leave you with a photo of our reflections in the glass around a pagoda (so mysterious!) and some cool old bicycles. Because I love you. That's why.

Getting used to it.

Willie hung out with Mike in Brooklyn tonight. My heart broke a thousand times to think of it, and not to have been there. Thank god we're all at least American, so there's some hope of paths intersecting in the future.

Meanwhile, Smalltown rang me on the way home from the bar tonight. Said he got out there, stepped foot in, took a look around, turned and walked back out. He's decided to join me on the sobriety wagon for a while. Our last little adventure hasn't been setting well in his stomach, either.

It's so weird how fast things change here. Talking to him as he made his way home, I mentioned how last I was out before that night, three months ago, it was a completely different scene. One small pack of other foreigners who we were friendly with, and a few other randoms here and there. Last week, when I stepped into a bar that had been completely dead for months when I last left it, it was overflowing at the brim with foreigners -- more than I've ever seen in one place in our city before. I sniffed the air, as we surveyed the scene: "New arrivals. This time next year, this place will either be back to dead or filled with entirely new faces...."

Revolving doors and stuff. Reminds me of one of my married veteran friends giving me older brother type advice one night on the bus ride home, sensing about me that I might become an old timer like him eventually: "Seems every other week I'm deleting another name from my phone. That's just how shit works here. You'll get used to it eventually."

Huh?

A "big problem"? It's not super convenient or anything, but... oh wait I get it, I'm a bad racist person for finding the language barrier/cultural chasm a complete sexual turn-off. *sulks*

Okay. I don't really get what just happened. What's a big problem? Or not a big problem?

Look. Again. Yet again. I didn't make any judgments about absolutely anyone else is what I posted earlier. I just answered the question (sort of). About myself and from my own perspective.

The question, to be fair, was about sex. It was not about relationships. There is a difference, to me. Quite a large one, in fact. If not being able to hold a lengthy philosophical conversation with someone and come out together, culturally, on the same page on all issues is going to prevent you from bedding someone, then more power to you. You're probably a more noble creature than am I. Me, if I meet someone and suddenly realize we're seeing all eye-to-eye on shit and we've really got some heavy vibing going on, my thought process tends to run more toward, "Holy cow I better not sleep with this person and screw it up." Again, definitely not going to argue that my way is the right one. Especially not on this.

That having been said (and, again, I feel the need to emphasize that I have never been in a committed relationship with a Korean man), while I'm aware of many, many cultural and social issues at play that obviously make Western-Korean couplings more difficult than Western-Western/Korean-Korean, at the end of the day, for me it really does just come down to the individual.

If you put a Western man next to a Korean man and ask me to choose which one I want as a partner, I'm not going to be able to make that decision without knowing more than that one fact about them. I don't know what kind of man that Western man is, what kind of man that Korean man is. I don't know which one has a personality that will jive better with mine, which one has a life perspective and outlook that is most similar (or complimentary) to mine, which one is an asshole or a dumbbell or a royal cockup. I don't know which one is kinder, more gentle.

I don't fucking know. And once I do know all of that, then I can factor in language barriers and cultural issues and see what's what. But not until then. And I've had enough experience with both Korean and Western men in Korea to know that, for me, the Western man doesn't always automatically come out on top. Sometimes I'm willing to trade some of the intricacies of language for a bit more kindness and consideration. Sometimes I'll deal with the awkwardness of being the "foreigner" in the situation because I've met someone who can really, genuinely make me laugh.

To me, there's going to be a certain amount of bullshit encountered in any relationship with any person from any nation on the planet. That's just how it is. And maybe I just haven't had enough experience yet, but to me the cultural bullshit doesn't weight any heavier than all the rest. Because cultural bullshit extends a lot further than just being from the same nation, anyway. I had cultural bullshit to put up with when I was in New York, and surrounded by upper middle class private school kids, whereas I am just about as fucking working class as you can get. Did I feel relieved and instantly comfortable and at home and just lovely when I did encounter someone I jived with who came from a similar background? You betcha. But it didn't put me off absolutely everyone else who wasn't exactly like me.

That's just how I work. I'm sorry if you're having issues because it's not how you work. Or because you haven't yet met a Korean who's worth putting up with and fighting through all the bullshit for. But that's got nothing to do with me. And I know that. And I'm not judging you for it.

Edit: Ooh! A big problem! I get it. Right. Look. I live in the fucking sticks. Not really. But close enough to the sticks. I don't see foreigners ever unless I do it on purpose. I somewhat suspect you may be closer to the city than myself, or perhaps spend more time in it, socializing with foreigners. I'm not exaggerating those stats I quoted earlier. In fact, if I don't go out drinking in the city center, or into Seoul, then I could literally go months on end without encountering a single other foreigner. So yeah. Given that information, and my lifestyle, which runs more akin to staying close to home and hanging out with.... well, Koreans.... it would be quite strange. Because it would mean that I was actually probably avoiding Korean men. Which, again, if that's your thing, for whatever reason, then go on and do it. But I haven't quite gotten to the point where I feel that's necessary yet. Me doing my thing. You doing yours. All gravy. Right? Right.

Formspring Mania: Who the hell is Magnes, does learning Korean make you feel superior, and The Big One.

Why do birds suddenly appear...every time...you are near?

Mom? Is that you?

what happened with that male teacher you used to talk about? the one you worked with and seemed to sort of fend off? i feel like i missed the end (if there was one?) of that series of interactions.

There was not an end. The interactions are ongoing. I just spoke to him five minutes ago, in fact. I just suddenly became very uncomfortable with writing about them.

Is feeling (morally) superior to other foreign teachers a side benefit of studying Korean for you? This isn't really a dig since I have studied and am studying Korean and I find that it allows me a barrier to say "well at least i'm not them (other expats)

Listen. Buddy. I don't think you understand how much I fucking hate studying. I hate it. I fucking hate it. I fucking fucking hate it. You know what else I fucking fucking hate? People who base their actions in life on what makes them feel superior, morally or otherwise, to others.

I don't know how many times I have to say this: I don't give a good goddamn what you're doing. And if I do, it's only with a sense of idle musing. I'm not the type to go out of my way in life to show up somebody else. I'm certainly not going to spend hours doing something I fucking fucking hate just so I can pat myself on the back about it.

Needing to feel superior to other people is, in my opinion, a huge sign of weakness both of character and of actual worth.

Do I think it's odd to meet a foreigner in Korea who has lived here for 5+ years, has half Korean children and can't place an order in a restaurant? Yes I fucking do. Yes, I will fucking raise my eyebrows at that. Other than that, however, you can order in Swahili for all I care. It's got nothing to do with me.

I study Korean because I want to be a competent human being, because I want to be able to communicate with the people around me, and because I want to be taken seriously. Me studying Korean has far, far much more to do with Koreans than with other foreigners. In fact, it has nothing to do with other foreigners at all.

Anyway, what should I feel proud about anyway? Something I've worked at for hours and can still barely do? If anything, studying Korean has made me more humble. That shit is hard and completely humiliating.

Futhermore, if I ever feel the need to say to myself, "at least I'm not them", at any point in my life, I should think I'd be closer to putting a gun in my mouth than anything. "At least I'm not ____" doesn't really sound like a pleasant way to live, if you ask me.

What is the worst thing a student has ever done to/around you? What's the best?

Probably the worst thing a student has ever done to me was when I went out of my way to prepare a big (expensive) (heavy) science experiment for my after school class, and one group in the class not only refused to participate, but also smashed an egg on the table and left it for me to clean up. I felt fucking humiliated, because not only had they been unbearably rude, but they had done so after I had gone out of my way bending over backwards to try to make sure they enjoyed in the class. I felt like a fucking fool, to be honest. I don't give many people the opportunity to spit in my face like that.

I am still teaching those students now, and they are sort of unendingly ashamed of what they did, back when they didn't know me as well. They are some of my best behaved, most respectful and responsive students now. We just got off on the wrong foot somehow. Of course, I've forgiven it. They're kids -- they make mistakes.

The best thing is.... how can I even choose? I could tell you the best thing today, or maybe this week. But the times when I feel the most tenderness toward my students is when I'm feeling sick or down about something, and they pick up on it right away. When they notice that something's off and I'm not at my best, for whatever reason, they never fail to pull it together and act like model students for the entire day, shouting down anyone who begins to conduct the slightest bit of nonsense for giving the teacher a hard time when she's not feeling well. To me, that's humanity at its finest -- sensing weakness in another human being and, instead of using it to your advantage, going out of your way to cover over and care for it.

I don't want to go to my last class today. Should I throw up on the floor of the teacher's room?

I mean, it's an idea. Haha. Do you have your absolute worst class ever on the planet last period on Friday as well? How the hell does that always happen?

What's your favorite "unintentionally sounds dirty" quote from your students? I always enjoy "I had so much homework. It made me hard."

Oh god I think I'm just honestly immune to it at this point. These days, I'm too busy being shocked by what I can hear and understand them saying on purpose in Korean. I did have a first grader tell me that he "wants" me just now. I think that was on purpose as well, though.

I'm more touched by the small strange kind things they can come out with at times. The other day I was walking home, when a group of second graders shouted after me, "Teacher beautiful fashion!" For some reason, 'beautiful' there made me do a big grin all the way home.

I admire you. No, really. I do. So thanks for your blog, because I'm able to wrap my head around a lot more and say "fuck it" a lot easier.

You know, I don't actually know what this means. Sometimes you have to say, "fuck it". I say it about 20 times on a daily basis.

You guys sometimes don't seem to realize that I'm not having a big ol' lollipops and roses time of life here in Korea. That's not my character. At all. I have my daily struggles just like everyone else. I even write about them here almost endlessly. I think sometimes you guys just miss them because they are categorized by the individual instead of being addressed to Korea, Koreans, Korean schools, Korean students, Korean this that and the fucking other. Because that's just not how I see shit. I guess I'll keep getting calls to apologize for that, but I'm not going to. Ever.

What ever happened to Mike? Do you spell talk too him?
Who, or what, is this Magnes you keep speaking of? A ghost? A myth? A legend?

Okay. The first of these was a genuine question and the second is obviously Mike doing a little attention seeking. Hello, Magnes.

Mike, Magnes, Mags, The Magpie, Comrade.... the list of names I've got for him goes on and on. Mike is a... person I met during my second year at university. He's two years older than me, and was one year ahead of me in my program, due to what I'm given to understand was a series of fourteen previous schools Mike had decided were all unfit for him. Why in the hell he eventually settled on ours, out of all of them, I have no idea. I think he just gave up. But anyway, there he was.

I met Mike because literally all of my girl friends at university were fighting over him. Plus a few other random girls apparently were as well. I don't know. Actually, I met him about six months before that, but we didn't actually start talking until then, which is a whole other story. Anyway. I, of course, being me, scoffed to the high heavens about what the hell made this guy so special anyway? Funny, that. Because out of that entire group of what became quite claustrophobically close friends, Mike and I are the only two who are still really truly in tact.

Mike and I just jive. I don't know. We have dead similar senses of humor, and we compliment each other well. He's a fucking depressing storm cloud of a man 99% of the time -- the 99% when I can hold it together and soldier on on my own steam. The other one percent, where I just can't fucking do it anymore, and I'm ready to just sit down and cry -- that's the one percent where Magnes suddenly comes lurking out of his dark shadows and says something fantastically fantastic which causes me to laugh and grasp the absurdity of whatever situation I'm in and come back around to getting a fucking grip. That's why I love Magnes, and always will. Because I can't stand fucking chirpy ass people, but it's also a rare person I've met who knows how to properly handle me once I've decided a situation is just dire.

That's why coming to Korea with him was great. And I don't think I'll ever be as close to anyone as I am to him in a certain way because of those nine months that we spent together, going through a whole lot of shit. In the ninth month, however, for a lot of various reasons, Mike decided it was best if he returned to New York. And return, he did. He's now planning on going to Portland for grad school, and we are still definitely in touch (basically every day) and I still get the feeling we'll end up in the same place again someday.

Mike is also a fucking brilliant writer and you'll all be able to grab his shit off a shelf in your local bookstore someday, so just be patient. I promise you it will happen.


Now. The grand finale. The one that absolutely slayed me before I had even managed to choke down a full cup of coffee this morning. Here we go:

have you had sex with a korean man since being in korea?

I mean. What kind of question is this? Really? First of all.... no. Not first of all. Wait. I still can't seem to get it together on this one.

Okay. Let's be logical here. Assuming I'm not gay (and I'm not saying that I'm not), and assuming that I'm not abstinent (and I'm not saying that I'm not), wouldn't it be fairly obvious that, assuming these things, which I'm not saying are certain either way, probably mean that there was a big problem if the answer to this question is 'no'?

I encounter about a thousand Korean men a day. I encounter about five foreign men a week. If I go out drinking or into Seoul. If I don't go out drinking or into Seoul, I encounter maybe one. In a week. So. I mean, I would have to be going pretty out of my way, if I were sexually active, to be sexually active with only foreign men. Would I not?

But the thing that really stumps me about this question is not that the answer, in my opinion, should be fairly obvious, but rather it's trying to imagine why on earth someone would ask it. Who did this question come from? And under what preconcieved notions? And why ask me specifically? One would think that there are quite enough blogs out there at the moment about Western women getting it on with Korean men to satiate the curiosity of anyone who may be wondering about that subject matter. So why me? Would it change your opinion of me or what I write if I were to give one answer or the other? Or are you just, simply, curious?

It just goes back to one of the number one questions I've been asked, by fucking EVERYONE, since I've come to Korea (but, actually, primarly Korean men and Western women -- not very often Korean women or Western men) is, "Do you like Korean men?"

Do you know what my answer to that is, has been, and always will be?

I like men. And Korean men are men, are they not? Then what else do I need to say?

Is it not that simple? Well. I think that it is.

Friday Formspring.

Um. Haha. I've got some real doosies setting in my inbox this morning. But they're not quite enough to make a full entry off of. Plus I'm feeling rather blue today and would like some internet people to pay me some attention so I can feel better about myself. Because, as we've already covered this week, I'm even more boring in person than on the internet, so I don't have enough real life friends. So, if you all wanna hit that little box to the right there and give me enough to feel justified in responding to what I just keeled over in my kitchen laughing about, then please do so, and I'll spend one of my eye-gougingly boring off periods today indulging you all. Given the nature of one of the questions, the fact that this blog is not anonymous, and the fact that my mother and various other family members read this blog, if you wanna see that kind of thing here, you're going to have to work for it. So. Go! Do it! Don't make me bust out the Teacher Voice.

Good advice.

Oh man oh man.

Haecheol is an A level student who I call "애교왕" -- aegyo king, because literally everything he does is infused with aegyo (see this video if you don't know what aegyo is -- Hyunjoong loses a bet and has to do an act of aegyo -- basically, an exaggerated version of acting cute). At first, I thought he just spoke to me the way he does because he's trying to simplfy his Korean so I can understand. Then, I realized he talks to everyone that way.

This week he suddenly took to shouting out listen-and-repeat at the top of his fucking lungs. He did it during my class on Monday. This afternoon, he was in the office writing out an apology and I asked him what for. Shouting in class.

"More shouting?"

"조-금."

"A little more shouting?"

"조-금 많-이."

Another student, whose name I haven't bothered to learn, because I'm still not convinced that I like him, was in a fucking foul mood because he's in B level class and he's not pleased at all with the teacher change.

I used to refer to this student as The Student With The Punchable Face. Because I fucking hated him. Then, at the end of last year, while we were doing movie class after finals, I looked over to the back corner just in time to see him spit a gigantic wad of gum up into the air, which then landed stupidly in his hair. I got so genuinely red-faced, bent over, not breathing cracked up at this, drawing the entire class's attention to it, that he was genuinely embarrassed, and seemed to have to call a truce with me afterward.

This year, he's not been half bad. But like I said, I'm still on the fence. He called me over today to consult with me and make his complaint known. "TEACHER. TEACHER CHANGEE. WHY?"

"I don't know, kiddo."

"I am not happy!"

"I know, buddy."

"I want Kang Teacher!"

I nodded.

"Oh very not happy! Why change?"

"I don't know."

He stared at my face and seemed to be contemplating something deeply for a moment.

"Teacher have boyfriend?"

"What? Where did that come from, suddenly?"

"Teacher have boyfriend?"

"No."

"Teacher like Korean man?"

"What?! I don't... "

"Teacher no like Korean man?"

"I didn't... just play the game. Here. Give me the cards. Teacher dealer."

One of my favorite students in the same class (a bad one, of course) was in a funny mood today. He had his head down during the listen-and-repeat before we could start the game, and we got a big old guffaw out of everyone when I went over while doing the drills and lifted him up by the neck, raising his arms over his head and moving them for him, enthusiastically, while he rested there limply like my marionette. Once I got them all set up with the game and made sure they were at least attempting some part of the English in the process, I noticed he was still brooding, so went over and sat next to him.

"What's wrong with you today, huh? You're in a funny mood."

"Teacher I'm tired."

"Why are you so tired, huh? What did you do last night?"

"I sleeping."

"No. I think you didn't sleep. Oh. I'm tired today too, though. The mood is bad this afternoon. I wonder why."

He slumped over in his desk toward me and just shook his head.

"What should I do? I have two more classes after this, and then another appointment. But I'm too tired. Give me advice." (Our last chapter was on advice vocabulary.)

"Oh Teacher. I'm very tired, I.... run away. Teacher 그냥.... run away."

I thought about that for a second. It seemed like valid advice to me.

So I fucking did.

Not from school, obviously. Those days are long behind me. But from the artist formerly known as the terrible teacher, who still can't manage to grasp the concept that I can use chopsticks and read Korean. Which I just can't deal with today.

So now I'm home! Wahey! Very good advice, indeed.

Shiny eyes.

Today we had some hysteria in the EOZ, as the big main doors had some how come loose from their fixtures and were swinging back closed after each student passed through them, which was fine, except that there is no door handle, so you have to reach up to the very top and pull them open from there. The third graders, being horrendous gangly giants one and all, had no issues with this. Our squeaky little first graders were a different story, however. Encountering a veritable mob of them, about waist-high, as I came up the stairs, I parted them like an ocean and moved through to grab the top of the door and swing it open for them to flow through. After I did so, one particularly dedicated group attempted to lock the door back in place. I told them simply that it wasn't working, and went on down the hall to my office to go about my business.

A few minutes later, I walked out into the hall to find Old Co reaching for the door handle: "Liz! Did you speak Korean to the students?!"

"No...."

"They came running in to tell me that you spoke Korean.... are you sure you didn't say something?"

I thought to myself for a moment, and then realized that when I told the door was broken, I had done so in Korean (simply, "안되요").

Man. I forgot what it was like to be able to impress students with something as simple as that. My third graders now spend a good portion of the time I spend walking around while they're doing exercises begging me to say something in Korean, because it's "cute" (which I never indulge), and aren't really impressed with it beyond that, anymore.

In other terrible, horrible, no good, very bad news, in a last ditch effort to keep the private school teacher on board (despite the fact that Co is completely for letting her go -- the VP doesn't want it to happen), she's been handed the B level classes. Which she thinks is going to make all the difference in the world, because she still hasn't woken up and realized that it's not the C level students that are the problem. So. Now the B level classes have been extended to contain nearly 40 students each (twice as many as she had in each class before), including some of the students with the worst behavior, moved up from C in the shift, and now she's running them.

She's came singing into the office all day today about how much brighter, more attentive and better behaved the B level students are, apparently not realizing that it's their first day with her as a teacher, and they haven't sussed what a total mess she is yet. Each time it happened, Co would shoot me a stealthy look over the top of her computer screen and roll her eyes. Co has completely come clean with me about her feelings on the issue of this teacher since I've tacitly allowed it to be sensed, without any actual verbal smack-talking, that I'm generally on the same page as her. We both know doom and total destruction are imminent. I give it two, maybe three weeks before she's got a mess on her hands the size of something she was only able to barely taste with the C level classes. And lucky me, I get to deal with it first hand.

Some trouble has already begun in the class I taught with her today, where a couple of the nastiest little buggers who had her before have moved up. Minseok and Hangjin. They're not terrible students when in the hands of a capable teacher, but they've become a dual powered nightmare with this teacher, and I finally had to get tough with them today, because I'm officially no longer amused. After putting them both in the back with their arms up, and allowing them to sit back down, I turned around from helping a student with an assignment to run smack into Minseok, who was apparently making the classroom into his personal living room, wandering around chatting here and there. Fucking. No. Not acceptable.

I grabbed him lightly, but firmly, by both wrists, and he started to laugh and squirm in a manner which I've generally accepted out of him up until this point. This time my grasp just got tighter, though, and my tone lowered. "Look at my eyes, Minseok."

He made a noble and laughing attempt, but recoiled immediately once he had managed it.

"Hey. I said look at my eyes. Minseok..."

He tried again, but honestly couldn't manage it.

"What's wrong with you? Look at me. I want to talk to you."

"Oh... Teacher.... I'm sorry. I can't." He was genuinely uncomfortable, and his usual this-is-all-really-hilarious manner had fallen away.

"What? What's wrong with you, suddenly?"

"Oh. Teacher. Eyes no see. Teacher eyes shiny. Oh."

"... What are you talking about? Look at me."

He tried one last time. "Teacher.... Teacher eyes shiny. No see. Very shiny. No see."

"... Hey. Just stop. Okay? Before, funny. Now, not funny. Too much. Understand?"

"예."

Well. I don't know what "shiny" is supposed to mean. But I'll take it as a good sign that he wasn't able to look at my eyes -- they're not supposed to, when they're in trouble, unless they're being particularly brazen. He better wise up, or he's got a whole new level of shiny coming at him. Because I'm going to have enough nonsense to deal with, with these humongous classes pissed off that they've lost a genuinely good teacher in favor of this other mess, with out his and Hangjin's little shenaningans.

Death, terror, dishonor and destruction. I'm foretelling it now, chums. Mark my fucking words.

How do you and Korea get along?

You're direct, straightforward and like your space. How do you and Korea jive so well considering it's the exact opposite? Great blog, btw! It's definitely *not* boring!

Oh, really. Don't worry about the boring thing. It doesn't bother me to think that people might find me boring. I'm not a shuddering shell of an insecure person -- I'm quite happy to let people go their own way, while I go along on mine. I do think it's odd, however, that of all the boring blogs in the world, someone would feel the need to make that specifically known. One might (possibly) assume that perhaps the intent was not so much a deafening cry out into the ether caused by a boredom so thick that it couldn't help but be expressed, so much as possibly an attempt to knock me down a few rungs. Possibly (possibly) because I may have had an easier time adjusting to life and work in Korea, which might serve as unpleasant evidence to those who have not had quite such an easy time that perhaps their inability to adjust is more about them than about Korea. Just thinking hypothetically, here. And based on the complaints I usually get out of people, which tend to run along the lines of, "You're good at things in Korea! Fucking good for you! You're obviously a social pariah who has an uncontrollable tendency to rub your good fortune in everyone else's faces! Waaah!" Or something to that effect. Well. Sorry.

Don't feel bad, anyway. It's not about you -- Korea really is that awful. I'm just impossibly good at absolutely everything I do, and capable of charming absolutely everyone around me. You've not done anything wrong -- it's just that I'm that incredibly right.

There. Don't you feel better now?

Seriously, though. It's fine. I'm a big ol' bore and I'm not upset about that. To be honest, I'm more comfortable with the boring comment than I was with that crazy sexy thing earlier this week. The boring thing is at least closer to the truth. And less creepy.

So. Speaking of boring, though. Actually, this is nice.

I'm direct, straightforward and I like my space. All of these things are true. Korea is known for the exact opposite of these things. This is also true. So how are we so seemingly madly in love with each other, even after all this time? Easy enough:

Opposites attract. Not complete opposites, obviously. But I think to think of it as more of "salt and pepper" situation -- we compliment each other. Or at least, Korea compliments me.

I'm a calm, cooly rational person who, for the most part, speaks sparsely and directly. I like to do things efficiently, but not in a hurry. I, personally, am a pretty ordered individual. Which is possibly why every person I've been magnetically drawn to in my lifetime has been a hot fucking mess, or well on their way to becoming one. Which is why I've had myself on a big long punishment/hiatus from serious relationships, while I retrain myself to be able to distinguish the difference between "acceptable as a partner/not acceptable as a partner".

However, with places, I don't have to be so careful.

Despite all my big talking about my enormous ego, I actually do find myself to be quite boring. I live with me all the time, 24 hours a day. I understand how I think, how I work. I know myself inside and out. So what in the fuck would I want with more of me? Furthermore, the positive qualities that I have, have come quite naturally to me, so I don't find them to be that remarkable. Whereas qualities that I can't seem to cultivate within myself absolutely captivate me. I'm fascinated with anyone who can do something that I absolutely cannot do, and do it well.

If I were to visit Korea for a week, I'm fairly certain I might size her up as loud, flashy, pushy, commercial, excessively and unnecessarily disordered, nonsensical, frustrating and obnoxious. Lucky for me, I didn't visit Korea for a week -- I moved to Korea. I've had time (and, really, no choice but) to peel back the surface layers, and see what's going on underneath. I've had time to dismiss my initial reservations and hesitance to come into contact with anything that is different, strange and disarming to me, and to allow something entirely separate from myself to become familiar. In short, I've been challenged by Korea. Because it's not the same as me, because I don't naturally understand everything (almost anything) that goes on here. I'm not bored here.

And Korea can teach me, if I let her. I don't need to go to a place that reflects every quality I already appreciate -- I can save that for my retirement. I'm still young and I'm still learning, and I want to find out what all there is out there for me to love. I lived in New York for nearly six years before I came to Korea -- I already knew I loved beautiful architecture, well developed public spaces, street art and a wealth of ethnic diversity. But what else would I find out I loved if I went to a place that didn't have those things (Korea)? I've found out I love a city that's easy to get lost in (as long as I'm not going to an appointment, obviously), a city that demonstrates an almost astounding sense of contrast (hurry up and take the long way around, centuries old palaces setting right next to modish coffee shops). A city that somehow will never feel as lonely as New York sometimes could, no matter how much time I spend alone, because of the smothering nature of the culture.

It all goes back to that night at the hostel in Paris, where me and a 30 year old Japanese architect (the sole Asian in the hostel that night) sat in the kitchen and tried to figure out why it was, exactly, Paris just wasn't doing it for us. I love to quote the line he came out with then, to anyone and everyone who will listen: "I just cannot find the chaos in this city."

Paris bored me to tears, because Paris is all straight streets, quiet sunny afternoon cafes, no garbage on the streets and soft-spoken merchants. Paris is way, way too fucking much like me. Korea, on the other hand, is a hot fucking mess. The crowds and the noise and the fly-by-night urban layout, the neon and the smells, the generations overlapping -- it's a right fucking mess. And it's changing everyday. It's absolutely everything that I'm not. Or that I'd rather not admit to being, anyway. And that's exactly why I love it.