Monday, March 30, 2009

More hiking

Jeff and I went hiking yesterday. We went South starting at the same place that John, Bo and I had started going North. The trail of the first leg was steep and difficult, even for Korea, where there are no switchbacks. It turns out that we went up a section of trail that was closed. Had it been as well marked at the bottom as it was at the top of the mountain we would have hiked elsewhere, but as it was we had a nice peaceful hike without seeing anyone for the first hour.
Near the top there was a view of Banseok, the neighborhood where I work. Well, it would be view if not for the smog.On the top of our second peak a nice woman gave us what I have come to call citrus grapes; they look like mini oranges but you eat the skins and spit out the seeds, just like large grapes. She also took our picture.
On the next peak people had made a huge pile of precariously balanced rocks.
A little ways later there was a wonderful viewpoint of the entire loop that we had just hiked.
All along the trail were bushes with lots of little purple flowers.
And at the bottom of the trail was a bench shaped like an apple core.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Street Spirit

This is a fairly typical street at night in any of the districts that have night lives, of which there are about three in Daejeon. These areas are so brightly lit that you can walk out of a club at three a.m. and think that the sun is setting (or rising).

Saturday, March 28, 2009

The apartment

I realize that I never actually documented my apartment and surroundings like I promised I would months ago. Well, here's the apartment. The bedroom/living room is itself larger than some of the apartments of my fellow teachers. There is a washing machine behind the blue sheet.

The kitchen isn't bad, but notice that there is only a stovetop, no oven. Oh well. I don't know where this sign came from, but it's far too amusing to remove. Actually, I haven't taken down any of the apartment's decorations, and the only decoration I've added is the lotus lantern.
Most showers here are like mine: simply attached to the sink. The bathroom has a drain in the floor.

Of birthdays blood and invertbrates

I have had some very Korean experiences this last week, and they didn't seem all that unusual to me, so I must be getting pretty used to this place.

My school celebrates the birthdays of the kindergarteners once every two months, and I have now been to two such birthday parties. We take all six classes of kids across the street to an indoor playground and let them run around in the McDonalds-esque play place. The birthday children dress as princesses or princes. The weird part is that the 'princesses' often look more like brides, complete with veils. We take pictures with them by class, but other than that they are free to run around like lunatics. I usually spend the whole time lifting children into the air, which they of course love. The most Korean aspect of this experience is that it all took place on the fourth floor of the building. In Korea things like driving ranges and playgrounds are up on top of buildings instead of being at ground level.

After the birthday party I had one class to teach. In that class two of the children--including one of the birth girls--almost simultaneously got pretty serious nose bleeds. My school at least isn't as concerned about blood as an American school would be. Blood is immediately and thoroughly sanitized where I am from. Not so much here. There has been a lot of blood in my classes this week. Earlier I was on one knee trying to comfort a girl who was crying for no discernible reason and one of her classmates was tearing around the room at full speed and tripped over my leg. He went face-first into the ground and bit his tongue. Hmmm.... let's not dwell too much on the level of blood and tears in my classes...

Last night John Will and I went to a Korean restaurant and ordered dumplings. What showed up at our table was a boiling stew of many kinds of mushrooms and many more kinds of whole seafood, including a nine inch long octopus, a conch-looking shell with a slug-like creature inside, and shrimp complete with legs and head. (I forget that I should bring my camera to ordinary things like eating dinner or I'd have some great pics for you.) It turns out there were noodles and dumplings underneath all of that, and the dumplings were absolutely delicious. Actually it was all good, even the weird conch-looking thing. I have found that I actually rather like octopus, which is in many Korean dishes. I feel like the fact that I no longer even find it notable to be eating tentacles is exactly the sort of thing that would be noteworthy to you. Oh, did I tell you that a couple weeks ago I at a ray? It was far to small to be a sting ray, much less a manta ray, but it was clearly of the ray family. It was pretty tasty but I wouldn't recommend it because it has so many tiny pieces of cartilage that it is incredibly difficult to eat the actual meat. A lot of restaurants have tanks of fish, crab octopus, squid, and rays outside their doors, the way Western restaurants have lobster tanks up front. In fact, even the chain grocery stores have tanks like that and will boil the seafood for you on the spot.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Quote of the week

"Landon teacher sexy!"

I have to say, I find being called sexy by six year olds to be fairly disturbing. In class I was tired due to illness, so I sat back in a chair and crossed an ankle over the other knee. The child quoted above imitated and exaggerated the posture and pretended to smoke a cigarette and repeatedly said "Sexy! Landon teacher sexy!" and laughed. I have no idea if they understood what the term means, but it was a rather uncomfortable class period.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

In NE Asia, missing SE Portland

The warm weather is making me homesick for spring and summer activities of yore. I miss eating lunches in the quad, jumping the fence of the rhodie garden at night, walking under the cherry blossoms in Eliot circle, seeing the cuttings I planted all winter come to life in the canyon, playing bachi ball with rocks in Berkeley park, walking to the fruit stand, hanging out on the front lawn, picking blackberries in the stream of Johnson Tidewater park, etc. Most of all, I miss the people with whom I used to do those things.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Stop making dinosaurs less like dragons!

This should not be the headline I wake up to: "Dinosaurs may have been more fuzzy than previously thought." Dinosaurs should be awesome, as in the 'filled with awe' awesome one feels in the shadow of a sequoia or when looking at the acropolis at sunset, not the awesome declared by a genetically altered turtle trained in the martial arts after he eats a slice of pizza. Dinosaurs should inspire fear and feeling that we are small and insignificant compared to these beasts that ruled the earth for millions of years. They should not invoke the same reaction as a pile of kittens. Normally I am a big defender of believing what is in accordance with the evidence even if you don't like it (I in fact rather destroyed my past life and past self because of this principle), but since I no longer believe in evidence or truth: Dinosaurs are mighty scaled monsters that are the closest thing we have to dragons; they are emphatically not cute.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Second best Bushim ever

George W. Bush, on his yet-to-be written memoir [emphasis added]:

"I'm going to put people in my place, so when the history of this administration is written at least there's an authoritarian voice saying exactly what happened."
(hat tip TPM)

Bush rarely says what he means to say, but his verbal missteps are the times his words are closest to the truth. Our first president to also unquestionalby be a war criminal and who arguably increased executive power more than any other president (with help, obviously) here admits to his political leanings. The most accurate, and in my view best, Bushim remains "They misunderestimated me."

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Socialized medicine is awesome

I have been rather ill this week. In fact, I went home early today with a fever, lightheadedness, sinus headache etc. Before I left though, I took a quick trip to the doctor's office, and I do mean quick. My manager and I were only gone from our building for fifteen minutes. In that time I went to a doctor on our block, saw him without an appointment and without any wait at all, got a shot in the ass (apparently a standard treatment for colds here. I don't ask questions), received a prescription, went downstairs to the pharmacy, and picked up the medicine without any wait. The doctor's appointment cost me 4,ooo won (~$3.oo) and the prescription drugs cost me 1,800 won (~$1.50). It was amazing. I don't know if the quality of care suffers for this, but structurally it was fantastic. Everyone in South Korea has medical insurance, which is way better money-wise than any medical insurance in the states and the coverage is far more comprehensive. Here's hoping the US is on it's way to that system by the time I get back there.

Affordable health care changes one's entire attitude about being sick. If I had felt this way in the states there's no way I would have gone to a doctor. The last time I was sick in the US I might have had strep and really should have gone to a doctor, but even though I had health insurance it would have cost me a not inconsiderable amount of money (for me at the time) and it would have eaten up an entire day and a lot of patience. Convenient, affordable health care: we should try it.

Update: I don't know what they injected into my ass, but it seems to have been pretty effective because I feel a lot better. Convenient, affordable, and effective: three words I would not remotely apply to the US health care system.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Black and White

We all know that February 14th is Valentine's Day. Here, Valentine's Day is basically split into three parts, each a month apart. On actual Valentine's Day girls and women give chocolate to boys and men. Today, March 14th, is White Day, where boys give candy to girls. I have been told that this separation is a ploy for candy makers to make more money, similar to how Grandparent's Day was invented in the US to sell more greetings cards. Finally, April 14th is Black Day. On black day everyone who didn't get candy or chocolate (i.e. didn't have a date) on Valentine's Day or White Day goes out to restaurants and and eats black noodles together. I'm not sure if the tone is 'we were rejected last holiday, we should hook up now' or if it is commiseration, or some combination, or something else entirely. I'll try to figure it out and let you know next month. I can't find any explanation of this day's existence, and it strikes me as truly bizarre, to the point where I almost think that the people who told me about it made it up in order to screw with the foreigners. I can imagine eating a table over from someone who happened to be eating black noodles on April fourteenth (black noodles are a pretty common food) and trying to share commiserating looks with them and having them be completely confused and mildly creeped out by the foreigner who keeps looking at them sympathetically.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Quote of the week (depressing version)

For this last week's quote I have selected an essay that my highest level kids had to write as part of a test. The topic was vegetarianism, and one student had this to say: "I don't like do different people", which is hilarious, but I'm pretty sure she meant "I don't like to do things differently than other people" because the next sentence is "when we're diffrent people see the different. Then we can don't have any friends. We can't have make friends time with eat meat. So I really hate being a vegetarian." That was the rough draft. The final version read "I don't like to change different person. When we change special person, people see we diffrent. So we can don't have any friend." One of the reasons I went to Asia was to try to be less individualistic, but judging by my reaction to this essay it will be a long slow struggle.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Why I haven't updated this blog this week

This week has been a definite test of my attempts to be happy regardless of my circumstances. My late nights out sending off Bo have resulted in some slight illness, meaning that I have been sick more often in my two months in Korea than in my five years in Portland. Being my usual in-touch-with-my-physical-needs self, I of course stayed up all night on Tuesday for Bo's last night in the country. My favorite part of the evening was eating one last bowl of late night ramyen on the roof of our apartment at 3am, looking out over the sea of apartment complexes and neon red crosses. The roof of our building, like the rest of it, is made entirely of cement and is pretty large, so I am considering throwing a huge barbecue there in the summer with a bonfire right on the cement roof.

Wednesday morning was rather rough. Apparently Lindsay had received a phone call from our manager at 2:30 am to tell her that Bo's replacement Will had not made it on the plane because of a 'chemical problem', which lead us to speculate about attempts to smuggle drugs into the country, but really she meant that there was a mechanical problem with the plane. Our manager really had no idea what was going on and made Lindsay figure it out (which is not exactly part of her job, especially at 2:30am on a Tuesday night), making us wonder why the hell she hung up with Will before figuring it out and shoving the problem onto Lindsay. We were already planning to cover the classes so that Will could actually get some training before being thrown into the deep, but the plane issues caused more confusion in the office. Really, they ought to have flown out Will early enough that he could be trained by Bo before Bo left, but they didn't take Bo's written notice six weeks in advance seriously (they thought they could talk him into staying for longer, and counted on that even though he told them that he already had a job lined up in the States that started two days after he got home). The office was already unspeakably hectic because it was the first day of the new school year. You may be thinking that starting a new school year on a Wednesday that is not preceded by a break of any kind is not the wisest decision, and you would be correct. In fact, the whole thing seemed to catch everyone responsible for books and classroom assignments and things completely off-guard, which is odd since it happens every fucking year (I swear some people there are simply incapable of thinking more than a few days in advance). I came early to try to prepare for my classes, but I was unable to do so because many of my classes did not yet have their books. The vocabulary class, in which I didn't even know what page we were on before class started, was ok, but frustrating because I couldn't really get the concepts into their little minds. I now teach the science classes for the kindergarten, and while the books and projects were actually there, they had not been removed from their boxes, much less distributed to the proper classes. I had to spend my time trying to make someone tell me which classes were taught which level of science, and so I had no time to make the teacher's example project. As I put the project together in class I found that it didn't work at all. In fact, even later (before teaching the same thing to two other classes) I could not make it do anything, much less what it what was vaguely stated it would do. By the way, I was never offered any training or explanation of these classes: I of my own initiative shadowed Bo as he taught some of them earlier in the week. Further, the class levels that I managed to drag out of the Korean teachers were inaccurate for one class, so on Friday I ended up teaching the highest level of science to the new babies that can't speak any English. Things were far too chaotic to find the first level science books and kits, and the project didn't work anyway, so I figured if it was ok to waste the time of the older kids on something that doesn't work then it was ok to waste the time of the younger ones too.

Most of my afternoon classes were continuations of classes that I had last month and while their books were new they were actually there for the most part. The exception was a class on tiny children who know absolutely no English. I spend the period naming them and trying to get them to understand that those were their names. We made name tags, and in the process of them cutting out the nametags (not my idea to give them scissors, for the record) one of the students cut off a chunk of his neighbor's hair (I found out later; I was across the room helping someone else) and the neighbor went ballistic, bawling and pulling the first kid's hair. Of course one could explain what happened since they don't know English. I sent the one kid who already had an English name to go get another teacher since if I wasn't between the two kids the haircut-ee would pull the hair of the haircutter. I did manage to get them all named by the end of class (which was already supposed to be done since my co-teacher for the class had them first and told me that they would all be wearing nametags when I came in, but the didn't understand her [even though she speaks Korean?!] so it fell to me) and even managed to get them to write their names in their workbooks. Fun times. Other interesting parts of the afternoon were that whoever organized (and I use the term loosely) the schedule and classroom assignments did not take into account factors such as numbers of students and numbers of desks and chairs in the room or that the classes that have video tapes as part of the curriculum should be in one of the rooms with TVs instead of leaving those rooms empty. Oh, and about those videos: the videos and the cassettes for a book made by CNN are in a cabinet, which is locked. I told them before that it is locked, and after spending my free period trying to my academic supervisor she finally told me that they don't know where the keys are and she seems unconcerned (and she won't let me break it, which by that last class on Wednesday I was about ready to do with permission or not. Obviously I am not yet a Zen master who can be happy regardless of circumstances. It is a difficult balance to not care to the extent that I can be fine when my managers will not allow me to be prepared to teach, but also to care enough that I can be prepared when it is possible). I ended up reading the script instead, which was fun since I haven't had a voice all week due to my cold. After my classes I spent an hour doing evaluations, which were conveniently due on Thursday, and then I went downstairs to The West Wing and ordered a hamburger steak. I've been saving Western food for a bad day, and spent the latter half of my week going downstairs between classes for pastries, skittles, and ice cream (there is also a Baskin Robbins in my building). As I walked home after dinner I saw hundreds of high school students, who were apparently just getting out of school at 10pm. The students and I walked past a man in a suit so drunk that he was lying facedown on a cement pylon puking his guts out. No one but me batted an eye, making me wonder about the home lives of the kids (we read a lot of journal entries about how dad smells like soju [like vodka but worse tasting, I've heard]. There was one Jeff saw this week that nonchalantly talked about how the kid's aunt and mom got so drunk they vomited).

On Thursday I taught arts and crafts, where the students also didn't have books, but I could just hand them 11"x17" sheets of paper and colored pencils, so that was fine. After art on Wednesday I taught two forty minutes of a class called 'theme' which focuses on one topic for a month. I had already tried to talk several teachers into letting me skip ahead in the book because I am teaching the class to one of my smarter classes that is pretty far along in English, and the first month-long chapter is all about teaching tiny children who know no English what their names are. The teacher in charge of kindergarten told me that we couldn't skip ahead because the parents would see blank pages in the book and complain. This class could easily do the first month's work in the eighty minutes I was with them on Thursday but for some reason that wasn't acceptable either. The parents and managers here are far far more concerned with the appearance of learning than actual learning, and it rather turns my stomach. In the afternoon I was already so used to the chaos that it was fine that the kids in my highest level class had different books than what I was told. They are actually a fantastic class, smart and willing to participate, and I'm looking forward to teaching them. After classes I sat in the office with a box of tissues doing evaluations when Lindsay asked to have one of the classes that she had subbed for and which she had asked for earlier too. She was told that our manager wanted the girl teachers to teach the younger students and the boy teachers to teach the upper level students. This wasn't implied, it was flat out stated, and stated without euphemism or apology, and wasn't even necessary to say. We've suspected sexist motivations for assignments before, but we didn't even ask if that was the case; the sexist motivations was offered up voluntarily. Lindsay and I looked at each other shook our heads with the realization that some problems are beyond fixing. Afterwards we went to dinner with Lauren and Will got into town and ate with us. He seems like a pretty good guy, thankfully. I don't know if I could have taken this week if the new teacher (and my new nextdoor neighbor) had been an asshole.

Friday was the fun morning of three science classes where I had to first acquire (partially correct) information about which class was at which level and then rush out and teach them. In the process the kindergarten teachers were shocked and flustered to realize that one of the classes had no science classes scheduled, so I will probably be getting a call five minutes before class starts telling me that they have given me a new science class in the morning on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. I had fun trying to round up the correct number of science kits and books for each class by digging them out of the massive box that they were shipped it, and which were separated by class size but improperly labeled so that I had to leave two of the three science classes to go find more. After the kindergarten classes I actually reverted to my usual non-irritated self. I came to accept that the school is massively incompetent and am lowering my standards for myself as a teacher so that I am not disappointed when I am not given the resources to be better.

And that is why you should come to South Korea to teach English with me.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Quote of the week

I've been neglecting the quote of the week in part because no one in my classes has said anything particularly exciting, so I will share some gems heard by other teachers. By far the best is a conversation concerning the kindergarten graduation presentation, which took place on Wednesday. Apparently one class behaved terribly for a parent night a few months ago and Lindsey was telling them to actually behave this time around when one of her students said, "Lindsey teacher, my mom say 'no do good, go to Somalia.'" When pressed for details, she said "Mom says in Somalia I play with the monkeys and live in the hut." Somalia is a hell of a threat, given that it's status as a haven for pirates is due to the complete ineffectiveness of the government. Other fun quotes are from journal entries: "This weekend we went to church and prayed to The God for Jesus' death."

Bonus quotes:
Sometimes my fellow teachers also make amusing statements. Bo is leaving next week, so to see him off we've spent the last few nights up until the cock crows (literally: there is a rooster that lives a block from my apartment which was crowing when we strolled in at six the last two nights, err... ummm... mornings), which leads to some interesting conversations. Last night while we were eating our weekly late night ramyen in a convenience store, Bo commented that "you could live here; there's curry and liquor," which were the first two things he saw.

To understand the beauty of the next quote you need some background on the curriculum we teach. One book is called Write it Write, which teaches the kids some sentences and how to insert different words into the same sentence structure. Some of the example sentences or conversations are truly awful, such as
A: "Let's go eat at an Indian restaurant."
B: "What do they serve there?"
A: "They serve Indian food, such as Indian curry and nan."

This came up as we went out for Indian food, and John thought up the following:
A: "Let's go eat at a Korean restaurant."
B: "What do they serve there?"
A: "They serve Korean food, such as Korean kimchi and dog."

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Seoul

Seoul is actually pronounced as a two syllable word (So-uul), not like the English word 'soul'. And it is absurdly huge. The greater Seoul area has a population almost as large as that of Canada, the second largest country in the world. The city is rather blade-runner-esque, except that there are also old East-Asia style buildings thrown into the mix. I arrived in Seoul on Friday night on the slow train and stayed at the same spa as last time. In the morning I went to Gyeongbokgung, the old imperial palace. On the way I stopped by a park that contained an ancient pagoda and this weird ancient turtle grave marker.

The park also had a nice view of one of the most architecturally interesting buildings I've seen in Korea (although it isn't really my style, it is at least not the usual big rectangle).

In the same neighborhood was a Buddhist monastery that provided another odd contrast with the skyscrapers.

On the way to the palace I also saw more police officers than I had cumulatively seen before in my life. Apparently a protest was planned to take place in front of The Blue House where President Lee Myung-bak lives, and so the police were out in force with full riot gear in preparation.

The actual palace was originally built in the 1300s but was razed in 1592 during the occupation of Japan. It was destroyed by Koreans who were angered by their rulers who abandoned them. The complex was rebuilt in the mid 1800s. The most interesting part of the tour was the politics of living spaces. The king's living area was a building with ten rooms for sleeping. Only the most trusted servants knew where the king was each night, which was a precaution against assassination, at least against assassins who weren't arsonists who would take out the whole building... The queen also had a building, which was essentially her prison. She had a garden outback that let her know what the season was because she wasn't really permitted to leave her house. Also, even portions of that building were limited for her. The Queen's quarters contain a room that was only used when the king came to stay the night (about once a month), and a delivery room in which she gave birth to princes and princesses. Things got significantly better for the queen when her husband died and one of her sons became the king. The queen mother had some actual power, including the power to choose her son's wife and concubines. The concubines had quarters on the far side of the queen's from the king's, which I imagine was rather awkward for the queen to see the king go past her house to get to one of the concubines. The queens knew better to complain, though, since the queen mother demanded that the queen and concubines get along. Also, the queen was ensured of her position as queen mother since even if she bore no male children she would adopt one of the concubine's sons and raise him as her own.

Other cool things at the palace: statues and paintings of animals and dragons, and tripods(!):
Behind the palace are absolutely gorgeous mountains, which would be even better looking without the smog (I've seen smog hanging above cities many times before, but Korea is the first place I've been where the smog is visible even at street level).
Outside the palace was a folk museum that demonstrated old Korean clothes, etc. Outside of it were these fantastic zodiac statues (the one next to me is an ox, in honor of my birth year and this year).
On Sunday I wandered around Insadong, a neighborhood of old-style buildings, antique shops, and this fantastic multi-tiered shopping building.
The stairwells and the rooftop view were particularly noteworthy:
Insadong also contained a restaurant with intriguing menu entries:
While I was there there was also an outdoor concert with drums and a horn that sounded like a dying duck (in the background you can see a building owned by YBM, my company) and a weird promotional thing where people walked around with boxes on their heads (I'm sad that I was too slow retrieving my camera to capture the boxen making out).
This is also a good time to showcase Korean streetfood vendors, who sell things like dried tentacles:
Obviously I only saw a small portion of the monstrously large city, so there will be more on Seoul in the next few months.

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