The Most Kick-Ass Free Day of All Time

So when our Korean teacher informed the class last week of a tour for foreigners, we assumed that a)it was for foreigners, b)it was expensive, and c)every other Korean class knew about it. About five of us signed up, sacrificing the kimchi making seminar and opting for a tour focusing on ancient Korean life. All doubts were soon lain to rest; never have I had such an awesome day and spent only $8.

Though we were initially five, Amina and Zach missed the bus in the morning and had to meet us at stop two. For the first destination we were only three, Alexis, MiSun, and myself. MiSun is a half Korean, half German exchange student who's only staying until the end of the semester. We set out together on the tour bus, bound for the Folk village. On the tour bus we quickly learned that there were no other International students in Korean class like us. Though it was technically a bus of mostly foreigners, those foreigners were about 15 Chinese students. Including the 6 or so real Koreans, the common language on the bus was Korean. In short, we were taken by surprise when asked in Korean to introduce ourselves to the rest of the bus...in Korean. The bus itself was equipped with a microphone, making it more embarrassing (more on the microphone later...).




We swallowed our surprise and fear and braced for a 14 hour day in nothing but Korean. Our first stop on the bus was the folk village, a Renaissance Festival of sorts. Except not imaginary. Or hokey. The village was set up in sections, some from JoSeon and some from Shilla dynasty with a small section dedicated to the large Jeju island off the southern coast of Korea. All employees dressed as though they were from the respective time periods, and there were houses representative of each class and occupation, shows in the traditional manner of old Korea, food available only at the time, and seminars about basket weaving and the like. The complex was huge, intricate, and well thought out. The village provided pamphlets and many signs in English, so we weren't entirely in the dark. The only performance we were able to catch was the tightrope walker, but that was so cool. We tasted many traditional cookies, including one made of honey that was hardened, stretched to the thinness of hair, coated in flour, wrapped in bundles around diced nuts, and chilled. Like ancient cotton candy plus nuts. Delicious.

Oh, by the way: the facial hair has returned temporarily for several reasons. x=My razor is officially worthless, a=I haven't found the energy to buy a new razor, b=I don't want to spend the money, m=male. So, f{H}=x*[(a+b)/m]. The 'H' means hairy.

Our next stop was a bathroom break outside the gates to the president's house. Though I would have really liked to tour the Blue House (named for it's distinctive roof), I had a repeat of the National Assembly tour disappointment. We got a drive by look at the building through some trees.




The real stop was the nearby GyeongBok Palace, the seat of the JoSeon dynasty. This place was so massive that it was impossible not to get lost. The complex consists of 330 buildings, making it the largest of the Five Grand Palaces constructed during the JoSeon era. It was originally built in the late 1300's only to be tore down by Japanese invasion in 1592. After years of neglect, a later JoSeon king returned the palace to it's former glory. Of course, Korea had to watch it be destroyed again in 1910 during the beginning of Japanese colonization. Since the Japanese took no pictures of the palace before they tore it down, scholars have struggled to recreate the all but ten buildings that were left standing in the 50's. The palace may never be restored perfectly, but there are many things about it that were interesting all the same. One of the most impressive things was the royal throne room, the ceiling of which had to have been at least four stories above the ground. On the roof of every building are dragon head statues for protection~every building, that is, except the sleeping chambers of the king and queen, since the king was considered the dragon incarnate. Another interesting building + legend was the Foreign Emissary Entertainment Complex. Lifted up on 16 pillars and in the middle of a lotus flower lake, the building was designated expressly for partying with diplomats. Legend has it that one year, when the lake was drained for cleaning, a statue was discovered at the bottom. After having removed the statue, the kingdom suffered disasters and hardships. After replacing the original with a replica, the disasters subsided.

In the back of the Palace complex, the city has placed the Korean Folk Museum, more of a series of replicas and recreations than an actual museum but still very educational. My personal favorite was the Plow Distribution Chart, which showed different styles of plow and the region of Korea in which it was employed. The museum also had several miniatures of Korean cities, pottery techniques, traditional festivals, and palaces. There were also several small artifacts and paintings, but nothing as impressive as the National Central Museum two days before.




After leaving the palace behind, we went for a traditional meal in InSaDong, the historical district of the city. Naturally, like the lunch that I forgot to mention and the tickets to these locations and the whole bus ride, the meal was free. We left InSaDong and headed for our final destination; the Traditional Art Performance. Sadly there was no photography of any kind allowed in the theatre, but we were able to take pictures of ourselves in ancient Korean garb while waiting for the show. I am a king, Alexis is a queen, and MiSun has on a wedding HanBok. The show started off with a performance by the folk musicians, a sound unlike anything I'd ever heard before. It was more akin to 12 tone Schoenberg modern music than to the sound in Europe during the same time. After that, a woman came out and sang a story (difficult if you don't speak fluent Korean), but the next act made up for everything. Seven women, each with three drums, were positioned on stage. One drum was behind them and the other two were on their left and right, all three tambourine sized and chest level. These women proceeded to bust out this incredible choreographed dance/drum concert for the next ten minutes. How they remembered every complex pattern and move over that long song is beyond me, but not one mistake was made and all seven of them smiled the entire time. These chicks were so awesome. Watch this substitute video I found on youtube:




After them, five guys came out and one-upped the whole thing. Each guy had a percussion instrument and a long ribbon on his hat. These men ribbon danced with their head, played complicated rhythms, and did spinning acrobatic dances all at the same time.




And as for the mysterious microphone on the bus, it just so happened that we were on a karaoke bus. Where there should have been a rear-view mirror there was a flat screen TV, the lights would turn off and rainbow lights would come on, and the microphone would go from normal to echo mode. We sang karaoke on the way back to the school! For free!! How cool was this day!!! I saw and learned so much, and all I paid for was a souvenir piece of calligraphy and the chance to wear the outfit before the folk performance. How did we get so lucky?? I'm still trying to figure it out, but it was hands down the coolest day I've ever spent paying for absolutely nothing!

국립중앙박물관 ~ The National Central Museum

Recently I came into the knowledge that myself and a friend from my Korean language class have all day Thursday off until four o'clock. As part of our recent resolution to stop wasting that day sleeping in, Alexis and I spent last Thursday in the National Central Museum. Currently they are hosting the Louvre, but as we were more interested in Korea (and the Louvre exhibit cost extra dough) you will not see pictures of French paintings.

The Museum featured six wings, only three of which we had time to catch. One wing we skipped was the foreign donation wing, though that is the host to a famous Greek helmet, won by a Korean marathon runner in the early 19th century. We did get to see lots of history, including clothes, paintings, statues, ceramics, incense burners, jewelry, furniture, and those nifty folding screen divider things, all dating back to various of three major dynasties in Korean history over the mast few thousand years.

Thankfully, Alexis brought her Korean boyfriend. With his help we learned a lot about the history in the paintings, Buddhist statues and the meanings behind hand gestures, royalty, history of the language and calligraphy, and specific uses for some of the more strange looking artifacts. Thanks to MinCheol we learned much more than just the art can teach you.

The Buddhist statues were probably the coolest part of the Museum. They were displayed from as small as three inches high to as large as eight feet. Made of gold or stone, they were in various poses and from various dynasties. The change in style of depiction was evident as we passed through the exhibit. We learned the six most common Buddhist statue hand signals and their meanings. There was even a chart showing the variations between Japanese, Chinese, and Korean representations of Buddha.

The comical part of the museum (you didn't think I walked out of there without one cynical thing to say, did you?) were the "National Treasures." When I went South I thought it was kind of cool that every temple or monument I bought a ticket for was labeled with it's National Treasure number. Only after going to the Museum did I discover that Korea has over 1,400 so-called National Treasures. They just dole 'em out, man. Buildings and pots, statues and crowns...they even named to National Treasurdom (my favorite) this group of old women. Something about their genes? I couldn't understand. It's as if anything that was maintained half decent got to be a treasure, immensely devaluing the whole point of the thing. At least now the government can brag to Japan about how many treasures they have.

3 Month Anniversary

Well, it's come and gone so quickly so far. Three months since the big flight o'er the sea. There are things that I miss, and things that I'm tired of. Let's take this quarter bench-mark moment and reflect, shall we?
Things Having Been Pined For:

1. Stories: After two months living with foreigners you sort of give up talking as a means of entertainment and strip it down to the bare essentials: communication. Even after being here near the international community, the best I get is effortless communication. I'm not really in a "story telling crowd." It's gotten so bad that I'd forgotten I used to tell stories will all of my social time. My mind has changed to the point where my experiences aren't automatically sorted into story-worthy and garbage. I've not only lost the habit of story telling but lost the mindset of a story teller. I'll be glad to be back in that environment.
2. Cheese: We just don't have it. Sure, I can go to the largest supermarket in Korea and pick up so pricy ass cheese from the foreign section, but effectively gone are the days of bread and Brie, cheese and crackers, Mac & cheese, cordon bleu, four cheese ravioli, nachos, grilled cheese, cheeseburgers, and cheese fries. It's almost torturous that Koreans have chosen one cheese for their diet: American. Of all the cheeses in the world, American cheese is aplenty. Just my luck.
3. Shoes: Not just shoes either, but pants and sleeves. Nothing here is me-sized. Nothing. So it comes down to my shoes falling apart and no store in Korea with accommodating pedestrian equipper on this continent. Not to mention the high water, 3/4 sleeve problem is ridiculous here. What I came with is what I've got.
4. Dryers. I haven't seen a dryer since I got here. Clothes just don't feel the same air drying.
   

Things Having Been Spurned

1. The Question Set: I know we do it, but it's become so painfully obvious what the American stereotypes here are just by the questions every Korean asks you. "It's not too spicy for you??" every time you eat the heat equivalent of gumbo. "What do you think of Korean girls??" Alright, alright already. Will you just let that one die! Not every white guy is here to find a geisha. "Why would you even be interested in Korea?" Aside from the political hot spot this place is, what about the economic miracle and investment possibility this place poses? No, I'm not in the Army. No, I don't have Korean family.
2. "Couples": The whole couple phenomenon just gets old. Youth culture here is geared around the couple. Meals come in "couple sets," every month has a couple holiday, shoes and shirts come in his and hers pairs, the streets are jammed with waltzing, arm in arm lovers. It's fun to be in a relationship, but the suffocating, mushy, predominant dating culture is too much for even the western girls to handle.
   
3. KimChi: If I never eat KimChi again it'll be too soon. And by too soon I mean three times tomorrow. The "national dish" of fermented cabbage marinated in spice is served at every meal. Yeah, it's cool that now I can tell the difference between different qualities of KimChi, but after three months of cabbage morning, noon, and night I could never eat it again and be satisfied.
4. English: Not the real language, the imitation. Everywhere you look there's poorly translated, misspelled English. Often it makes zero sense. Sounds like it could be funny forever, right? Actually the term limit on that is more like three months. After that, it just gets dull. You can predict the errors, translate the nonsensical adages and quips, even catch yourself making similar errors in your speech. Often I just wish that they would stop trying. In fact, it is not possible to find a shirt with and Korean text on it. I've been here three months and I have to say that they just don't exist. Sad for a tourist, I know. Just another example of how this country is cultural-export-reluctant combined with western obsessed.

It could be worse. Other than these few whims and irritants life here is still awesome. The droll school year is winding down to winter break, when I'll get my snow and some much needed relaxation. I have given up trying to expect where my mindset will settle in the next three months. It's futile. There is no rhyme or reason to how something like this changes a person. You just find yourself standing outside an operation room peering through glass as your old personality gets a full blood transfusion, new kidneys, a pacemaker, bone marrow transplant, and facial reconstructive surgery.

Menu Update

How have I been missing this for all these months! More than three months in Korea now and I have never seen this food! (You think you're really getting to know a place, especially getting to know the menu, but still you find surprises that you've overlooked somehow or were unexpected. I anticipate this sort of mini-shock to occur for the next several months as I discover all the little pieces that I missed while overwhelmed with everything else.)



It looks like watermelon Kool-Ade, but I can assure you it's not. I knew from the start it would not be Kool-Ade, but the mind is a difficult thing to convince. Even though there was a piece of radish floating in it, I still could not get out of my head that anything bright pink must also be sweet and fruity. Of course it was not fruity, and my inane expectations of it made that even harder to swallow. When I spooned it into my mouth I was shocked and not shocked at the same time (weird feeling, trust me) to find the flavor a sort of vinegar sour but not pucker your face strong. Will someone find a word for that? Sour like vinegar but not strong enough to cause facial reaction. If you can't find one, coin one. I am as I was at the time at a loss for words. How can I expect a flavor of something that is both deceivingly colored and indescribable in my own language. Since my first encounter with the pink vinegar I have seen it twice. The Koreans describe this "Ade" as a side dish, as though it were solid and had health benefits. I'm glad I photographed it when I saw it first, because sometimes it's not so violently pink and that would have ruined the image for you, loyal reader.

First Snow

Though it was a little premature, we had flurries last week after an unseasonally cold, rainy, and miserable day. Finally, all the arm in arm Korean girls who just drag there feet down the side walk were running for cover. Dream come true. OUTTA MY WAY!

Fall is nice. Cool, sunny, and the leaves are vibrant. So vibrant, in fact, that it's all these people talk about. I thought it odd when we learned the word for what's best translated as "autumnal tints," or "the color that the leaves change during the fall months." But the amount of times I've heard about how beautiful the DanPung are this year makes me sick. I'll never forget that damn word as long as live. Here are some Seoul Fall shots. Enjoy.

The Deeper Hole I Dig

It seems no matter how hard you try, no matter how many times you swear up, even if you resort to swearing down, the thing you avoid latches on to you. You become more and more indebted to this thing until it controls your life, affords the very air you breathe and floor (quite literally) you sleep on.

I'm speaking again, of course, of how my life has taken not just a turn but a plunge into teaching. I am now currently the jovial proctor of an unsuspecting four students ages six to forty-three. Ever the glutton for punishment, it would seem that one private student and five weeks of 8 hour per day teaching wasn't enough for me. No, I am now teaching a mother and her two children as well. In a way it's good practice for teaching the young children that I'll be handling in January, something I have very little experience with. While I do need the money of added tutoring, this job did not come without extraordinary pressure.

When I first met my new students, it was a week ago Sunday. I went to their home in ApGuJeong (the wealthy portion of the city) and was greeted warmly. Unfortunately, it didn't take me long to realize that none of my three new students were fluent enough for my previous teaching style. The children, 6 and 8, barely knew any English. They new a little grammar and a few words and greetings, but that was all. Their mother, on the other hand, has zero grasp of grammar but knows more vocabulary. In all three cases, it is not an option to teach these people English in English. Some of you by now have already realized that indeed that means I am teaching English in Korean. I, incapable of buying hangers and towels, am teaching in Korean. Needless to say, I was outrageously concerned about the weight of this job.

After meeting and determining schedule I came back that Tuesday (Halloween) for my first session. Every session is three hours long. I have not spoken three hours of consecutive Korean since I stepped off that plane on August 13th, or in my life for that matter. I have never had to think outside English non-stop for more that two hours, and that's in Korean class, mostly reading and listening and little individual production. Teaching means that I do the majority of the production, and unlike a need for bed spread this is not something that I can blunder my way through with out consequences. I am being paid good money for every session so that this woman and her kids learn English. The pressure was enormous.

On assuredly the most terrifying Halloween of my lifetime, I rose to the sixth floor of their apartment, new textbook in tow for the mother, heart pounding.

Each student poses unique challenges and benefits to me. The 8 year-old, their daughter, has had one more year of English than her younger brother. She can read children's books and recognize 85% of the words and is a calm child. She'll sit and focus on what we're working on, but she is shier than a nun in the red light district. Her English voice is mousy at boldest, and she refuses to tell me if she doesn't understand a sentence or a word without my badgering it out of her. Her brother is the exact opposite. Though he's studied less, he's thrilled to shout what English he does know. He's receptive to knew words and phrases, but not to correction. He lacks all focus and discipline. When I first walked in the house, he was jumping about at my legs, and as I spoke to the parents about scheduling he was busy scaling walls or vaulting the ten thousand dollar sofas. The mother is very dedicated to learning. She is not in school, doesn't have a job, and has no defined reason to learn English other than sheer interest. Because she's driven by desire to learn she's a very hard worker. Unfortunately, it's going to be much harder for her than for the children to pick up a second language. I can tell already that she's frustrated with the grammar, but she's willing to accept that frustration. She's also really interested in the speaking and idioms that we talk about, the interesting part, the living English. Not slang, per se, but odd uses of verbs like to "hang up" a phone or to "take" a test.

All in all I guess I'm happy with what I've got. They are at the very least the most challenging Korean experience thus far, pushing me to use what I didn't think I even had. After the first day I was relieved to realize that the parents were happy with the job I was doing and the children were enamored already. The first meeting, the "test," was over, and now they too will become part of my routine. At the end of our session on Tuesday night, the children came up to me and gave me a piece of candy each, proclaiming proudly "Happy Halloween!" A little backwards, to be sure.