Baby's First Contractual Agreement

Well, I have a job and a work permit in Korea. Hooray!

I signed my first contract yesterday to teach at Camp Eng-Land for five weeks in January. I'll be one of 20 English speakers, 4 of whom I know from Yonsei, living, eating, and working at the biggest English camp in Korea. Basically there are five one week sessions during the school break where the rich Korean parents send there elementary and middle schoolers to be exposed to English, learn basic phrases and songs, and be off their hands for 7 days.

I have to say I'm pretty excited now. The camp is going to be pretty sweet. Sure, it's teaching elementary school kids, but because of their age the program isn't really academic. They do role play, story time, English karaoke, skits, sports, and other fun activities that I basically lead in English. On top of that, I get the assistance of two Korean natives who basically do all the grunt work for me (round up the kids, take them to their respective classes, lunch, and activities, get 'em to shut up). The camp feeds and houses me for 5 weeks, all while paying me enough money to go chill in Japan for the rest of my break (YEAH!).

My boss is a nice guy, and best of all not Korean. The camp is, of course, run by Koreans, but they have a middle man between the teachers and themselves. His name is Fatih, a Turkish guy who speaks great English and even better Korean. He's really young (probably 25), and thankfully understands Western culture well. Turkey is practically a European country, and so he's a boss that understands us. Having worked under Koreans before, I have to say that I was leery about this job. Cultural differences are so strong that misunderstandings happen often, and the way situations are handled can be frustrating. With Fatih in between I feel much better about taking this position.

I don't have to lose my private students either. Though the camp is outside of Seoul, Camp Eng-Land provides a bus back into the city every weekend. I'll be able to bus back on Saturday, make more cash, crash at my home in ShinChon, then bus to the camp again on Sunday afternoon. It's a dream job. There was nothing dissatisfactory about the contract to any of us (we all interviewed together), and the opportunity to do something useful with or snowy January is unequaled. Go Being White!!

Xavier

Since the move into the HaSook, there has been a shift in my social life. I have been much nearer to the school, so I've had more time for friends in the international community as well as Koreans who go to Yonsei. One of the most influential friends in the past two weeks has been Xavier.

Xavier is a political science and philosophy major from Ontario, Canada. Like most Canadians, he's one of the most liberal people you'll ever meet. The Democratic party in America is more conservative than the most conservative party in Canada. Unlike most Canadians, however, he's one of the smartest people you'll ever meet. I dare say smarter that me. He speaks French, Spanish, and is now taking Korean. He knows more about international politics, economy, and relations than I dare to challenge. Most often when politics comes up (outrageously frequently. I find that Canadians don't have that same taboo about religion and politics. Only religion.) I do my best to keep the prodding and disagreeing to a minimum because I just don't have enough facts to back myself up! I'm an ignorant American, but at least not as ignorant as most. The fact that I even have the half acceptance of the internationals is relieving. Most of the Americans have clustered together, having been intimidated out of the anti-American European crowd and not speaking the languages of the Asian blocs. I take this opportunity with Xavier as a chance to learn something about global economy and Canadian politics, two things that I previously thought uninteresting or nonexistent.

Xavier and I eat one meal a day together minimum. I help him study for Korean and he helps me understand certain political theories. I share Family Guy and he shares Borat. We have downright decent discussion for once. It's fantastic to not have to dumb myself down for a change. My friend in Mexico is struggling with separating Spanish words from English words, sometimes confusing the two ("I know it in Spanish, what is it in English?!?!"). I, on the other hand, am just watching my vocabulary slip away. Most often I don't have the Korean skills to express myself fully, but most people understand enough English for me to get my meaning better via that language. The downside is that I have to filter my own speech to the point where I feel as though I'm speaking to 1st graders all day long. I find that I totally blank on words more and more frequently. Xavier has been a breath of fresh, fluent English speaking air.

Maybe when I have an excuse to, I'll photograph Xavier so that you can have an accurate mental image.

Déjà vu

So again I found myself at the GrandMart, this time with a friend to buy the same dirt cheap comforter. Although it was very easy the second time, the three linen department ladies remembered me from the day before. After successfully finding an identical comforter in less than five minutes and with no charades, I moved on to finding a bath towel and realized that yet again I was lost without a vocabulary clue. There I was again, after scouring the ten story store, on the 4th floor of GrandMart, this time with my friend watching and laughing, singing and dancing to the same three ladies in the linen department.
"When you take a shower you get really wet, right? Well, after finishing your shower you use this:"
makes a motion reminiscent of vaudeville "you dropped a mouse down my shirt" contortions
"Tah-Ohl"
"You've gotta be yankin' me."

World Keeps on Spinning

I'm doing fine in my HaSook, sleeping on a bed that's a little too short, waking up and killing 5 mosquitoes which have gorged themselves on my blood overnight, actually being social with the university community, and having a great time. This place is really just what I wanted to find, and I've discovered that I actually practice my Korean more often these days.

The midterms are approaching. Next week in fact. So, instead of writing a paper, researching articles for my presentation, or studying for my Comp. Gov't or four sections of Korean midterm I'm updating for you guys. I don't blame you in the slightest. I'm using you to distract me.

I take a field trip with my gov't class tomorrow morning to observe a session of Congress, something that promises to be pretty interesting. That is, as long as the tour isn't in Korean. Given that I'm the only person who's not bilingual in that classroom, I'm afraid.

In (oops make that six mosquitoes) light of the recent media scare in the States over the whole North Korea thing, I'd like to take a few moments to de-hype you out of a frenzy. North Korea is not a threat. While they may be testing nuclear missiles they will not use them. First off, they're relationship with China is on the rocks. North Korea is too small to try anything crazy without provocation and the full support of Big Brother China to back them up. Secondly, South Koreans aren't worried at all. News here stopped covering it a week ago, nobody ever really talked about except the international kids. The mood is calm and things have gone on without a bump. These people know their crazy uncle/neighbor best of anyone, and I won't be worried until they're worried. Thirdly, Kim JongIl is not a maniacal lunatic like Bush and television would have you believe. He is very cool, calculating, and rational. He knows that his government and social power is based on the propagandist claims that North Korea could take America any day. He does not want to test that out because he knows it's total lies. More than anything, he would never strike first against the States or Japan because the entire international community would be against his tiny South Carolina sized Republic in no time. Kim JongIl pulls these publicity stunts for international headlines and "respect." He's no fool.

At the very least, economic sanctions have been intensified on the North, making it increasingly more difficult for them to conduct their experiments. The United States Embassy in the country is reporting no health hazards, travel warnings, international warnings, or increased threat levels for anywhere in all of Asia. Relax, most of it is the media scrounging for stories. I mean look at what else they're publishing. Jay-Z kisses another woman. Brittney Spears has another baby. Whoopdeedoo. Take it from me. I've spent this entire semester reading nothing but books on Korean modern history. I have a pretty strong grasp on the North's policies mentalities, and previous behaviors, and you guys have nothing to worry about.

The HaSook Begins

Well, I'm moved in safe and sound and all is well. My new home is cozy, friendly, close, and (best of all) cheap. I have found the atmosphere here to be very familial. Everyone leaves their doors open and is open to conversation. We eat breakfast together in the house, and most of us eat lunch or dinner together later. There are several real Korean students here, and my international friends thus far are from California, Canada, Monterey, and Kazakhstan. Who knows one single fact about Kazakhstan? If you said "I think it used to be U.S.S.R. territory," then you're on par with me as of two days ago.

I had to purchase my own linens for my bed here. Like anyone college student would, I went to the Korean equivalent of Target (10 stories tall like everything here) called Grand Mart. So there I was on the 4th floor of Grand Mart, realizing to my shame and embarrassment, that the only vocabulary I knew was bed. Not pillow, blanket, mattress cover, sheets, mattress pad, or pillow case. I had no chance. It boiled down to me playing charades with three Korean women employed by the linen department. "This is the bed, right? I want to buy the thing that goes above the bed and under the person." *hand signals only a pitcher would understand*

Point is, everything is just fine and all set. I'm excited about my new community and proximity to the school, and am now turning my focus fully to upcoming midterms and snagging more students of the English.

The End of an Era

No, I'm not talking about peace on a divided peninsula. It's much more trivial than that. No, I don't mean Madonna's career. It's not that trivial. On Sunday evening (For most of you that's still the wee hours of Sunday's dawn) I will be moving. The story? It may be long, but it's worth the telling.

When it boils down to the truth of why, there is one big reason. The prego. In America, a child is expected to leave the nest at matriculation or shortly after. In Korea, however, a son or daughter won't leave the home until the day they marry. My host sister, June, got married last March at an age waffling around 28. For her twenty-eight years of life she has lived with her mother, and now this 7 or 8 month pregnant horrormoned (that's my little pun. I thought about the whole subway ride.) woman wants to spend these last weeks of pregnancy with her mother. Unfortunately, the only reason I was able to stay with these people was the spare room that their dearly beloved daughter had just recently left behind.

I knew something was up when June came by the house after dinner. June never comes by the house if it's not to teach piano lessons (on weekend mornings), to eat dinner with her parents, or to translate important things to me. It wasn't a weekend morning, and dinner was over, so logic would lead us to believe that it must be the latter. June and I make small talk for a few minutes while Umma sits on the floor, then the bombshell gets dropped. "We would like you to find another home."

Not the worst news anyone has ever received (think about how America must have felt when they learned Survivor would be coming back for a second season), but for a 20 year old kid in a country on the other side of the world, getting the boot is no laughing matter. I was told to "take my time in finding a new home, but please leave as soon as possible." Whatever that means. That's as ambiguous as "more or less."

I first began looking at different homestays. Since the university was incapable of finding one in the first place, I had to pull the same "ask friends if they have relatives who want a hairy American" act. The end result was only a few homes that were two subway transfers, a bus ride, and then a taxi fare away. I started to look at other options.

Just today I bought a room at a 하숙집, or HaSookJip. It's basically a boarding house and bed-and-breakfast's love child. You have your own room and do your laundry, there's a community bathroom, etcetera, but there's an Ahjooma (Kind of a landlady) who makes breakfast for everyone and sometimes dinner. I'll have Korean and foreign neighbors, a mostly stable internet connection, a five minute walk to my classes, and only a $60 per month rent increase from my current home stay.

There are many reasons why I am glad for the move. For one, the distance is going to be a life saver. No more 3 hours a day thrown away to subway time. No more $10 minimum a week on subway fares. No more not being social because I have to get on the subway before it closes. In addition, this homestay was starting to become a linguistic headache. YongHee and I can communicate most anything we want to put time into, but that kid is never home. Since school started, between opera practice and choir conducting, there isn't a day of the week that he's home before 11 pm. Appa and I can communicate well enough. The guy has traveled and worked in more than fifteen countries, none of which with English as a first language, so even though he doesn't know English at all he understand nonverbal communication, speaking slowly, and emphasizing key words. He's good for me because he understands how to communicate when we don't speak the same language. Unfortunately he is no longer a regular in the household on account of his slave job. He leaves the house every day at 7:30 am and gets home around 10 pm. With June married and out of the house, this leaves only me and Umma 85% of the time. The woman is so frustrating. She won't slow down or use simple grammar/vocabulary to save my life. When she speaks it just barrages me and I sit there staring, not comprehending a single word. Imagine the difficulty of talking about what time I will be home, when I need to eat breakfast by, paying my cell phone bill, having friends visit, or rules in the kitchen when our communication is less than one way. I can half express myself to her in Korean, but then I don't get any comprehensible feedback. How you gonna act? Despite the fact that I never understand her, she insists on nagging about weird things or trying to start conversations when there's no one around to help us. This I can't take any longer.

I have been on the hunt for new housing for more than two weeks now. As I anticipated, the ever passive-aggressive Koreans began showing more and more signs that they wanted me to leave. Food started getting more scarce. My toothpaste and other toiletries were moved out of the cabinet. I came back from my Pusan trip to find everything taken out of my closet and laying on my suitcase. Can they be any more evasive of conflict!?! Two days ago June was back again. After dinner. We made small talk for a few minutes. Then she asks, "Can you be out by this weekend?" Yeah, I guess, but I don't have a place yet. I'll try...

Well the load off my mind is that I'm now set up to move and the tension is dissipated in the homestay. The community at the new HaSook is really warm, so I'm looking forward to the next stage of my stay in Korea.

More Pusan

If you're starting here, you won't understand. Please scroll down to "The Trip Begins" and work your way up.




After leaving the ten million fish behind, I walked toward the nearby YongDooSan Park, a couple of statues and grassy patches surrounding a 100 meter tall observatory. I was able to get a fantastic view of the second largest city in Korea, and afterwards had to wonder just how massive Seoul is. Pusan is sprawling in every direction as far as the eye can see, from the fringes of the sea all the way into the mountains. Speaking of, in the picture labeled "remeber this photo" I noticed a tall monument like structure that hadn't been recommended to me. Therefore, using my Korean language prowess and a whole bunch of nerves, I asked the name of the structure and how to get all the way over there and back. Then I found the appropriate bus stop in the appropriate direction (don't laugh, no sense of direction + attempting to get on an unknown bus unassisted = major danger) and road off into the mountains of Pusan.



The distant monument was indeed the MinJu Park, or Democracy Park. THere on top of the hill was a nine pillared...thing. I guess it was meant to resemble a tent or something else of a protective nature, because it was poised above a stone tomb housing who knows how many soldiers who died for Korea fighting for independance and democracy. A multi-division statue was placed in front of the door to the tomb, and below the whole scene was a series of photographs from early this century depicting battle scenes against the North Koreans and Chinese. It was yet another chance for me to look out once again in awe at the vast city below me.

After my bus jouorney back to the downtown area, I boarded the bullet train once again and returned to Seoul to spend the official ChuSeok day with my host family. I left behind a terrible accent, the salty smell of the ocean, and tons of yet unexplored culture and history, but at least I took with me a writhing belly full of tentacles. Now my next culinary obstacle is most assuredly dog. As with any story of mine, this one is riddled with mini-stories that I'd be happy to share when you catch me on MSN messenger, AIM messenger, email, google talk, or Skype.

Moving On

After the tour of GyeongJu I was dropped at the bus station. This is the beginning of the real journey. I took a bus alone to Pusan, the second largest city in Korea. I don't know anybody, nor am I with anyone bilingual. From here on out was my first real experience doing everything I needed to do for myself by myself. I had to get a hotel room, ask directions, determine bus routes and fares, order at restaurants, and make my way back to Seoul entirely on my own in Korean.

After a night in a motel that was obviously geared towards ladies of the night, if you will, I awoke in Pusan, just a ship away from HaeUnDae, the biggest tourist beach in the city. The sunrise was a little disappointing given the hazy morning, but the sea was beautiful. Pusan sits on the Sea of Japan (the East Sea, Korean insist). When you look at a map, Japan looks so close that you'd expect to be able to sea it from the shore, but Japan wasn't there for all I knew.



My first destination in Pusan was the fish market. I had heard rumor of this fish market. The sign outside claims that it's world famous. Naturally I'm skeptical than any pile of fish could possibly world famous. So I took the subway to the JaGalChi market in order to discover world fame and dead fish. Everyone knows that I am a man lacking all sense of direction, but when you can smell a place 8 minutes away it's hard not to find your way there.

It was probably 2 or 3 miles long, not counting the small tributary streets branching off it. There were at least a hundred boats in the bay behind. There were more fish than I ever thought were in the entire East Sea, much less than could ever be caught in one morning in one town. There were live fish, dead fish, iced fish, slabs of fish, fish flayed open, dried fish, cured fish, smoked fish, flat fish, eels, giant crabs, boxes full of blue crabs, sting rays, buckets of worms, turtles, shells, mollusks, clams, piles of squid, assorted baskets, octopi crawling out of bowls, giant motionless octopi, things that looked like burnt mushroom halves, things that (if taken out of context of Fish Market) I couldn't have told you if they came from the ocean or my nose, mounds and mounds of tiny fish and shrimp, old women chopping, slicing, poking, hanging, shelling, frying, skinning, kabobing, arranging, icing, dragging, announcing, haggling, cracking, spraying, wiping, scraping, and any other verb you can come up with. I saw one shark, two or three kinds of eel, three kinds of octopus, squid ranging from purple to gray to pink to white, things that I never thought were fish in the first place, and everywhere you turned there were tons of people shopping for the freshest fish in the country, and I mean fresh. Even as I was walking up and down the market, men in boots and smelling salty were dragging trash can sized buckets and crates attached to strings up and down to their respective tents, sloshing water as they went.

Tombs, Observatories, and Ice Boxes

Continuing on through GyeongJu, we stopped at a park that had several ancient tombs and ruins. Notably, here were the humongous burial mounds of some of the original kings of the Shilla. Much like the pyramids, the bigger the better. Since it took a huge amount of money (to come up will all that dirt) and labor (to put it all there) bigger burial mounds are more respectful. Most Koreans still bury there ancestors in this manner. You can see clusters of tent sized lumps in the ground everywhere you go outside the city.


In this place were many ruins, but that just meant you could see the foundations of old buildings or the placement of pillars. Most things were built with wood back in the day. There was an interesting tower, similar to a rook for you chess fans. Though no one is exactly sure it's purpose, it has been theorized that the CheonMunDae was meant to be an astronomical observatory of sorts. In other words, it's the stonehenge of Asia.

We walked further back into the park through fields and fields of the wild flower Koreans identify as "Cosmos." Finally we reached the SeoBingGo, or stone ice closet. This underground building was used by the Shilla dynasty to store ice in during the winter so that some would remain in the summer. No one was allowed to walk inside since the floor still showed the drainage system that was dug into it. To think that people were storing ice for whole seasons at a time in 600 AD.

Cultural Goldmine

After sleeping off a stomach full of live octopus, HongDae, his mother, and I got up Wednesday morning with a mission. We met with Nami, another friend from Yonsei who happens to live in Ulsan, and drove out to GyeongJu. A quick history, Korea used to be three divided empires, each with competing ties with other major powers in the region. The Shilla kingdom teamed up with China and conquered the other two kingdoms, uniting for the first time the entire peninsula. The southeast region of Korea where I was happened to be the original territory of Shilla, and GyeongJu was it's glorious capital. Understandably, this city was a freaking wealth of culture.


The first place we visited was BulGook Sa. Named the 23rd national treasure of Korea, BulGook Sa is an ancient Buddhist temple. It was burned down once during Japanese invasion in 1592, and again during Japanese colonization in the first half of the 20th century. The temple has been reconstructed and restored to what scholar's believe was it's original glory. The building itself is one of the most sacred places of Buddhism in the whole region, considered to be a sort of proverbial bridge between this world and heaven (like a slightly less important Jeruselam or Mecca).

The architecture of the building was incredible. All of the stone was original from the initial construction in the 7th century, and it fit together perfectly. All the staircases, railings, pagodas, and pillars were perfectly shaped and perfectly matching pieces of stone. The woodwork on the ceilings and roofs was elaborately carved and painted, often with likenesses of dragons or murals of various religious scenes. Photography was prohibited in most of the most exciting places, both because the Temple was still a operational place of worship and to protect the interior artifacts from the flashes.

There were several statues, murals, and tapestries that depicted religious scenes or buddhas (in Buddhism, there is one original Buddha and several smaller buddhas, like saints). I learned a lot about the religion and the history at this temple. There were a couple walls of prayer candles in one room that people could buy and have a name enscribed. The candle remains in the temple for one year. There was a garden of stacked rocks out behind one of the buildings. Literally thousands of rocks had been stacked into little tower balancing acts that had some spiritual significance I couldn't grasp.

The emphasis on Buddhism was so much more prevelant outside of Seoul. I had believed that it was a quiter religion that Christianity, as it's difficult to find Buddhists or temples in Seoul as opposed to the Christians who throw themselves at you out of their massive churche skyscrapers. It turns out that the 26% of the country that's Buddhist is actually outside of Seoul, mostly in the country side but regionally just more focused in the southern cities.


Our second stop was at the top of the mountian behind the BulGook Sa. We drove up a steep and windy road reminiscent of North Carolina to reach an outpost that looked over the whole of GyeongJu, the surrounding rice fields, and the mountains that were ringed around them. The pavillion at the housed another of the giant bells, this time with coins tossed all over the floor around it. We walked further up the mountain to SeokGul Am, the Bhuddist Grotto. All that could be seen (and so unfortunately photographed) from the outside was a tall grassy hill with a building sticking out of it protruding from the forest. This, the 24th national treasure of Korea, was a underground shrine. The building facade and the hill behind it had strategic holes that allowed the face of the giant Buddha to be constantly lit. The walls were covered with convex carvings of other buddhas, gaurdians, etc. Once again, all constructed sometime during the 600's.

Menu Update

After leaving the grandparents house we went to the beaches of Ulsan and had sushi. I had expressly saved my first sushi experience for my trip to the south, where the fish are right off the boat. Little did I know how it was really done. We went to a fish market by the docks, where there was a huge circus tent full of fish vendors. Each vendor was packed up against the one next to her (they were all old women. I can only assume the wives of fishermen...), and each one had buckets full of live fish. We walked along, looking at tons of different fish. Finally HongDae's parents start speaking to one of the vendors, at which point I get nervous. The pointing and haggling also gets me nervous. Then about 8 of these special fall fish get plucked out of their bucket and promptly beheaded. In addition, I saw her cutting up squid, some sort of sea worm, and octopus as we walked out of the tent. We sat down in a restaurant, and about five minutes later the woman comes in with a plate full of fish slices. FRESH!

As for the octopus...the interesting thing about octopus is that it doesn't entirely die after you kill it. Like earth worms or snakes, you can cut the head off and the rest of it just keeps on moving. Well, one plate was full of writhing tentacles. First of all, I'm not the best with chopsticks. I still drop things occasionally, I have moderate difficulty with noodles, I drip, and sometimes can't get a grip on round thing like garlic. So imagine trying to pick up a squirming, slimy, tentacle.

The octopus is not just tentacles, it's suction cups. The amazing part of eating live octopus is that when you put it in your mouth, it's still gripping at your gums, tongue, inner cheek, and teeth. Statistics tell us that at least one person dies every year from eating the live octopus. These people fail to chew thoroughly and the tentacles tear the unsuspecting diner's esophagus open. For this reason, despite constant laughter as the legs gripped and pulled at the inside of my mouth, I chewed each leg for minutes on end.

The whole rest of the night I kept thinking about that writhing plate of legs and combining that image with the inside of my stomach, leaving me with a strange sort of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea meets Magic School Bus imagery that made me almost positive I felt motion down there.

The Trip Begins

Hey Everybody, I'm back from my fantastic trip to Southern Korea. With the biggest national holiday this week all of school was cancelled. I seized the opportunity to visit some of the cultural gold mines in the southeast part of the nation. Early Tuesday morning I hopped on the bullet train for DaeGu, transferred to bus and rode all the way to the port city of Ulsan.

The holiday, as you may already know, is called Chuseok, and it's the Korean equivalent of Thanksgiving. The official Chuseok is actually on Friday, but the whole population travels out to the countryside to visit grandparents and other relatives. I took the opportunity to follow my friend HongDae down to his place in Ulsan on Tuesday, planning on visiting his city and then leaving for Pusan on Wednesday so that he could be with his parents during Chuseok.


The bullet train was quite a trip indeed. It took about an hour and a half to cover almost the whole nation with one stop. Most of the trip we were pushing speeds around 300 km/h (anyone, math?) according to the speedometers on the TV screens. We could have whizzed all the way down to Pusan, the second largest city in the country and the most important port, but we took the bus to Ulsan instead.

After we arrived in Ulsan, I met HongDae's family (mother, father, younger sister). contrary to my wildest expectations, we all piled promptly into the car to visit the granparents in the countryside. I had never expected to get out of cities here in Korea. There's no easy way to get to the country without your own car, Iwouldn't know anyone there, and I wouldn't know what to do. It was really exciting to be in the rural areas though.

I think the figure is 3/5 when it comes to the mountain to arable land ration here in Korea, so I got to see the terraced rice patties that were developed to make the most of the land. The strange thing about mountains here in Korea was hard to put my finger on. I can't exactly tell if it's that they're bigger or smaller, or if the trees are just shorter or less dense, but there are weird things visually about their size and tree cover. One obvious difference though is the spacing. In Georgia it's a steady decline from Appalachia in the North to foothills to just hills to the flat south. Here, however, the mountains seem to be sprinkled all over, not in any particular cluster or range. Therefore, you can be driving along surrounded by perfectly flat land, but there are single mountains or in pairs periodically on either side.

The grandparents lived in a small house on a garden filled plot of land that could only be reached by gravel road. They were growing all sorts of vegetables, some being dried or cured in the shack, some in various storage pots out back. The grandparents themselves were interesting, as all old people are. Most shockingly for me, through them I had my first encounter with the southern accent (of which I had been warned on account of it's speed and strange sound). When they spoke I didn't understand a single word. In fact, if I had heard them on the streets I would have thought they were half Indian half Japanese. There wasn't one familiar sound in any of their speech.

After sitting around and eating fruit, we took a nap with the grandparents. I slept on the pictured "pillow" which was made of strings of wood beads connected on either side to two boards. Since it was hollow it was supposedly "comfortable" in warm weather.

Yon-Go Jeon: Day 3

The YonGo Jeon adventure finally drew to an epic close on Saturday. Going into the day we only had to come out victorious from one of the two events to win the whole festival, either rugby or soccer. Everyone was really excited to see Yonsei victory for the third year in a row.

The stadium that both the events were being played in was the Olympic Soccer Stadium, a giant bowl that offered both a view of city and of mountains over it's rim. Even once the soccer game started and all of Yonsei and Korea University were in attendance the stadium was only half full. There were lot's of regular people spectating from the other half of the stadium, but it still wasn't anywhere near to brimming.


Rugby was the most pathetic display on Yonsei's part the entire weekend. We lost 27-3. Need I say more? It was in some ways beneficial though, since afterwards it was tied 2 events to 2 events. With only soccer left, the outcome of that last game decided the fate of the entire festival. If we had won rugby then soccer wouldn't have meant anything, but the game was so much more intense because of all the pressure.

As for soccer, Korea scored an early goal in the first half. After the half went and it still remained 1-0, the Korea university students got increasingly more loud and excited while we got equally more quiet and depressed. The loudest noises we made were in the last 3 minutes, when Yonsei missed two shots on goal. The disappointment was thick, especially among us internationals, who won't have another chance to be victorious. After the clock ran out everyone was already packing up and getting ready to leave. There were a few extra fleeting moments of stoppage time that weren't even worth watching, so were wanted to get out of the stadium to beat the rush. As I stand up I look down onto the field to see a miraculous, Red-Sea-parting, Yonsei goal. At this point all of Korea University sat down and shut up. Yonsei conversely made more noise than I thought was possible. I made more noise than I thought possible. We rushed the field, where we danced and cheered for the next hour. The referees had decided not to continue the game into overtime but rather to call the soccer game and thus the entire festival a tie.


In all there were some very strange things about this festival. First, no one watched the games. Sure, winning was important, but how they got there didn't matter. Only the outcome and the resulting pride (or shame) seemed to be important. Most of the Koreans knew so little about the sports that they thought rugby was in fact American football. In America if a player was down the entire stadium would fall quite until he got up, but here it was entirely different. If players went down the crowd would continue on with there cheers until the cheerleaders silenced them.















Speaking of the cheerleaders, those outfits were outrageous. The guys had teal and pink clown jumpers on, and it was manly! "My outfit has tassels. Where are your tassels, girly man?"

If a team goes for an hour and a half without playing, as the Korea University team did, that's called forfeiting in America. There would be no negotiation. If you refuse to start on time then you are forfeiting. That negotiation stuff would never fly in the states.


The cheering and unified spirit was incredible. People where school colors in the States and all, but for every single person to turn out, where the same color, and cheer there heart out is unheard of.

All in all I don't expect to experience anything remotely like YonGo Jeon for the rest of my life. It was incredible.

아카라카! 아라칭! 아라쵸! 아라칭칭쵸쵸쵸! 랄랄라 시스붐바! 연세선수 라플라! 헤이 연세 야!

Yon-Go Jeon: Day 2

Today was the first day of games between Yonsei and Korea. The event started with speeches from the respective school presidents, the mayor of the city, and other people I didn't recognize. It was hard to be interested because I didn't understand, but I knew it was a big deal.

The baseball game was extremely hot. I didn't catch much of the actual game because we spent the entire time from an hour before the game all the way through 'til the end doing our crazy cheers. Imagine a whole stadium of non-stop red and blue Cameron Crazies on crack. I was sweating so much. Yonsei won though (hooray!) 6-1.


Then we went to the Basketball game. Basketball and ice hockey were at the same time, so you had to pick one. The basketball game started an hour and a half late because Korea University wanted to negotiate the unfairness of one of our players. In the states this would never fly. If your players refuse to start for an hour and a half, that's called forfeiting.
The entire time Korea was complaining our players kept warming up and we just kept on cheering. By the time Korea decided to play our team was so tired. We ended up losing since we couldn't make the long balls and we weren't getting rebounds and our drives to the basket were unfruitful. In other words, we sucked (but only lost by 11). The stadium was still packed to the absolute brim, and it was a ton of fun.


Reportedly, Yonsei beat Korea 3-2 in ice hockey, which brings us to an intense final day. We only have to win either rugby or soccer to take the whole event, something our school has done the past two years.


I'm getting pretty good at the cheers, but my head is still throbbing, I can't hear for all the ringing, my throat is hoarse, and my arms ache. Bring it on Day 3!
앉고 서고 STOP!
뛰고 뛰고 뛰고 뛰고
앉고 서고 STOP!
뛰고 뛰고 뛰고 뛰고
소리치며 다시 한번 힘을 내서
뛰어라!!

Yon-Go Jeon: Day 1

Today was the opening ceremony of the epic 연고전, or Yonsei-Korea Festival. Over the course of Friday and Saturday five different sports matches will be played between the number two and three universities in Korea (Yonsei and Korea University, respectively). This rivalry is the biggest and most well-known in the whole nation, and this festival will be attended by people from all around Korea. Friday will be the baseball, basketball, and ice hockey matches, and Saturday wraps the festival up with the big boys, rugby and soccer.














We the international students have spent the entire week learning the complex cheers that the whole university already knows. When you go to a Braves game, there are all manner of little sounds and shouts and cheers that the audience does to stay interested.
When I went to such a game with a Korean, they lamented the fact that the cheers are so short and uninvolved. I was forewarned that day about the level of intensity of Korean cheers. We jump, sway, kick, twirl, wave, flap, pump, flail, clap, scream, sing, curse, and rap. There is no sitting down. Today's opening ceremony was an amphitheatre packed with Yonsei in blue and Korea in red, alternating back and forth doing these crazy cheers for four hours. This is just the warm up too. Rumor has it that at a Yonsei victory the streets, restaurants, bars, and every corner of the arena explode with a non-stop marathon of victory cheers and anti-Korea University songs. I can only imagine a street full of Asians in blue and red dancing and spinning and singing at the top of their lungs.














I don't have to imagine for long, however. Day 1 has already ended, after an exhaustive and exciting opening ceremony "pep rally" we're already for the sports action tomorrow! 사랑한다 연세! 고대바보!

Cultural Oddity Moment #9

Keep away from those with weak constitutions, and no I don't mean Iraqis. This is a little bit strange to say the least. I have been riding the subway now for a month and finally encountered a totally drunk man covered in his own vomit. What do you mean did I photograph it? Or course I photographed it! It's taken me a month to get to this moment! I thought twice about taking the picture, because there were lots of people on the subway and I felt kind of sick for doing it, but it was so worth it.


Now the oddity is that the man was already like this when I got onto the subway. Everyone else on the car was doing their thing, minding their business. As though there wasn't a guy covered in vomit at the end of the car. And I mean covered. This photo is blurry because I couldn't bear to post one that was clear, but you can still make out the damp blotch all over his knee and thigh. What you can't see is the flecks and chunks and slime running from his elbow to his fingernails, pieces of whatever already smelly Korean food he had eaten earlier that evening. Pieces that his half conscious body would sling off every now and again. He never moved from this position the entire time I was on the train. That's an hour. People got on and off, but the man never moved. Here comes the weirdness, I promise. When people got on the subway, no one said anything to the man, few people looked twice, no one shook him, no one moved to another car. There were people in the seat right next to him! Their feet were almost in the puddle! This is a subway! It smelt bad all the way at the other end of the car! How could they sit next to him!?! Well, I don't know about you guys but I want some freaking answers. Hey Koreans who read this: Is this really a cultural normality, or do you also find it weird that nobody shook him, nobody thought twice about the image? Why did everyone just pretend it wasn't happening? In New York that guy would have been thrown off the subway and the car would be empty. Even on Marta. Hook me up with some explanations.

This has been your cultural oddity moment of the day.

I Have Become That Which I Always Feared

It's happened. I have been toeing the line with it ever since high school. I swore it would never be me, that I'd seen too much of the ugly side to every put myself in that situation. My will was too weak however. Too weak to save myself from the tumbling abyss that I tripped into, not knowing I was falling until now...it's too late. I'm teaching.

It seemed so innocent at first, so simple. Hey Steven, my friend is looking for someone to speak English with her for and hour and a half every week. She doesn't want to work on vocab or grammar or anything difficult. She just needs a speaking partner to build confidence and fluency. Up until this point in the conversation I was skeptical but considering. She'll pay you $50 every session. Alright you talked me into it.

So we met last night for our first session. I should have known better than this of course. No one pays fifty dollars for conversation. Not even Whoopi Goldberg is that desperate for friends. We began talking:
ME: "So, are you studying at a university?"
HJ: "Yes. Dentistry."
ME: "That's pretty cool. Do you have nice teeth? You have to have nice teeth if you're going to be a dentist."
HJ: "No."
ME: "Hmm. Well, where do you go to school?"
HJ: "Seoul National University."
ME: "How about in a full sentence?"
HJ: "To Seoul National University."
It went on like this for more than an Hour and a half. Ridiculous? Oh yes. It didn't take long before I felt like there wasn't a topic left in the world! I can make small talk pretty effectively. I'm not the master by any means, but I learned from the master. You'd think that I could babble for an hour and a half every week no problem, but this chick didn't want to offer anything!

To make matters worse/more stressful she paid me in advance for four sessions worth. For starters I left the coffee shop trying to look like the least muggable person on the whole subway. To top it off now I feel as though I really have to succeed and prepare for these lessons and make this girl a master English speaker. Though she didn't want to, we talked some grammar and vocabulary since this girl doesn't recognize three and four syllable words nor does she use any grammar construction outside of the standard S+V+O.

She does in fact have homework and I will be ready for her next week, but man it caught me off guard. As of yet I hadn't really encountered someone so poor in English and so embarrassed to speak it. It's not as though everyone else in the coffee shop was speaking English; I was the only white guy. Even if her English was terrible (and it was) she would have been impressive, but she wanted to speak as little as physically possible given all the prodding for conversation I was doing. She much preferred to use her dictionary and write things down, I habit which I quickly caught on to and prohibited. She also told me that next time she would prepare things to talk about. ????? Preparation is all fine and well, but this is "free talking" class. You won't have time to prepare in real conversation, so memorizing an anecdote isn't getting her anywhere. Oh well, I've got some ideas up my sleeve I suppose. Any suggestions Oh Seasoned Ones? Mom? Ren? JohnJasonBush?

Assessment

My first examinations begin this week. Actually they're as much examinations as Paris Hilton is a good singer. I have a vocab quiz in Korean and a Korean map quiz for Modern History, two of the easiest types of quizzes for my learning style. I have a mental gift of short term memorization, and the tests are basic to boot. The vocab words are ones that I learned back in second semester Korean one, and the map quiz is only the most famous locations. This should prove to be a nice and easy introduction into a semester at the number two school in the nation.

To tell the truth, I've not yet gotten the impression that study life at one of the most rigorous universities in Asia is going to be much of a challenge. The first reason is that these classes are being taught in English. As I may have made mention of before, the teachers are not entirely comfortable reading large quantities of papers or engaging in intense discussion, so the classes are almost entirely based on readings. If one simply reads the book the class just passes itself. I don't feel like I'm going to have to squeeze really innovative or insightful revelations out of myself in order to get A's.

Secondly, I've always felt from the first days of Korean class at Georgia that foreigners are held to a lower standard than real Korean children. I'd go so far as to say racism, but perhaps it's simply a push for Korea to make a name for itself or something along those lines. Be that as it may, I've always felt that Korean language teachers act as though it's not possible for a white person to master their language, so the expectations of pronunciation, accent, and word choice are much lower. This makes for both an easy atmosphere to practice in (everyone's impressed no matter what you say) and a difficult atmosphere in which to actually learn the language (no one seems intent on correction).

Even in a work environment, Koreans admitted to expecting more from each other than from me since I wasn't actually one of them. It's a somewhat disconcerting superiority complex that's at once exclusive and insulting. I understand that they want Koreans to be better than the people of other nations: that's just national pride. When it comes to my education, however, I don't want to be pandered because I'm white. I don't like the fact that I am not much more to the faculty and staff here but an "international competer" put here to spur their students on to greater things. The emphasis of many of the classes is not on helping white people understand Korea but on helping those of Korean descent reconnect with their great and illustrious country. I'd have to say, I'm kind of pissed.

Snowball Effect

When I first got here I thought to myself This isn't so bad at all. There are so many things that are exactly the same. But I have to say that I am experience what I thought I had more or less dodged (minus a few incidents with the shower). Though most everything appeared the same on the surface, there are little differences that were at first negligible and are now obvious. You can hear more cicadas than would be normal in Georgia. No one owns a dog bigger than a chihuahua. The bricks on the sidewalk are laid at an awkward angle. There's Korean on the manhole covers. The seat backs in the desks at school feel slightly off. Von Dutch is wildly popular. The sweet potatoes are the color of regular potatoes. It's rude not to wash your face before eating breakfast. Most places, even fast food, street vendors, and ice cream parlors, don't want you to pay until after you've eaten. There is no half second lag between when the light turns red and the next light turns green. Some TV shows end on the 15th minute of the hour. People still wear white gloves when they wear tuxedos. Laundry is done in several frequent, small loads.

These sundry little differences have created a what we in the business call a snowball effect, or butterfly effect for the Ashton Kutcher fans out there. All in all I have to admit that I have a case of culture shock.

I always knew that the culture was strange and different, but I never felt anything like a "shock" per se. I felt that ever all I had handled it very well. It now becomes clear that the slight differences in every last aspect of life make for a really big difference to my mind, and some days I just feel sick of it. I was on the subway one day and felt so sick of hearing Korean being spoken that I just got off at the next stop and waited for the next train. I find that, while I go to many restaurants and stores in the city, my favorites are styled in a western kind of way. It's still something of a relief just to walk in an area with no buildings, no writing, no Koreans.

I now know that I hadn't felt that I was culture shocked because I was looking in all the wrong places for it. I expected something like feeling weak at the knees and nauseous, a trapped, claustrophobic sensation that would just overwhelm me. In fact culture shock is a sneaking sensation that everything is just a little bit wrong, as though an alien abducted you and tried to build you a habitat like your own, but goofed all the subtle details. Culture shock is the nagging in your brain that nothing is quite right here, and that you should find something immediately that validates the reality of the world, proof that your not in a glass container.

Happy Birthday Jason!

Today is September the 13th, simultaneously marking my one month anniversery of the end of my journey to Korea and my younger brother's 16 year anniversary of the end of his journey through the birth canal. This is the first birthday of immediate family that has occured during my stay abroad, and I was confronted with the dilema of how celebrate on the other side of the world in a way that might be somewhat meaningful to him. I decided to spend some time today walking around the city of soul, thinking about my brother. During this perambulance, I was also taking numerous pictures of the things I saw that coincided with my thoughts about Jason. Here are the results:



1)You like the gators and that makes me sad.
2)It's a french horn lamp! Remember that time you tried to play french horn? Yeah, that was pretty funny.
3)Asians share your same idea of what "buff" is.
4)General goofiness reminds me of you. Like that time we made up dance moves while doing the dishes.
5-7)Soccer is everywhere! Park JiSun is like a god to these people.
8-11)Guys in pink shirts proliferate. The line between male and female style is much more hazey. You like pink shirts. The line between you and females is much more hazey.


Oh, and who could forget that time you looked like a fool on the first picture I ever took with this camera?

Nothing says "Happy Birthday" like a squinty-eyed teeth and nostrils shot.