Week before last, the Native Speakers of English Teachers (NSETs) in my district (Seongdong) attended a workshop, otherwise referred to by the S.M.O.E. (Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education) as a “bonding trip.”
We rode a bus about 3 hours west – to the “West Sea” – and were able to see where the sea parts. During low tide, a strip of land is revealed that goes way out into the sea; land that is otherwise covered by sea water. It’s quite an experience to be standing so far out there, knowing that within a few hours, it will once again turn into an underwater world.
People go out there to dig for clams and other shellfish.
That day, we were among those people.
Hand-held rakes helped us expose creatures hiding beneath the sand.
I only found one clam worth keeping, so I carried it around for a while, in my little black plastic bag. After some time exploring the creatures (starfish, crabs – some as small as tiny ticks! – clams, mussels, various urchins and many other interesting sea life that I don’t have a name for), we headed back toward the main beach. We were supposed to pool all our findings together, but last minute, I was thinking, “Oh man, this lil dude is gonna boil, all because I dug him up!” That thought didn’t set well with me, so I whirled my arm back and chunked it as hard as I could, back to the sea.
I probably would have felt good about my random act of kindness toward the li’l creature, had he made it to the water. However, he ricocheted off a rock and his shell busted into two and went flying in separate directions.
So much for trying to save him, huh?
I actually felt pretty bad, for a few moments, envisioning him slowly drying-up into a shriveled mass while the tide crept in closer and closer, sucking him back into its grasp, giving him one last breath of life.
:) Okay, that may be taking it a wee bit far. :)
After that, we walked up to a seaside restaurant where we sat around low tables on flat pillows and shared a traditional Korean meal (the pictures at the link at the bottom of this entry will show you what lunch looked like).
We then hopped back on the bus and ventured out to a reed field; the fourth largest in the country (about 60,000 acres). When they first told us that we’d be visiting a reed field, you could feel it in the air that the general attitude was “Whoop-dee-doo,” but it really was a neat experience.
Here is an excerpt from my journal entry that day:
“…Rugged hillsides, where purple’s drinking green, and the tall feathery necks of the reeds are whispering secrets and shushing the riots inside our souls…
Just listen.”
There were paths throughout the reed field, with reed stalks looming high above our heads. You could hear people’s voices and you could tell that they were near, but the reeds were so thick, you couldn’t see the people lurking within them. It was cool.
(Although I do have my own pictures to share, until I am able to get them uploaded, you can indulge in the ones found here: http://www.noslen.com/trip/ . It is the website of a NSET who works for the same district as I do – he has been working hard to photographically record his sojourn.)
Friday, November 9, 2007
Thirty Twice
Not everyone gets to turn 30 twice in their lifetime. I have a strong feeling I will be one of those rare individuals who gets to say that she did. And no, I don’t mean that I’ll be like Aunt Rosie and say that I stopped having birthdays after 29. I’m still having birthdays. The kicker is, Koreans include the time spent in the womb when calculating age. When a child is born, they round-up: So, the day he is born, he is considered one year old.
When in Korea, do as Koreans do (unless it includes the digestion of questionable things).
This year, I turned 30 in Korean age.
The way I see it, when I get back to the US, in about 10 months, that will give me two months to experience being 29 years old, and then in October of 2008, I’ll turn 30 once again. I will then be 30 in American age.
But age ain’t nothin’ but a number…
Right, Mother Nature?
When in Korea, do as Koreans do (unless it includes the digestion of questionable things).
This year, I turned 30 in Korean age.
The way I see it, when I get back to the US, in about 10 months, that will give me two months to experience being 29 years old, and then in October of 2008, I’ll turn 30 once again. I will then be 30 in American age.
But age ain’t nothin’ but a number…
Right, Mother Nature?
Keultarae Candy Video
Here is a video of the keultarae candy I mentioned in a previous entry. Check it out. If the link doesn’t work, then you can search on youtube.com for “Kkultarae Candy in Seoul, Korea.” (Thanks again to Eric for the video.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZSkJMdzxfM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZSkJMdzxfM
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Other Odds & Ends
One curiosity I had before coming to South Korea was what using the restroom would be like. Although it is legal to drop your pants relieve yourself in public, I have only seen it once. And the one time I saw it was when a father let his daughter go pee on the sidewalk. She was about 3, I’d say, and part of me was like, ‘Well, they’re out and about, public restrooms are not readily available in this area, and like Little Orphan Annie says: “When ya gotta go, ya gotta go.”’ I have not yet dropped my pants to pee on the sidewalk, and most likely, that won’t happen. But I have had interesting experiences behind stall doors. Most toilets in my school are recessed pots. Anyone who knows me better than they probably wish they did, knows I am not a squatter! I don’t know why; it just is not a talent with which I have been blessed. So, anytime the single western-style toilet has been on the blink or occupied, I’ve had to utilize the squatty pot. About a week ago was the first time I said aloud my procedure in this style of restroom, and since I’ve told a few people already, why not tell it to the entire WWW? When I use this style of toilet, I have to completely remove my drawers, hang them on the hook, “go,” then of course put my pants back on. The thought of “missing” and my pants getting in the way is just too much of a chance to take, so I take charge and bypass the opportunity to develop my most embarrassing moment. ☺ For the record, it really doesn’t take me but a few seconds longer – I’ve gotten to where I can quickly strip and quickly dress in the bathroom stall. ☺
Public drinking is also okay – however, like the fecal matter, I really don’t see many people walking around with alcoholic beverages in their hands. The two or three times I’ve seen it, they have not been Korean people; they’ve been Western guys. And no, I don’t walk the streets with one in my own hand, although it has tempted me a couple of times. ☺ Kinda like Vegas – if it’s legal there, why not do it just for the mere sake of taking advantage of it due to being restricted from it my whole life. ☺
Just because I haven’t seen any Korean men carousing about with cans of Cass or bottles of soju, doesn’t mean I haven’t seen the result of alcohol consumption in large quantities in their facial expressions and body movements. It’s common to see men in business suits stumbling through the streets, any day of the week. Many times, they have a buddy who is either yanking them out of the way of an oncoming bus, or shoving them into a cab against their will.
For the most part, I think the kids like me (and that feeling is reciprocated – for the most part - ;) ) but I will ashamedly tell you that I made two students cry in the same day! (Two different classes) It was awful!! The first boy cried because we were going around the room doing an activity where the students had to stand up and speak, and I think he just didn’t want to do that. Tears welling-up in his eyes were a strong indication of his frustration. When I noticed, I said, “It’s okay, we can come back to you,” but I was too late ‘cause he put his head down on his desk and began sobbing.
The other situation, I feel MUCH worse about. We were doing a unit on “Who is She?” and I was playing a game with the students sort of like “I Spy” where I was describing students and then I’d say either “Who is he?” or “Who is she?” after I gave a few clues. When I was describing one particular girl, after my three clues, I said, “Who is he?” and the uproar from the students made me realize it was a SHE not a HE. She was so embarrassed and started crying. I don’t remember ever feeling that bad about something that happened in my classroom! In my defense though, yesterday, that same girl came into the classroom to give something to Linda (we share a room) and after she left, I began telling the story to Linda, and she said, “No, that’s not a girl. That’s a boy.” So…apparently I’m not the only one who thinks that. Needless to say, I’m so glad that that unit is over!
Public drinking is also okay – however, like the fecal matter, I really don’t see many people walking around with alcoholic beverages in their hands. The two or three times I’ve seen it, they have not been Korean people; they’ve been Western guys. And no, I don’t walk the streets with one in my own hand, although it has tempted me a couple of times. ☺ Kinda like Vegas – if it’s legal there, why not do it just for the mere sake of taking advantage of it due to being restricted from it my whole life. ☺
Just because I haven’t seen any Korean men carousing about with cans of Cass or bottles of soju, doesn’t mean I haven’t seen the result of alcohol consumption in large quantities in their facial expressions and body movements. It’s common to see men in business suits stumbling through the streets, any day of the week. Many times, they have a buddy who is either yanking them out of the way of an oncoming bus, or shoving them into a cab against their will.
For the most part, I think the kids like me (and that feeling is reciprocated – for the most part - ;) ) but I will ashamedly tell you that I made two students cry in the same day! (Two different classes) It was awful!! The first boy cried because we were going around the room doing an activity where the students had to stand up and speak, and I think he just didn’t want to do that. Tears welling-up in his eyes were a strong indication of his frustration. When I noticed, I said, “It’s okay, we can come back to you,” but I was too late ‘cause he put his head down on his desk and began sobbing.
The other situation, I feel MUCH worse about. We were doing a unit on “Who is She?” and I was playing a game with the students sort of like “I Spy” where I was describing students and then I’d say either “Who is he?” or “Who is she?” after I gave a few clues. When I was describing one particular girl, after my three clues, I said, “Who is he?” and the uproar from the students made me realize it was a SHE not a HE. She was so embarrassed and started crying. I don’t remember ever feeling that bad about something that happened in my classroom! In my defense though, yesterday, that same girl came into the classroom to give something to Linda (we share a room) and after she left, I began telling the story to Linda, and she said, “No, that’s not a girl. That’s a boy.” So…apparently I’m not the only one who thinks that. Needless to say, I’m so glad that that unit is over!
More On Food...
We had rice cakes and mamosa bread for tea time this AM.
Yum on the rice cakes. I don’t really know how to explain them…they are very sticky, smooth rice balls, about the size of a ping pong ball. I’ve only seen white ones and green ones (and as a matter of fact, I don’t think the green ones are made of rice, yet of some type of green vegetable). They are rice-tasting on the outside and sweet on the inside. It’s a type of seongpyeon. During Chuseok, or Korean Thanksgiving, seongpyeon is a popular food item, but it’s a little different from what I had today; the kind at Chuseok has honey in the middle of the rice cake.
Mamosa bread has jam and what seemed like cream cheese in layers. It was pretty good.
In shopping areas, they have keultarae stands and it’s so fun to watch them make it. Usually it is 3 or 4 guys singing and chanting and describing the candy-making process. It is made of honey and it’s stringy; it actually looks like thin white strings – it’s amazing to watch. I'm no math whiz, but there is a mathematical concept behind it: they start out one string, then it turns into 2 strings, then it turns into 4, then it turns into 16. So, I think it's like this:
1 string, 2 strings, then 2 to the 2nd power, 2 to the 3rd power, 2 to the 4th power, 2 to the 5th power, 2 to the 6th power and so on, until they get to 1024 strands and that makes one batch.
It really is amazing to watch – they do it quickly so it’s impossible (for me, anyway) to be able to tell how they are doing it. It’s like they take the strings and dip them down into what appears to be flour, and twist the strings through their fingers and when they shake off the excess powder, the number of strings have multiplied.
Wow! ;)
I know a guy who has a video of it so when I figure out how to upload videos to this thing, I will enlighten you. :)
Yum on the rice cakes. I don’t really know how to explain them…they are very sticky, smooth rice balls, about the size of a ping pong ball. I’ve only seen white ones and green ones (and as a matter of fact, I don’t think the green ones are made of rice, yet of some type of green vegetable). They are rice-tasting on the outside and sweet on the inside. It’s a type of seongpyeon. During Chuseok, or Korean Thanksgiving, seongpyeon is a popular food item, but it’s a little different from what I had today; the kind at Chuseok has honey in the middle of the rice cake.
Mamosa bread has jam and what seemed like cream cheese in layers. It was pretty good.
In shopping areas, they have keultarae stands and it’s so fun to watch them make it. Usually it is 3 or 4 guys singing and chanting and describing the candy-making process. It is made of honey and it’s stringy; it actually looks like thin white strings – it’s amazing to watch. I'm no math whiz, but there is a mathematical concept behind it: they start out one string, then it turns into 2 strings, then it turns into 4, then it turns into 16. So, I think it's like this:
1 string, 2 strings, then 2 to the 2nd power, 2 to the 3rd power, 2 to the 4th power, 2 to the 5th power, 2 to the 6th power and so on, until they get to 1024 strands and that makes one batch.
It really is amazing to watch – they do it quickly so it’s impossible (for me, anyway) to be able to tell how they are doing it. It’s like they take the strings and dip them down into what appears to be flour, and twist the strings through their fingers and when they shake off the excess powder, the number of strings have multiplied.
Wow! ;)
I know a guy who has a video of it so when I figure out how to upload videos to this thing, I will enlighten you. :)
Learning the Language
Well, I’m not asking people on the street and in shops if they know how to speak Korean, anymore, which is good. I had full intentions on signing up for a free language course offered by the Culture Center, but long story short, my co-teacher, Linda, and I have decided to provide each other with a language exchange. After classes, we will teach each other about 20 minutes each per day. I think she will be able to teach me enough to ensure that I pass an exit exam so that I can begin taking a language course at the Culture Center next month. We’ll see how all that pans out.
Other than that, I’m slowly learning Hangeul (the Korean alphabet). When I’m able to decipher a word, I get all pumped up like I remember by Kindergarteners did, last year, when things began to ‘click’ with them. It’s quite exciting. ☺
If You See a Coin, Pick it up, Then All Day You'll Have Good Luck
This was something I’d intended on blogging about at the very beginning of my sojourn, but I never did. So, I’m going to back-peddle and reminisce about something special that happened to me. I know some people may find it hokey, but I have to remind myself that I am not writing for “some people”; I’m writing for myself. ☺
First, a preamble: I will have you know that I’ve always had this thing with numbers. I believe that numbers play a large part in the way of the world; probably in such a way that we will never fully understand. I think numbers have meaning; at least, in my own life, they have proved to hold very deep meaning.
Prelude number two: My dad passed away about 8 1/2 years ago. He had been a very important person in my life, to put it ever so lightly. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of him, missed him, wished he were still here. And every once in a while, when I put my life on pause to take a strong look at it, I wonder what Dad would say about things I’m doing, paths that I’ve chosen. Even now, after so many years have passed, I still long for his advice…
And now, my story…
My first week in South Korea was spent at the Hyundai Learning Center, a couple of hours away from the city of Seoul, for Orientation. The first morning I awoke in the Land of Morning Calm, I was alone in my room, since my roommate hadn’t yet arrived. I stepped out onto the balcony to take in the mountainous view and as soon as I looked out, it hit me that I was on the other side of the Earth, far from anything remotely familiar to me. I chuckled aloud and said to myself, “What the hell am I doing in South Korea?! Have I lost it?!” Although a slight panic shimmied through me in an electrifying way, I carried on with the day, secretly wrestling Anxiety.
We’d had time gaps between the mandatory meetings for Orientation, so a few of us decided to take advantage of that free time and venture “to town.” After the short bus ride and a leisurely walk, we happened to stumble upon what appeared to be a shrine of some sort. There was a fence around it but it wasn’t locked, so we thought we’d go in to take a look. The place might have been a small cemetery since there were headstone-looking blocks neatly spaced on the ground. (?) It was really neat to see the shrine and to examine the things that had been left behind; I assume they were gifts either offered to honor Buddha (since there was a statue of him there) or for the people who were buried there. (I’m not certain on any of this; that is merely my perception of what it might have been.)
We traipsed around a bit before continuing our stroll, and as I was moseying out of the fenced-in area, watching the ground closely so as to not step on any might-be graves, I spotted something shiny on the ground. Realizing it was a coin, I stooped down to pick it up. It was the first Korean coin I’d ever touched, or even seen for that matter, since the money I had exchanged at the airport was all in bills. Low and behold, I looked at the year of the coin and it read 1999. Immediately, I thought of my dad, because that was the year that he died. At once, I felt a feeling of serenity sweep over my body, and it was then that I had my answer: “No, I’m not crazy for hopping on a plane and sacrificing a year of my life in a foreign country; I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’m here for a reason, and Dad is with me.” I truly felt, at that moment, that in some way, Dad was offering encouragement and support, and that made me feel much better about my decision to come here. I kissed Anxiety on the forehead and bid her adieu and haven’t looked back at her since.
The angel and devil on my shoulders quickly argued back and forth as to whether or not I should keep the coin, and I didn’t want to listen to the bickering or wait around to find out who won the spat, but instead I listened to my Id and kept the coin. I told myself that it was probably not a gift someone had left behind, yet mistakenly dropped, since it was near the fence and not near the shrine or near any tombstones.
(I keep that coin in my tennis shoe, and I think of that situation every time I put them on.)
Another strange thing about this trip so far is that one of the gals whom I have befriended found out that she’s pregnant. No, no, no she didn’t get knocked up by a Korean dude, and I doubt that it was an immaculate conception. She was pregnant before coming here; she just didn’t know it until recently. (How’s that for timing?!) When she shared the news with me, I congratulated her and asked when her due date was. In the few short moments when she was recalling the exact date the doctor had given her, racing through my head was, “She’s going to say April 29th. She’s going to say April 29th. She’s going to say April 29th.” Take a guess at what date she revealed to me? Yep, you guessed it right – April 29th…the date of my father’s death.
Once again, I felt a sense of serenity wisp over me… Crazy as it may sound...
Sure, it’s possible that the “numbers” thing that goes on in my head is merely coincidental.
But a big part of me hopes that it isn’t.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
M.I.A.
I know it seems that I have been hiding-out but I am no longer able to post to the blog from school. So much for going early/staying late to do that, huh? However, I have been writing and saving my blog entries as Word documents and saving to my jump drive. Now that I am back at the apartment, in the computer lounge, ready to post them, I discover that there's no USB port on the computer here! (First time I've seen a floppy drive in a LONG time! :) ) I tell you, it's one thing after another! I've got all sorts of things to post; it's just a matter of figuring out the best way to do it!
Stay tuned! Don't give up on me!! :)
Stay tuned! Don't give up on me!! :)
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Warning: Not for Children or Anyone Sensitive
While Sheryl Crow and Etta James rock me to sleep, memories of the day float in tiny bubbles above my head...
So, I get up to write...
Here's what got splashed onto the page this time...
We found a Costco today! I couldn't, for the life of me, tell you where exactly it was; I blindly followed my pack of friends while being amazed, still, at how much people push and shove without remoarse, and also at the array of condoms and breath mints packed tightly in vending machines in the subway terminal. How appropriate to have all of this stowed neatly in one little box, right? ... Merely a few thousand won away from a breath-freshening, immoral time, huh?! ;)
Since we had goodies spewing from our arms due to our first CostCo experience, we took a taxi back. Wow. I don't think any other word could quite describe it better than that: WOW. I'm pretty certain I gained a handful of pre-mature wrinkles on my face due to all the expressions I made on that life-threatening ride "home." I'll just have to consider my part of the cab fare to have been a short, cheap visit to Six Flags, to justify the experience.
So far, at school, I'm basically either a zoo animal or a celebrity; it's difficult to decipher which exactly, at this point, since I don't know what actual words are lashing from their tongues.
I've become quite accustomed to saying, "Mian amnida, hongu gauder chall buteo." (I'm sorry, I don't speak Korean well.") I realized, recently, that for the longest time, I'd been asking people on the street if they speak Korean, instead of English. ("Excuse me, do you speak Korean?" LOL!) Although the two words, in Korean, sound similar, they truly are NOT interchangeable! ;) How funny is that...?! 'Cracks me up when I think about it. :)
Although I miss everyone dearly, I haven't really experienced what I thought I would be experiencing at this moment in time as "culture shock". A few of us had a discussion regarding the topic yesterday, and someone's two cents were spent on, "I think we're just still in the 'honeymoon' stage." Money well spent, if you ask me... I think that must be it; I'm sure it will hit me soon enough. I'm not quite sure which phase comes next, but as quickly as this sojourn has been going so far, it could quite possibly nail me in the next minute or two.
Today, I went to Dongdaemun Stadium with Katie and Candice. It used to be used for athletic events, but now is being utilized as a giant flea market. (My brother, Kyle, would be ecstatic. ;) ) Like everything else I have experienced in this country, it is just too much. This is a country of extremes, indeed. However, if you need anything from shoes & belts to XXX S&M Japanese flicks, to cooking pots and tea makers or dildoes with rubbery spurs portruding from them (?? not sure what purpose those serve, but whatever... I'll happily live in ignorance on that bit ;), to brass knuckles and ninja stars, this is the place for you. The most disturbing item was a silicone fetus at one of the "sexier" booths - with a HOLE in it, even, according to Katie. (I'd refused to look that long to be able to tell whether that was the case.)
(*If ignorance truly is bliss, then I'm BLISSFUL that I'm ignorant because I really don't even want to know about most of what goes on in this world...)
Of course, tons of people have been inquiring about that rumor of dog-eating. Yes, my friends, it is true that they do, in fact, devour man's best friend. If that isn't enough to bother you (I mean, hey, it bothers people in India that we would smash a hamburger, right?), then I invite you to my efficiency apartment late at night, when all is dark except for a few city lights gleaming through the window; when the city is mostly quiet, except for high-pitched wails from a dog being beaten to death, in the distance.
Yes, beaten.
Why did your jaw just drop to the floor? Come on, what's wrong with that? It tenderizes it better when they beat the dog-meat while it's still alive, you know. Plus, the adrenaline that is excreted during the beating is good for male virility.
Totally justifiable, right??
It makes me want to quit teaching people how to speak English and teach them how to be humane, instead.
Seriously.
My God.
Yes, I'm very disturbed by the dog thing.
I've heard different stories; some have said that at one time, meat was not readily available so that is why they had to eat dog in the first place (which, personally, I have to understand, in a way, being a Libra and all), and that nowadays, it's typically older males (who are accustomed to eating it) that consume it.
Either way, it's still going on.
The weirdest part is that they also have dogs as household pets.
??!!
Well, I can't very well leave on such a note, so I will have you know that all in all, today was a good day, as I was able to score all kinds of hot bargains at the 1000-won shop (basically, the dollar store).
Maybe it's the small things in life that make us want to keep living (selfishly).
So, I get up to write...
Here's what got splashed onto the page this time...
We found a Costco today! I couldn't, for the life of me, tell you where exactly it was; I blindly followed my pack of friends while being amazed, still, at how much people push and shove without remoarse, and also at the array of condoms and breath mints packed tightly in vending machines in the subway terminal. How appropriate to have all of this stowed neatly in one little box, right? ... Merely a few thousand won away from a breath-freshening, immoral time, huh?! ;)
Since we had goodies spewing from our arms due to our first CostCo experience, we took a taxi back. Wow. I don't think any other word could quite describe it better than that: WOW. I'm pretty certain I gained a handful of pre-mature wrinkles on my face due to all the expressions I made on that life-threatening ride "home." I'll just have to consider my part of the cab fare to have been a short, cheap visit to Six Flags, to justify the experience.
So far, at school, I'm basically either a zoo animal or a celebrity; it's difficult to decipher which exactly, at this point, since I don't know what actual words are lashing from their tongues.
I've become quite accustomed to saying, "Mian amnida, hongu gauder chall buteo." (I'm sorry, I don't speak Korean well.") I realized, recently, that for the longest time, I'd been asking people on the street if they speak Korean, instead of English. ("Excuse me, do you speak Korean?" LOL!) Although the two words, in Korean, sound similar, they truly are NOT interchangeable! ;) How funny is that...?! 'Cracks me up when I think about it. :)
Although I miss everyone dearly, I haven't really experienced what I thought I would be experiencing at this moment in time as "culture shock". A few of us had a discussion regarding the topic yesterday, and someone's two cents were spent on, "I think we're just still in the 'honeymoon' stage." Money well spent, if you ask me... I think that must be it; I'm sure it will hit me soon enough. I'm not quite sure which phase comes next, but as quickly as this sojourn has been going so far, it could quite possibly nail me in the next minute or two.
Today, I went to Dongdaemun Stadium with Katie and Candice. It used to be used for athletic events, but now is being utilized as a giant flea market. (My brother, Kyle, would be ecstatic. ;) ) Like everything else I have experienced in this country, it is just too much. This is a country of extremes, indeed. However, if you need anything from shoes & belts to XXX S&M Japanese flicks, to cooking pots and tea makers or dildoes with rubbery spurs portruding from them (?? not sure what purpose those serve, but whatever... I'll happily live in ignorance on that bit ;), to brass knuckles and ninja stars, this is the place for you. The most disturbing item was a silicone fetus at one of the "sexier" booths - with a HOLE in it, even, according to Katie. (I'd refused to look that long to be able to tell whether that was the case.)
(*If ignorance truly is bliss, then I'm BLISSFUL that I'm ignorant because I really don't even want to know about most of what goes on in this world...)
Of course, tons of people have been inquiring about that rumor of dog-eating. Yes, my friends, it is true that they do, in fact, devour man's best friend. If that isn't enough to bother you (I mean, hey, it bothers people in India that we would smash a hamburger, right?), then I invite you to my efficiency apartment late at night, when all is dark except for a few city lights gleaming through the window; when the city is mostly quiet, except for high-pitched wails from a dog being beaten to death, in the distance.
Yes, beaten.
Why did your jaw just drop to the floor? Come on, what's wrong with that? It tenderizes it better when they beat the dog-meat while it's still alive, you know. Plus, the adrenaline that is excreted during the beating is good for male virility.
Totally justifiable, right??
It makes me want to quit teaching people how to speak English and teach them how to be humane, instead.
Seriously.
My God.
Yes, I'm very disturbed by the dog thing.
I've heard different stories; some have said that at one time, meat was not readily available so that is why they had to eat dog in the first place (which, personally, I have to understand, in a way, being a Libra and all), and that nowadays, it's typically older males (who are accustomed to eating it) that consume it.
Either way, it's still going on.
The weirdest part is that they also have dogs as household pets.
??!!
Well, I can't very well leave on such a note, so I will have you know that all in all, today was a good day, as I was able to score all kinds of hot bargains at the 1000-won shop (basically, the dollar store).
Maybe it's the small things in life that make us want to keep living (selfishly).
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Living Conditions
The place where I am living is basically a hotel. It's no Caesar's Palace in Vegas :) ; nonetheless, it is near a lot of shopping areas/movie theatres (I heard some are in English, even), and there's even a noribong (sp?) which is a place to sing karaoke. There are lots of other Native Speakers of English Teachers (NSETs) living there as well, which is good because it helps me to not feel so isolated.
Work (School)
I had a difficult time finding the school on the first day. There are basically no street names here (if there are, they are few and far between). And don't forget that it's not so easy to just stop and ask for directions when you don't speak the language fluently. :) So, if you want to come visit me at school, take a right out of the subway, cross over two alleyways, turn right at the Hyundai store (and don't think there's only one of those around here ;), then turn left at the first alley, turn right at the Japanese restaurant, and it's across the street from a little stationery store. See you next lifetime, huh?! ;)
Although it took me forEVer to find the school, overall, my first day at school was great! Everyone is so warm and welcoming. I had to broadcast an introduction of myself on the school TV while my co-teacher, Linda, translated. It's true that I used to want to be a movie star so maybe that was my moment of fame! ;)
I had to do basically the same thing at the teacher meeting after school, and that was even more awkward because I was standing in front of the room, in front of the entire faculty/staff for about 10 minutes while the V.P. talked about me. I'd just smile when they'd smile and I'd smile even bigger and blush when they'd laugh. Yes, laugh. Needless to say, I felt embarrassed and I walked back to my seat at the end of it all with sweaty palms and pits. lol. But it's all good. :)
I think this will be a fun teaching experience, although I think that maybe teaching the same lesson up to seven times MIGHT get old. haha. (Yes, I have seven groups of 6th graders! I also teach 3rd, 4th, & 5th.)
Food
The food has been fine, really, for the most part. I mean, you get random stuff here and there that you have to think twice about putting into your mouth, but the school lunches here are much more tasty than ones I've had in the States! Wednesdays are "special lunches." I wasn't sure whether I should have felt excited or anxious when I heard that news ;), but the "special" lunch today was actually quite yummy! :)
In the grocery store, near the produce section is a particular area which I found to be quite a sight. There are mounds and mounds of little dried fish. It's rather disgusting-looking, if you ask me. :) Linda told me that you can either eat them by themselves or add them to soups. I think I might pass on them completely unless I feel an intense desire to train for Fear Factor. :)
So far, my favorite foods here are: bulgogi (which is made of slices of beef in sauce) and bibimbap. Dictionary.com says: :) Bibimbap is served as a bowl of warm white rice topped with sauteed and seasoned vegetables, beef, a fried egg, and gochujang (chile pepper paste). (I couldn't have put it better. :) ) Kimchi (fermented vegetables) is probably the most popular food item here. I can only eat it in small doses. Korean meals are typically very healthy, so anyone who thought that I would waste-away this year, think again; I actually like the food. :) (Plus, my American friends and I have been able to find food that is more like the food at home, so that's good. I don't want Korean food 3x a day, that's for sure!)
Culture Quirks
I could go on and on and on about this topic, really... But I will only name a few for now. :) As a preface, I need to tell you that the day I was leaving for the airport, I realized I had procrastinated on filling out my luggage tags, so I quickly did that on the car ride there. The first pen I found was the one red one I own, so, naturally, that is the one I used. I quickly learned that in Korea, if you write someone's name in red ink, it basically means that it is putting a death curse on that person! My initial reaction to learning this was a fearful one, as flashbacks of a recent conversation amongst some family members regarding death swam through my head. I was thinking, "Oh my gosh, I'm going to be the next one in our family to die, all because I used a red pen to write my name! Ha!! Of course, I didn't really believe that, but the thought sure did toy with me. So, DON'T write anyone's name in red ink. :)
There are mopeds galore, here. Mopeds with trailers attached, overloaded with God knows what (fruits, flowers...I can't even think of what else I've seen on them) and I think you have to pass an insanity test (or, flunk a sanity test) in order to get your moped driver's license. They weave in and out from sidewalk to street, zooming down alleyways and racing down sidewalks, honking at you and everything else that breathes to steer clear of their path. I can't believe I have not yet a) seen anyone get slammed into, or b) been flattened by one, myself.
Okay, that's all I've got for now. I will add more when I can. I have to go to get my Alien Registration Card, now. :)
P.S. Who is D-Word? A kid told me today that look like D-word, unless he said I look like a character from D-Word. Clue me in if you know. :)
The place where I am living is basically a hotel. It's no Caesar's Palace in Vegas :) ; nonetheless, it is near a lot of shopping areas/movie theatres (I heard some are in English, even), and there's even a noribong (sp?) which is a place to sing karaoke. There are lots of other Native Speakers of English Teachers (NSETs) living there as well, which is good because it helps me to not feel so isolated.
Work (School)
I had a difficult time finding the school on the first day. There are basically no street names here (if there are, they are few and far between). And don't forget that it's not so easy to just stop and ask for directions when you don't speak the language fluently. :) So, if you want to come visit me at school, take a right out of the subway, cross over two alleyways, turn right at the Hyundai store (and don't think there's only one of those around here ;), then turn left at the first alley, turn right at the Japanese restaurant, and it's across the street from a little stationery store. See you next lifetime, huh?! ;)
Although it took me forEVer to find the school, overall, my first day at school was great! Everyone is so warm and welcoming. I had to broadcast an introduction of myself on the school TV while my co-teacher, Linda, translated. It's true that I used to want to be a movie star so maybe that was my moment of fame! ;)
I had to do basically the same thing at the teacher meeting after school, and that was even more awkward because I was standing in front of the room, in front of the entire faculty/staff for about 10 minutes while the V.P. talked about me. I'd just smile when they'd smile and I'd smile even bigger and blush when they'd laugh. Yes, laugh. Needless to say, I felt embarrassed and I walked back to my seat at the end of it all with sweaty palms and pits. lol. But it's all good. :)
I think this will be a fun teaching experience, although I think that maybe teaching the same lesson up to seven times MIGHT get old. haha. (Yes, I have seven groups of 6th graders! I also teach 3rd, 4th, & 5th.)
Food
The food has been fine, really, for the most part. I mean, you get random stuff here and there that you have to think twice about putting into your mouth, but the school lunches here are much more tasty than ones I've had in the States! Wednesdays are "special lunches." I wasn't sure whether I should have felt excited or anxious when I heard that news ;), but the "special" lunch today was actually quite yummy! :)
In the grocery store, near the produce section is a particular area which I found to be quite a sight. There are mounds and mounds of little dried fish. It's rather disgusting-looking, if you ask me. :) Linda told me that you can either eat them by themselves or add them to soups. I think I might pass on them completely unless I feel an intense desire to train for Fear Factor. :)
So far, my favorite foods here are: bulgogi (which is made of slices of beef in sauce) and bibimbap. Dictionary.com says: :) Bibimbap is served as a bowl of warm white rice topped with sauteed and seasoned vegetables, beef, a fried egg, and gochujang (chile pepper paste). (I couldn't have put it better. :) ) Kimchi (fermented vegetables) is probably the most popular food item here. I can only eat it in small doses. Korean meals are typically very healthy, so anyone who thought that I would waste-away this year, think again; I actually like the food. :) (Plus, my American friends and I have been able to find food that is more like the food at home, so that's good. I don't want Korean food 3x a day, that's for sure!)
Culture Quirks
I could go on and on and on about this topic, really... But I will only name a few for now. :) As a preface, I need to tell you that the day I was leaving for the airport, I realized I had procrastinated on filling out my luggage tags, so I quickly did that on the car ride there. The first pen I found was the one red one I own, so, naturally, that is the one I used. I quickly learned that in Korea, if you write someone's name in red ink, it basically means that it is putting a death curse on that person! My initial reaction to learning this was a fearful one, as flashbacks of a recent conversation amongst some family members regarding death swam through my head. I was thinking, "Oh my gosh, I'm going to be the next one in our family to die, all because I used a red pen to write my name! Ha!! Of course, I didn't really believe that, but the thought sure did toy with me. So, DON'T write anyone's name in red ink. :)
There are mopeds galore, here. Mopeds with trailers attached, overloaded with God knows what (fruits, flowers...I can't even think of what else I've seen on them) and I think you have to pass an insanity test (or, flunk a sanity test) in order to get your moped driver's license. They weave in and out from sidewalk to street, zooming down alleyways and racing down sidewalks, honking at you and everything else that breathes to steer clear of their path. I can't believe I have not yet a) seen anyone get slammed into, or b) been flattened by one, myself.
Okay, that's all I've got for now. I will add more when I can. I have to go to get my Alien Registration Card, now. :)
P.S. Who is D-Word? A kid told me today that look like D-word, unless he said I look like a character from D-Word. Clue me in if you know. :)
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Subconsciousness Unfurled
I always have these weird, random dreams, anymore.
Last night, I dreamed that I was over at my friend Chad's mom's house (which, in my dream, was a different house). There were several different scenarios throughout the dream, but the part I'm most confused about is the one I'm about to disclose. (Chad, remind me to tell you the part about the ashes as well as the part about you cutting my hair because Liz told you to do it. lol)
It was really strange; I was sitting on the couch, talking on my cell phone (I have no idea who I was talking to). There were a couple of children in the living room with me (I think they were Chad's nephews), and Chad and his sister were walking around me, doing random things throughout my phone conversation, like picking up toys, looking through a catalog, etc.
I hung up my cell, still holding it in my hand, and said something random to one of the kids in the living room. All of a sudden, I noticed smoke coming out from my phone. At first, I thought it must have just been my imagination, but I kept a close eye on it, and sure enough, it kept smoking more and more. The face started to pop off my phone and it started to freak me out, so I tossed it to the floor, gaping. I hollered for someone, anyone, to come, but no one seemed to notice that I was calling for help.
The flame leaped out, growing taller with each cry. My voice was shaking now, I was screaming for someone to bring me a fire extinguisher, I even begged with, "Pleeeaaase!"
No one budged.
Now desperate, my eyes frantically searched for another solution. I saw a towel resting on the back of a chair in the dining area, so I rushed over to it, snatched it up, and raced back to the fire, which had, by now, grown to knee-height and about two feet in diameter. I carefully laid the towel over it (the children were now watching as they leaned over the back of the couch) and started stomping out the fire. The fire capered; the flames darted around the edges of the worn towel. I bent down and folded another section of the towel over the rest of the flames and gravely stomped the rest of the flames out. When I realized the flames were no more, I carefully stepped back, still eyeballing the beat-up towel.
I then scampered around the corner, where I found Chad's sister, my voice shaking even more: "What were you doing?! Why didn't you come help me?" Not willing to wait for an answer, I grabbed her wrist to lead her to the fire site, as I frantically explained what had happened. When we got there, I clumsily tore the towel away from the fire. We stared in awe at the blackened circle where taupe carpet once had been. The look on her face showed shock, and I started crying.
Now, you know how dreams are - they race - and that sounds like a lot to happen in a dream, but my dreams are almost always like that (very detailed). When I first wake up, I can tell detail after detail about them. But I always wonder what made me dream a certain dream. I wonder even more about what my dreams mean.
I wonder what this one means? Do you think that maybe it means that I loathe my cell phone company? (Because I do :) ) Do you think it might mean that I talk on my phone and text way more than I should, and that's why it started smoking in the first place? Or do you think that it means something deeper, like maybe I need to always make sure I'm in a position to solve my own problems?
Whatever it means, I know that these strange, detailed dreams won't cease for a while; I always have them when something important is coming up, or when something drastic happens in my life.
Sweet dreams, all...
Last night, I dreamed that I was over at my friend Chad's mom's house (which, in my dream, was a different house). There were several different scenarios throughout the dream, but the part I'm most confused about is the one I'm about to disclose. (Chad, remind me to tell you the part about the ashes as well as the part about you cutting my hair because Liz told you to do it. lol)
It was really strange; I was sitting on the couch, talking on my cell phone (I have no idea who I was talking to). There were a couple of children in the living room with me (I think they were Chad's nephews), and Chad and his sister were walking around me, doing random things throughout my phone conversation, like picking up toys, looking through a catalog, etc.
I hung up my cell, still holding it in my hand, and said something random to one of the kids in the living room. All of a sudden, I noticed smoke coming out from my phone. At first, I thought it must have just been my imagination, but I kept a close eye on it, and sure enough, it kept smoking more and more. The face started to pop off my phone and it started to freak me out, so I tossed it to the floor, gaping. I hollered for someone, anyone, to come, but no one seemed to notice that I was calling for help.
The flame leaped out, growing taller with each cry. My voice was shaking now, I was screaming for someone to bring me a fire extinguisher, I even begged with, "Pleeeaaase!"
No one budged.
Now desperate, my eyes frantically searched for another solution. I saw a towel resting on the back of a chair in the dining area, so I rushed over to it, snatched it up, and raced back to the fire, which had, by now, grown to knee-height and about two feet in diameter. I carefully laid the towel over it (the children were now watching as they leaned over the back of the couch) and started stomping out the fire. The fire capered; the flames darted around the edges of the worn towel. I bent down and folded another section of the towel over the rest of the flames and gravely stomped the rest of the flames out. When I realized the flames were no more, I carefully stepped back, still eyeballing the beat-up towel.
I then scampered around the corner, where I found Chad's sister, my voice shaking even more: "What were you doing?! Why didn't you come help me?" Not willing to wait for an answer, I grabbed her wrist to lead her to the fire site, as I frantically explained what had happened. When we got there, I clumsily tore the towel away from the fire. We stared in awe at the blackened circle where taupe carpet once had been. The look on her face showed shock, and I started crying.
Now, you know how dreams are - they race - and that sounds like a lot to happen in a dream, but my dreams are almost always like that (very detailed). When I first wake up, I can tell detail after detail about them. But I always wonder what made me dream a certain dream. I wonder even more about what my dreams mean.
I wonder what this one means? Do you think that maybe it means that I loathe my cell phone company? (Because I do :) ) Do you think it might mean that I talk on my phone and text way more than I should, and that's why it started smoking in the first place? Or do you think that it means something deeper, like maybe I need to always make sure I'm in a position to solve my own problems?
Whatever it means, I know that these strange, detailed dreams won't cease for a while; I always have them when something important is coming up, or when something drastic happens in my life.
Sweet dreams, all...
Friday, August 3, 2007
Feeling Seoulful
So...how do you pack for a year when venturing to a country that doesn't have a lot of what you might need...? I'm slowly catching on, thank goodness, while I'm on this side of the world.
Aside from the research I've done on the 'net, I've also got human resources dipping their hand into the Help-Catie Basket. The most recent being D. (I don't know how "private" I should be on this public blog, so just in case, I won't disclose his full name. Paranoid? Possibly...)
A guy from Burlington, who was a couple-to-few years ahead of me in school, D. (I graduated with his brother), has been in South Korea for about two years, teaching English. I don't know him all that well - what I remember most about him was how ridiculously intelligent he was (is), and just as nice. Not a bad contact to have, 'eh? :)
At any rate, I have been able to get a hold of him via Cyberland. I'll give a quick run-down on what he has told me, thus far.
First, he hates Seoul. Grrreat. ;) I haven't pried the reasons out of him yet, but I'm sure that will come, with time. I, myself, hate - oops, Mrs. Price doesn't like that word - abhor big cities, so I am fully aware that Seoul may leave a bad taste in my mouth, in that respect. I can live with that.
He did suggest that I purchase a scooter ("You can get a decent one for about 500 bucks.") to save money in my transportation envelope, but one of the things I ha- ...er, despise, most about large cities is the drivers. Why would I do that to myself, especially on two wheels instead of four? We'll see how public transportation treats me, first. :)
He also told me to stock up on deodorant, cold meds, allergy meds, and...(thank you for this information, D.) tampons! It did cross my mind to take a year's worth of my choice of such. (...As a flashback of my trip to Ireland surged through my head, when I did not prepare for such an occurrence. When I got one out of the vending machine in the bathroom of a local pub, I felt like I was playing with a Rubiks Cube in the bathroom stall.) But then I nixed that thought with a big, fat, red X, telling myself, "You're ridiculous." Now, thanks to D., I will have to take an extra suitcase full of those cotton stick thingies. ;) lol. (T.M.I. for some of you, I know, but this is my blog, so deal...)
I'd heard about soju, thinking, "Oh, I bet that's a pleasant-tasting rice wine of some sort. That might be nice to try..." Here's what D. had to say: "The beer is terrible and rather expensive unless you drink it by the pitcher in bars. Soju is the Devil's work and should be consumed only if you're broke. It's a cheap alcohol and even more cheaply distilled which means it will cripple your brain." Kudos to D.; the last thing I need to have in a country of which I barely speak the language and, at this point, have no working knowlege of the area in which I'll be living, is a crippled brain.
I know I can be a sissy sometimes, but I will admit that as the days flutter away from me, and my departure date creeps up on me, my gut gets a little tighter and tighter. You have no idea how much tension it eased to receive that email from D., especially when he gave his phone number and offered to meet me when I get there, to have a "tete a tete." What a standup guy, 'eh? I want to tell my former principal that he was right: Chivalry is not dead. :) (D. will be in Chuncheon, South Korea, through the beginning of Oct., so that gives me about a month to have a contact so I can easily settle.) Phew.
Until the next time...
Aside from the research I've done on the 'net, I've also got human resources dipping their hand into the Help-Catie Basket. The most recent being D. (I don't know how "private" I should be on this public blog, so just in case, I won't disclose his full name. Paranoid? Possibly...)
A guy from Burlington, who was a couple-to-few years ahead of me in school, D. (I graduated with his brother), has been in South Korea for about two years, teaching English. I don't know him all that well - what I remember most about him was how ridiculously intelligent he was (is), and just as nice. Not a bad contact to have, 'eh? :)
At any rate, I have been able to get a hold of him via Cyberland. I'll give a quick run-down on what he has told me, thus far.
First, he hates Seoul. Grrreat. ;) I haven't pried the reasons out of him yet, but I'm sure that will come, with time. I, myself, hate - oops, Mrs. Price doesn't like that word - abhor big cities, so I am fully aware that Seoul may leave a bad taste in my mouth, in that respect. I can live with that.
He did suggest that I purchase a scooter ("You can get a decent one for about 500 bucks.") to save money in my transportation envelope, but one of the things I ha- ...er, despise, most about large cities is the drivers. Why would I do that to myself, especially on two wheels instead of four? We'll see how public transportation treats me, first. :)
He also told me to stock up on deodorant, cold meds, allergy meds, and...(thank you for this information, D.) tampons! It did cross my mind to take a year's worth of my choice of such. (...As a flashback of my trip to Ireland surged through my head, when I did not prepare for such an occurrence. When I got one out of the vending machine in the bathroom of a local pub, I felt like I was playing with a Rubiks Cube in the bathroom stall.) But then I nixed that thought with a big, fat, red X, telling myself, "You're ridiculous." Now, thanks to D., I will have to take an extra suitcase full of those cotton stick thingies. ;) lol. (T.M.I. for some of you, I know, but this is my blog, so deal...)
I'd heard about soju, thinking, "Oh, I bet that's a pleasant-tasting rice wine of some sort. That might be nice to try..." Here's what D. had to say: "The beer is terrible and rather expensive unless you drink it by the pitcher in bars. Soju is the Devil's work and should be consumed only if you're broke. It's a cheap alcohol and even more cheaply distilled which means it will cripple your brain." Kudos to D.; the last thing I need to have in a country of which I barely speak the language and, at this point, have no working knowlege of the area in which I'll be living, is a crippled brain.
I know I can be a sissy sometimes, but I will admit that as the days flutter away from me, and my departure date creeps up on me, my gut gets a little tighter and tighter. You have no idea how much tension it eased to receive that email from D., especially when he gave his phone number and offered to meet me when I get there, to have a "tete a tete." What a standup guy, 'eh? I want to tell my former principal that he was right: Chivalry is not dead. :) (D. will be in Chuncheon, South Korea, through the beginning of Oct., so that gives me about a month to have a contact so I can easily settle.) Phew.
Until the next time...
Monday, July 30, 2007
Preparation or Trepidation?
I have decided to blog my Korean experience, and what better time to begin than 24 days before my departure date?
I start to get hot and my armpits get itchy and my heart flutters then pounds when I think about it. It's so close. I'm going to barely have time to turn around and then wham! be plowed into a thick cloud of unfamiliarity. For an entire year, even. No going back now. Not that I'd want to.
How do you pack for a year?
Will I fit in with a culture that is so different from the one I'm used to?
How do you leave your significant other of 3 years+ for that long?
These questions, and many more, will soon linger into answers. Care to join me on my journey?
I start to get hot and my armpits get itchy and my heart flutters then pounds when I think about it. It's so close. I'm going to barely have time to turn around and then wham! be plowed into a thick cloud of unfamiliarity. For an entire year, even. No going back now. Not that I'd want to.
How do you pack for a year?
Will I fit in with a culture that is so different from the one I'm used to?
How do you leave your significant other of 3 years+ for that long?
These questions, and many more, will soon linger into answers. Care to join me on my journey?
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