Korean children do not celebrate Hallowe'en, and the only thing they think they're missing is the loads and loads of free candy and chocolate. They're under the assumption that that's the be all and end all of Hallowe'en.
Tomorrow I'm going to show them that they are wrong, that there is something more important than a pillowcase full of candy. There is something I looked forward to more than the costumes and candyapples, more than going door to door hoping that the elderly lady or man would dish out FULL SIZE CHOCOLATE BAR, more than staying up passed my childhood bed time...
I thing I looked forward to the most was The Simpons's TREEHOUSE OF HORRORS.
I'm planning on showing them Treehouse of Horrors V, the one where they parady the "Shinning," where Homer travels back through time, and where the teachers end up cooking and eating the children (coincidentally, the most likely location for a Korean horror film is in the classroom/school--which says something about how school is viewed here, but more on that later).
I hope they love these magnificent specials as much as I do.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Updates 1 and 2 Revisited, remixed, redeux, etc
I kind of want to keep everything in one place, so I'm going to post the last two huge updates here...but this time with pictures!
Update 1:
I arrived in Busan on Monday night. My recruiter picked me up from the airport and took me to my apartment. The apartment is pretty standard with what most foreign teachers get: bed, tv, AC, half a stove, washer that also acts as a dryer (but it just spins clothes around as a form of drying), etc. I got lucky because mine also came with a futon – a hot commodity, apparently. My only problem was that it was pretty dirty, and required a lot of cleaning. Though I complained to my school and they’re going to get it professionally cleaned. My apartment also came with a partition for the shower. Most apartments, like Kiran’s and James’s, only have a shower head sticking out of the wall and a drain in the corner of the bathroom, which is the leading cause of water in places where water isn't supposed to go.
PICTURES OF MY PLACE:
I live right beside Kiran and James. As soon as Kiran and James got word I arrived, they showed up outside my door with beer. They then proceeded to take me to this bar where you can get 1.5L pitchers of beer for, I think, $3 (basically 1000 Won is about $1CDN), and beer that comes in very tall glasses – to the point where you have to stand up to take a sip. Needless to say I was slightly hungover on my first day on the job. Actually, I was hungover for the first three days on the job.
I don’t have to be at the school until ~2:30pm, and I’m out of the school by 8:25pm. I teach six 45-minute classes a day, with 5 to 10 minute breaks in between classes. My first class doesn’t start until 3:15, but the school wants us there early to prepare for the day’s lessons. However, the preparation doesn’t require a lot of work; it just requires you to find out what lesson from what workbook you’re teaching to what class. The school’s very disorganized, however, and I’ve already had classes with nothing to do. In those cases I either just play games with the children (hangman is like their candy) or give them word searches to keep them occupied. I’m apparently filling the shoes of a really shitty foreign teacher who, for the last two or three months, did bugger all – thus my kids aren’t keen on learning a lot of the time and just want “pleasure time” – their words. Other lessons consist of just reading to them, and getting them to read to me so I can correct their pronunciation.
My actual first day of teaching was…on Tuesday. They provided me with no training, which was weird, but my other co-workers were really nice about showing me the i
ns and outs of the school in an hour. It’s a really, really easy job, and the kids are ridiculously cute. I teach four classes of “Howdys,” which are kids who know very little English. I also teach one beginner class and one intermediate class. The intermediate class is my least favourite because the kids have, like, attitude.
Alcohol is dangerously cheap here, and you can drink just about anywhere. When you purchase, say, a large bottle of beer at the convenient store, they open it for you. You can, if you so desire, take this purchased alcohol into a cab where you can pre-drink in the cab ride to wherever it is you’re going. If you happen to not finish the large bottle of beer before you get to your final destination, there is no need to worry: you can take this alcohol with you into the club.
The food is pretty good. Ghalbi, or Korean BBQ, is my favourite. Kiran and James took me to this one ghalbi place that for some reason had McDs chairs on their patio. (“I guess a good way to cut down on your costs is to steal from your competition.”) You sit around a BBQ built into the table, and cook your meet, which usually is pork marinated in something awesome. You also grill garnishes like onion, cloves of garlic, kimchi. You then take a large leaf, stuff it with the meat and garnishes, fold it as best you can into a ‘bite sized’ piece, and then shove it in your mouth. The result is an orgasm with your tongue getting the full benefits (instead of , say, your private parts). Oh, man, that shit is good. I still haven’t tried dog, but when I do, I’ll be sure to let you all know.
Koreans have an amazing sense of style – a lot of guys dress really, really well. And the guys carry purses. A lot of pretty boys, if you will. And it’s not uncommon to see two boys or men walking arm in arm. The most adorable thing I’ve seen in the class is this one boy taking his friend’s arm, and wrapping it around himself. This can happen because homosexuality doesn’t really exist here. – not that it doesn’t exist, but, rather, it’s really repressed. But, yeah, some of the boys are really good looking. Well, actually, when a Korean is good looking, he’s extremely /good looking/.
As a result of this lack of homosexuality, my gaydar needs to be recalibrated here. I was dancing with this somewhat hot Korean and he was all, “you move so good! You…are a sex machine!” the whole while he had his arms around me and the like. Back home that would be a sign of getting some, but not here. They’re a very touchy feely culture.
Kiran and James took Dave and I to a bathhouse that bills itself as the biggest bathhouse in Asia. When the initial awkwardness of being naked in front of everyone wears off (“Yup, we’re naked and hanging out naked”), it’s a crazy freeing experience. You eventually ignore the sea of penises (THERE ARE SO MANY PENISES) and can really enjoy yourself, and the camaraderie that I guess goes with the nakedness. There is a range of spas ranging from the ridiculously hot (57 degrees was the highest—you couldn’t even step foot into that pool) to the refreshingly cool (there as no temperature posted, but it was easily close to 12 degrees – major shrinkage happens in that one). There was also this waterfall/stream of water that acts as a massager. It was crazy relaxing, and a perfect hangover cure. Again, this can exist because homosexuality is really repressed. People can clean each other in the showers, or just hang out naked because, yeah, there’s no way you could be attracted to the same sex. I couldn’t imagine having a bathhouse in Canada - well, I can, but it’s for an entirely different purpose.
The cabs here are ridiculously cheap. A 30-minute ride costs maybe 12 bucks. But I think that must come at the cost of the drivers driving like a crazy person with a death wish. Speed limits (and to some extent road signs and the markings on the road) are only a suggestion, and the horn is just an extension of their craziness. On one of my cab rides the driver was falling asleep. He’d doze off at every red light, and at one point we had to tap his shoulder because his eyelids were closed AS he was driving at about 70 or 80 km/h. I’ve also seen a cabby with a TV on the dashboard so he can, I guess, watch and drive.
I think one of the biggest culture shocks is EVERYONE IS KOREAN.
It’s such a homogeneous environment. And they couldn’t grasp the idea of a multicultural nation. You can’t be “Indian American” – it’s either one or the other. One of the homework questions I was checking was, “when you grow up, would you like to live in Korea or elsewhere, and why?” 98% of the students had an answer along the lines of, “Korea! Because Korea is awesome!” I remember when I was young and had a question like that, most of the class said other places other than Canada. Those 98% of students had never left the country as well. And being a foreigner here means everyone will stare at you. My favourite moment happened in the grocery store: everyone would stare at me, and then stare at my cart to see, I guess, what foreigners buy and eat.
Um, what else. I went to my first casino! Actually, pair of casino/s/. Dave took me to two of them, where I lost $100 at 8.30am in the morning. BUT I love roulette. It’s awesome. And you can also gamble at WAR.
Oh, and skinny dipping in the ocean, at 3am when you’re drunk off your face is a very bonding experience. We were all wrecked, but the ocean was awesome. In the distance you could see the rest of Busan, lit up almost like a colorful birthday cake that also had Christmas lights wrapped around the baked good.
Korea, I think I love you.
Anyways, this is getting long, and I think it’s a little all over the place. I miss you guys terribly, and I’m excited for the ones that may possibly visit! I hope you’re all doing well, and that you don’t miss me too much.
OH! And the t-shirts here! They’re amazing, and cheap. I just recently purchased one that has an old school dude from the 50s pointing outwards, and underneath it says, “you made me gay.” There are also shirts that say, “I heart black people.” And there are other shirts where the English is just atrocious (“You Hot Make Me” or “Very Sweetie Pie”), but it /is/ Korea so they definitely know what they’re doing.
Also, although the beer is cheap, it sucks. No more Rickard’s Red or White, or Stella, or MGD
Update 2:
It’s me again! Hope you don’t mind.
One of the things I’m kind of disappointed in, here in Korea, is their level of spiciness. I was told to expect some of the hottest foods, but so far nothing really stands out in terms of hot and spicy. That could be, however, because I’m white, and they are sometimes known for toning down the levels of spiciness for foreigners. But one day, at the beginning of class, some of my students came in, sat down, then immediately shot back up and asked to get water. “Water! Water!” they’d say while pointing to their mouths. I think one of my students saw the curiosity on my face, and offered me a piece of what they were allegedly eating. I can’t remember what it was called, but it was some meat covered in a thick, deep red sauce. I used the toothpick to grab the last piece and put it in my mouth. All the students watched, I guess, to see the reaction of a foreigner to this crazy hot food that has them all in a water-quenching quest…nothing. I can be liberal here and say it was just under being moderately spicy, but nothing to what I was expecting. I started to teach the lesson of the day, but before I could continue one of them said, “you? Water?” When I shook my head no, the entire class was blown away. But, hey, they could just be pulling my chain so they have a weekly excuse to get out of class and hang out by the water cooler.
It is pretty well known in Korea that Koreans have a hard time telling white people apart – they all look the same to them. I experienced this first hand when I went to the casino. After drinking cheap beer at the beer tents near the ocean, it was decided we should all go to the casino at like 3 in the morning. When I got there, I realized I didn’t have my passport because I had handed that into the school so they could get me an alien immigration card. Kiran told me not to worry. The plan was the group was all going to get in, and then Kiran would leave with someone’s alien card and meet me outside the casino so he could give it to me. So, yeah, we put that plan in action. The picture on the card looks /nothing/ like me, and there would be no way this would pass at a bar or casino in North America. I think the only thing going for me was we both didn’t have facial hair, and we shared the same hair colour. So I go in, and the traditional asking for ID takes place. She takes a long, seemingly hard look at the ID, looks up, smiles at me, and then lets me in. I…was dumbfounded. Drunk, I giggled and proceeded to gamble.
So it turns out squatters are more common than toilets, which at first was a little disconcerting to me. I don’t know – a toilet has everything going for it: you can plant yourself down and the bowl will take anything you give it. To me, there are too many things that can go wrong with a squatter. Most of the time there’s only a string to help you hover over the laughably small porcelain god. I’m just glad I haven’t had to use one yet, because I do fear a slip of the foot on the wet floor will be the cause for me falling in. Another fear would be things not ending up where you want them. A friend was telling me when she first used it she ended up pee on her leg. Guys don’t really have that problem, but I’d much rather deal with urine than, well, you know. Maybe if you’re lucky to remember to purchase the 20-cent toilet paper things might go your way. The one thing I can say I’ve done since I’ve been here, however, is shit in the bush. On a hiking trip, “the toilet is everywhere,” – as said by a Korean guide as he waved his arms about in a semi-circular motion, indicating, I guess, that nature will take whatever you give it. And, well, you best not be ignoring nature calls. I won’t go into all the nitty-gritty details of my experience. I will say, however, that things look a little different after.
One day I had made plans to go to Gyoung-jew (phonetic spelling)– a city that holds some of the oldest temples in Asia - with a friend (Steph) because we had the day off. We were supposed to be up and ready to leave at a relatively early hour, but we were both at that casino until like 5:30am.
I was told that you could never expect to get a lot of sleep in Korea on the weekends, and I’m slowly realizing this is true – especially when there was the knock on my door at 10am, with Steph on the other side, asking me if I was ready to go. After having maybe ten minutes to get ready, we made our way to the bus terminal (which was about an hour away on the subway, which sucked in my condition). Now, Gyoungjew is about an hour away from Busan. How much do you think that would cost - an hour’s travel time on the bus – back in Canada? IT WAS $4 HERE. And the crazy thing was that the bus was like…a first class
bus! Leg room galore! And you could recline backwards, to the point you were maybe 20 degrees above the horizontal! Needless to say I was able to sleep some of the hangover off on this relaxing bus.
The first thing we did when we got there was make our way to one of the oldest temples, the name of which escapes me right now. The scenery was breathtaking, and the temple was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. One of the striking things was the rich colour this temple was encased in. Even the pathways leading up to the temple was incredibly picturesque and almost monumental with the trees and rocks raising high above the ground. We then made our way to another temple, which housed one of the oldest statues of Buddha. This temple was way high up in the mountain, so the view down was awesome. Each temple had spring water flowing out of a beautiful statue, and there were plastic scoop-cup-things for the public to drink out of.
On the way back we made sure to hit this park where the kings from various dynasties were buried. The tombs looked like a giant round mound of earth, and with the lot of them it looked like a very hilly area. I didn’t know what they were at first, and wanted to climb up one of them. I was then told that that kind of thing is frowned upon. That struck me as odd, but then I was told they were tombs and all made sense again.
On the fourth of July, Independence day, there was a rooftop party held in the country’s honour. It was unlike any rooftop party I’ve been to because it was on top of this 24-story building. At first this crazy fog cover enveloped the city below, but it was slowly washed aside from the constant warm wind blowing in from the mountains, and more and more of the city lights peaked through the fog. It was as if there was this sheet being pulled over the city. I didn’t end up going to bed until maybe 5:30am (it’s weird: drinking to all hours of the night is the norm here and it isn’t fueled by drugs), which was dumb because I had signed up for a hike and I needed to be up and ready by 9:00am sharp.
The hike, I think, has been one of the best experiences so far in Korea. A middle-aged Korean, who is legendary for planning amazing excursions for foreigners, and his friend, who went by the name of Sam Chom (which meant uncle), guided the hike. (Actually, the literal translation of Samchom is three hop, and a hop, according to him, was a jump in the family lineage. So the first hop was from him to his father. The second hop was from his father to his grandfather. And the third jump was from his grandfather to his uncle.) The mountain, called 1000 Saint Mountain, we climbed was an hour outside of Busan, and they had rented a van for us to travel in. The van drove us half way up the mountain (“Easiest hike I’ve ever done”) and stopped at this Gazebo overlooking the city. On the way there I still felt a little drunk, and made the crack, “so this is what it’s going to feel like hiking drunk.” As it turns out, there’s a Korean custom where you drink BEFORE you hike to pray for no injuries and good luck on your journey. Once at the Gazebo, the two Koreans took out all the food and alcohol they purchased, and thus began a drunken feast. Now, back in Canada, one would think an alcohol fueled hike is bad luck and would cause some injury to the drunken hikers. Not here – not in the least.
While we stuffed our faces with food and alcohol, the Koreans explained some customary rituals, like the one of the receiving and giving of drinks. It’s a sign of respect to receive or give alcohol with two hands – The left hand is simply placed just below the right hand’s wrist, on the forearm. This is because, back in the day, the ancient garbs people wore had really long sleeves, and they would have to use their free hand to tighten up, so to speak, the sleeve to make sure it didn’t flop into the drinks/food. If you’re younger and you’re giving or receiving a drink to/from an elder, you must use two hands. If you’re pouring a drink to someone for the first time, you must use two hands, even if it’s the elder giving/receiving the drink. Out of the group of people I went with, I was the oldest, so I only had to use two hands when pouring drinks to our guides. Everyone else had to show me respect, and I made damn sure I commanded that shit. Another custom is you must always, /always/ take care of your neighbor (and this was heavily enforced). If you received a drink from an elder, you must repay the favour when you’re finished your drink. (We… drank a lot on this hiking trip.)
After our bellies were full (and our vision doubled up), we were on our way over the mountain. The scenery was lush with greenery, and I heard the sounds of bugs and birds that I’ve never heard before. The trail we stuck on was moderate to intense, and it mostly criss-crossed over this stream that flows down from the mountain. There was more spring water “taps” – the taps being hoses coming out of the mountain and fresh spring water coming out (“Fill your water bottles with this and you will live a long life!”).
Our trail broke through to a motherfucking waterfall. The guides decided this would be a good place to set up for another picnic, and we happily obliged. This time they pulled out ghalbi and their small gas frying pans. They cooked, we drank, we ate, we drank. At the beginning, when we first got a glimpse of how much alcohol they got (bottles and bottles of beer, soju, and this rice wine), we questioned if we were actually going to finish it all. After a few “one shots” (where you have to finish whatever is in your cup in one take), we realized they might have brought too little. At one point a cricket fell onto my hat, jumped into someone’s glass of soju, and then jumped right into the frying pan. The bug was fried pretty good, and I thought that was the perfect time to try cricket. I picked him out with chopsticks, dipped it in a bit of salt, and then in it went into my mouth. I gotta tell you: pretty good. I think the marinade made out of soju did the trick, and the fat from the ghalbi gave it a nice finishing flavour.
After lunch we changed into our bathing suits, AND PLAYED IN THE MOTHERFUCKING WATERFALL. I can’t describe how refreshing it was to just sit/lay underneath the heavy stream of water. Anything that could have been weighing you down would have just been swept away with the downpour.
We continued on our hike. Sam Chon wanted to take us to his “special place” that no foreigner knew about and few if any Koreans knew about. As we’re hiking along the relatively thin path, Sam Chon just veered to the right, into a thick bamboo-like forest. “Follow me!” We just kind of looked at each other, but shrugged our shoulders and followed. After maybe ten minutes of hiking through these bamboo sticks jutting out of the ground, we finally broke through to this magical-looking pond, with a mini-waterfall by its side, making sure this pond was always full. We were so far removed from society. Of course our two guides broke out more food (this time dumplings) and even more alcohol. We swam and played in the pond while the guides cooked for us. There was a rock that acted like a slide into the pond, and if you wanted a ride, you could swim up close to the mini-waterfall, and grab a rock for support, then jump in and be carried away by the strong current.
As the hike went on, there were more and more pit stops. At one point we decided to lie down on these flat-looking rocks and half a quick power nap, as the water rushed by us.
As we walked down our final path, each of us good and tipsy, we noticed the trees dancing for us. Their roots clenched to the ground as their leaves and branches swung to and fro to a silent beat.
I don’t know how many people have eaten out (with) Cindy, but it was sometimes kind of an embarrassing outing. She’d be rude to the waiters and didn’t like tipping that much. If
something popped into her mind about what she wanted, she’d scream for a waiter and force them to listen to her, even if they had their arms full of piping hot food. When giving her order, she’d sound almost condescending. Well, that’s kind of the norm here; you shout “yo-gee-yo” (here) to get someone’s attention to serve you no matter what they’re doing. And there’s no tipping anywhere (not with cabs, not at bars, etc). Some restaurants even have a “yo-gee-yo” button attached somewhere to the table so you can always bring a waiter to you. Her rudeness is what’s expected here at restaurants. I told her how much she fits in here. And it took me awhile to stray away from saying “excuse me” if you want a waiter’s attention. I gotta say, Cindy was on to something.
Baseball is huge here. Huge. The crowd will go absolutely nuts if someone just lands on first base. Or there will be a wave that goes around a few times – or several waves going around at once. And if you’re a foreigner singing the cheers…well, they just love that and will give you free drinks as a result. (Not that you need free drinks, mind you; the alcohol is like $2 a can, or $5 for a pitcher). And they also have these weird contests projected on the big screen. One involved fathers swinging their children all over their body in some sort of acrobatic gesture.
I’ve realized that the best way to learn from a culture is through its children; they’re going to reflect whatever they’ve been exposed to or what’s been imparted on them. For example, one of the homework questions was the following: What do you love about Korea, what don’t you love about Korea, and why? What do you love about other countries, what don’t you love about other countries, and why? Obviously (or not so obviously) every single child in my intermediate class did not have anything bad to say about their country. “I love Korea because Korea is awesome,” or “I love Korea because they have delicious food.” After really fishing for something they didn’t like, the children finally broke this, like, oath to proclaim they didn’t like their current “king of Korea.” Why? Because he’s importing USA beef, or “crazy cows.” (The children were actually shocked when they found out that I, in fact, knew what mad cow disease was, which just goes to show how xenocentric they are – hell, they think Korea is the only land which experiences four seasons). The fact that there have only been three mad cow-related deaths notwithstanding, or that it was actually in the UK where shit really went down, I was really curious where they got their information. “Images! On TV!” one of them said. “…the news?” “Yes, teacher!”
Not to long ago I came across (or, rather, was told about) a political cartoon in a brochure given to kids. It involved a cafeteria worker heading out sticks of dynamite to the children. This isn’t an actual health issue for them – it’s a total nationalistic issue. There have been demonstrations and protests of thousands, if not tens of thousands of Koreans up in arms over this. Koreans want Korean things, and think anything they do or create is the best decision. I guess that’s why there are so many incorrectly spelled signs all over Korea: Mariage for a bridal store; Eglish for an English school. They don’t need spell check or someone to check it for them – if a Korean made it, it’s right. I was going to scare the kids and tell them that mad cow disease can lay dormant in the body before reeking havoc, but I didn’t (mostly because they wouldn’t know what dormant meant.
The second part of the question – involving other countries – was more interesting…at least I thought so. I remember in younger grades, when I was being asked these kinds of questions, there would never be a part asking “what didn’t you like about other countries.” Because, I guess, Canada was so multi-cultural, they didn’t want to foster a negative environment for negative comments about other countries to surface. “I don’t like Africa because of the dark skin and flies,” “China, because anything that says ‘made in China’ breaks easily.” They’re also convinced that all Chinese food has bugs and “mouse heads” in it. Curious, because some of the Korean food is, well, bugs. I had one kid surprise me, because she said she really liked Japan, and that they made quality goods. This was in stark contrast of another kid who said he liked North Korea because he could get dynamite there and throw it at Japan.
Kiran had a question involving, “if you were Cupid, who would you match up?” Some serious answers were given, but then the children started being sillier. “A cat with a dog!” and the class would giggle. This went on for some time, until a girl said, “a boy and another boy!” After Kiran asked what two boys, and the girl replied, “any two!” and the class erupted in laughter. Obviously two boys being together is as crazy as interspecies couplings.
Lo and behold, there /is/ a gay district in Busan. I’ve never been there, but apparently it’s awkward because all the Koreans there will be incredibly shy and won’t talk to one another. There are even bathhouses like the ones in Canada close by…though one of them is run out of a guy’s house.
A big part of my job is to help the kids with the proper pronunciation of words. They mix up their Rs and Ls, Bs and Vs, and, more humorously, Zs and Js – and I’m supposed to fix that. One of the sentences in a book was, “Oh, look! There’s a zoo in the park!” 90% of the children said that in a way that made me giggle. “Teacher, why laugh?” Oh, how do you even begin to explain.
Because of all this pronunciation, every class now knows about my tongue piercing. Oh, man, the reactions. They’re really curious so they’re always going, “go ah! Go ah!”, wanting to get a closer look. At first there was a lot of screams, and one girl would even go as far as dry heaving. “Teacher, why?! Teacher, why?!” But I think the shock has worn off now. They still ask me to “go ah” a lot of the times, but they no longer scream; instead they want to get a really good look, and one even wanted to touch it. (No, I didn’t let them if that’s what you’re thinking).
Y’know, I’m sure most of you are aware of my current stance of children and never wanting to have one. But after all this time spent with my kindergarten children…they’re kind of growing on me. They’re so fun to be with! I can sing stupid songs or, well, act like a child and they all love it! Maybe if I could have one that never grows up to be a fuck-ass teenager with all this attitude and ability to not cooperate with anyone/thing. We’ll see, I guess. Maybe science will come to a point where you could genetically alter a child so they stay that way.
James, Kiran and I, at one point in a night, had $2 beers from the beer tent and were sitting on the beach, surveying the area. The waves were crashing and rushing up to meet our feet, there were pockets of other Koreans heavily peppering the beach, ranging from two to 15 people big, laughing, drinking, having a good time, and the colourful sights and sounds of a boisterous city ready to simmer down for the night were behind us. The darkness of the sky meeting the ocean were drawing our gaze, and at one point we broke away, looked at each other just before we clinked our beer glasses and exclaimed, this is the fucking life.
But, still, strong feelings of nostalgia resurface as we discuss about our respective and shared friends and old experiences, wishing more were here to join us (or at least visit). Miss you fuckers like crazy.
I still have a ton of shit to say, including the shit show that was Mud Fest. In brief, there’s a lot of mud, there’s a lot of alcohol, there’s a mud slide, there’s a mud jail, there’s a mud parade, there’s a beach, there are fireworks, there are five people crammed to a bed, there’s someone getting knocked unconscious because of a nose dive down a slide that turned out to be deflated, etc. But this is already ridiculously long, and I’m not sure how many people even made it this far. Again, I miss you all.
Much, much love, and I hope everyone is doing superbly. Keep your updates coming!
Love love love love
James
xoxoxo
Update 1:
I arrived in Busan on Monday night. My recruiter picked me up from the airport and took me to my apartment. The apartment is pretty standard with what most foreign teachers get: bed, tv, AC, half a stove, washer that also acts as a dryer (but it just spins clothes around as a form of drying), etc. I got lucky because mine also came with a futon – a hot commodity, apparently. My only problem was that it was pretty dirty, and required a lot of cleaning. Though I complained to my school and they’re going to get it professionally cleaned. My apartment also came with a partition for the shower. Most apartments, like Kiran’s and James’s, only have a shower head sticking out of the wall and a drain in the corner of the bathroom, which is the leading cause of water in places where water isn't supposed to go.
PICTURES OF MY PLACE:
I live right beside Kiran and James. As soon as Kiran and James got word I arrived, they showed up outside my door with beer. They then proceeded to take me to this bar where you can get 1.5L pitchers of beer for, I think, $3 (basically 1000 Won is about $1CDN), and beer that comes in very tall glasses – to the point where you have to stand up to take a sip. Needless to say I was slightly hungover on my first day on the job. Actually, I was hungover for the first three days on the job.
I don’t have to be at the school until ~2:30pm, and I’m out of the school by 8:25pm. I teach six 45-minute classes a day, with 5 to 10 minute breaks in between classes. My first class doesn’t start until 3:15, but the school wants us there early to prepare for the day’s lessons. However, the preparation doesn’t require a lot of work; it just requires you to find out what lesson from what workbook you’re teaching to what class. The school’s very disorganized, however, and I’ve already had classes with nothing to do. In those cases I either just play games with the children (hangman is like their candy) or give them word searches to keep them occupied. I’m apparently filling the shoes of a really shitty foreign teacher who, for the last two or three months, did bugger all – thus my kids aren’t keen on learning a lot of the time and just want “pleasure time” – their words. Other lessons consist of just reading to them, and getting them to read to me so I can correct their pronunciation.
My actual first day of teaching was…on Tuesday. They provided me with no training, which was weird, but my other co-workers were really nice about showing me the i
ns and outs of the school in an hour. It’s a really, really easy job, and the kids are ridiculously cute. I teach four classes of “Howdys,” which are kids who know very little English. I also teach one beginner class and one intermediate class. The intermediate class is my least favourite because the kids have, like, attitude.Alcohol is dangerously cheap here, and you can drink just about anywhere. When you purchase, say, a large bottle of beer at the convenient store, they open it for you. You can, if you so desire, take this purchased alcohol into a cab where you can pre-drink in the cab ride to wherever it is you’re going. If you happen to not finish the large bottle of beer before you get to your final destination, there is no need to worry: you can take this alcohol with you into the club.
The food is pretty good. Ghalbi, or Korean BBQ, is my favourite. Kiran and James took me to this one ghalbi place that for some reason had McDs chairs on their patio. (“I guess a good way to cut down on your costs is to steal from your competition.”) You sit around a BBQ built into the table, and cook your meet, which usually is pork marinated in something awesome. You also grill garnishes like onion, cloves of garlic, kimchi. You then take a large leaf, stuff it with the meat and garnishes, fold it as best you can into a ‘bite sized’ piece, and then shove it in your mouth. The result is an orgasm with your tongue getting the full benefits (instead of , say, your private parts). Oh, man, that shit is good. I still haven’t tried dog, but when I do, I’ll be sure to let you all know.
Koreans have an amazing sense of style – a lot of guys dress really, really well. And the guys carry purses. A lot of pretty boys, if you will. And it’s not uncommon to see two boys or men walking arm in arm. The most adorable thing I’ve seen in the class is this one boy taking his friend’s arm, and wrapping it around himself. This can happen because homosexuality doesn’t really exist here. – not that it doesn’t exist, but, rather, it’s really repressed. But, yeah, some of the boys are really good looking. Well, actually, when a Korean is good looking, he’s extremely /good looking/.
As a result of this lack of homosexuality, my gaydar needs to be recalibrated here. I was dancing with this somewhat hot Korean and he was all, “you move so good! You…are a sex machine!” the whole while he had his arms around me and the like. Back home that would be a sign of getting some, but not here. They’re a very touchy feely culture.
Kiran and James took Dave and I to a bathhouse that bills itself as the biggest bathhouse in Asia. When the initial awkwardness of being naked in front of everyone wears off (“Yup, we’re naked and hanging out naked”), it’s a crazy freeing experience. You eventually ignore the sea of penises (THERE ARE SO MANY PENISES) and can really enjoy yourself, and the camaraderie that I guess goes with the nakedness. There is a range of spas ranging from the ridiculously hot (57 degrees was the highest—you couldn’t even step foot into that pool) to the refreshingly cool (there as no temperature posted, but it was easily close to 12 degrees – major shrinkage happens in that one). There was also this waterfall/stream of water that acts as a massager. It was crazy relaxing, and a perfect hangover cure. Again, this can exist because homosexuality is really repressed. People can clean each other in the showers, or just hang out naked because, yeah, there’s no way you could be attracted to the same sex. I couldn’t imagine having a bathhouse in Canada - well, I can, but it’s for an entirely different purpose.
The cabs here are ridiculously cheap. A 30-minute ride costs maybe 12 bucks. But I think that must come at the cost of the drivers driving like a crazy person with a death wish. Speed limits (and to some extent road signs and the markings on the road) are only a suggestion, and the horn is just an extension of their craziness. On one of my cab rides the driver was falling asleep. He’d doze off at every red light, and at one point we had to tap his shoulder because his eyelids were closed AS he was driving at about 70 or 80 km/h. I’ve also seen a cabby with a TV on the dashboard so he can, I guess, watch and drive.
I think one of the biggest culture shocks is EVERYONE IS KOREAN.
It’s such a homogeneous environment. And they couldn’t grasp the idea of a multicultural nation. You can’t be “Indian American” – it’s either one or the other. One of the homework questions I was checking was, “when you grow up, would you like to live in Korea or elsewhere, and why?” 98% of the students had an answer along the lines of, “Korea! Because Korea is awesome!” I remember when I was young and had a question like that, most of the class said other places other than Canada. Those 98% of students had never left the country as well. And being a foreigner here means everyone will stare at you. My favourite moment happened in the grocery store: everyone would stare at me, and then stare at my cart to see, I guess, what foreigners buy and eat.Um, what else. I went to my first casino! Actually, pair of casino/s/. Dave took me to two of them, where I lost $100 at 8.30am in the morning. BUT I love roulette. It’s awesome. And you can also gamble at WAR.
Oh, and skinny dipping in the ocean, at 3am when you’re drunk off your face is a very bonding experience. We were all wrecked, but the ocean was awesome. In the distance you could see the rest of Busan, lit up almost like a colorful birthday cake that also had Christmas lights wrapped around the baked good.Korea, I think I love you.
Anyways, this is getting long, and I think it’s a little all over the place. I miss you guys terribly, and I’m excited for the ones that may possibly visit! I hope you’re all doing well, and that you don’t miss me too much.
OH! And the t-shirts here! They’re amazing, and cheap. I just recently purchased one that has an old school dude from the 50s pointing outwards, and underneath it says, “you made me gay.” There are also shirts that say, “I heart black people.” And there are other shirts where the English is just atrocious (“You Hot Make Me” or “Very Sweetie Pie”), but it /is/ Korea so they definitely know what they’re doing.
Also, although the beer is cheap, it sucks. No more Rickard’s Red or White, or Stella, or MGD
Update 2:
It’s me again! Hope you don’t mind.
One of the things I’m kind of disappointed in, here in Korea, is their level of spiciness. I was told to expect some of the hottest foods, but so far nothing really stands out in terms of hot and spicy. That could be, however, because I’m white, and they are sometimes known for toning down the levels of spiciness for foreigners. But one day, at the beginning of class, some of my students came in, sat down, then immediately shot back up and asked to get water. “Water! Water!” they’d say while pointing to their mouths. I think one of my students saw the curiosity on my face, and offered me a piece of what they were allegedly eating. I can’t remember what it was called, but it was some meat covered in a thick, deep red sauce. I used the toothpick to grab the last piece and put it in my mouth. All the students watched, I guess, to see the reaction of a foreigner to this crazy hot food that has them all in a water-quenching quest…nothing. I can be liberal here and say it was just under being moderately spicy, but nothing to what I was expecting. I started to teach the lesson of the day, but before I could continue one of them said, “you? Water?” When I shook my head no, the entire class was blown away. But, hey, they could just be pulling my chain so they have a weekly excuse to get out of class and hang out by the water cooler.It is pretty well known in Korea that Koreans have a hard time telling white people apart – they all look the same to them. I experienced this first hand when I went to the casino. After drinking cheap beer at the beer tents near the ocean, it was decided we should all go to the casino at like 3 in the morning. When I got there, I realized I didn’t have my passport because I had handed that into the school so they could get me an alien immigration card. Kiran told me not to worry. The plan was the group was all going to get in, and then Kiran would leave with someone’s alien card and meet me outside the casino so he could give it to me. So, yeah, we put that plan in action. The picture on the card looks /nothing/ like me, and there would be no way this would pass at a bar or casino in North America. I think the only thing going for me was we both didn’t have facial hair, and we shared the same hair colour. So I go in, and the traditional asking for ID takes place. She takes a long, seemingly hard look at the ID, looks up, smiles at me, and then lets me in. I…was dumbfounded. Drunk, I giggled and proceeded to gamble.
So it turns out squatters are more common than toilets, which at first was a little disconcerting to me. I don’t know – a toilet has everything going for it: you can plant yourself down and the bowl will take anything you give it. To me, there are too many things that can go wrong with a squatter. Most of the time there’s only a string to help you hover over the laughably small porcelain god. I’m just glad I haven’t had to use one yet, because I do fear a slip of the foot on the wet floor will be the cause for me falling in. Another fear would be things not ending up where you want them. A friend was telling me when she first used it she ended up pee on her leg. Guys don’t really have that problem, but I’d much rather deal with urine than, well, you know. Maybe if you’re lucky to remember to purchase the 20-cent toilet paper things might go your way. The one thing I can say I’ve done since I’ve been here, however, is shit in the bush. On a hiking trip, “the toilet is everywhere,” – as said by a Korean guide as he waved his arms about in a semi-circular motion, indicating, I guess, that nature will take whatever you give it. And, well, you best not be ignoring nature calls. I won’t go into all the nitty-gritty details of my experience. I will say, however, that things look a little different after.
One day I had made plans to go to Gyoung-jew (phonetic spelling)– a city that holds some of the oldest temples in Asia - with a friend (Steph) because we had the day off. We were supposed to be up and ready to leave at a relatively early hour, but we were both at that casino until like 5:30am.I was told that you could never expect to get a lot of sleep in Korea on the weekends, and I’m slowly realizing this is true – especially when there was the knock on my door at 10am, with Steph on the other side, asking me if I was ready to go. After having maybe ten minutes to get ready, we made our way to the bus terminal (which was about an hour away on the subway, which sucked in my condition). Now, Gyoungjew is about an hour away from Busan. How much do you think that would cost - an hour’s travel time on the bus – back in Canada? IT WAS $4 HERE. And the crazy thing was that the bus was like…a first class
bus! Leg room galore! And you could recline backwards, to the point you were maybe 20 degrees above the horizontal! Needless to say I was able to sleep some of the hangover off on this relaxing bus.The first thing we did when we got there was make our way to one of the oldest temples, the name of which escapes me right now. The scenery was breathtaking, and the temple was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. One of the striking things was the rich colour this temple was encased in. Even the pathways leading up to the temple was incredibly picturesque and almost monumental with the trees and rocks raising high above the ground. We then made our way to another temple, which housed one of the oldest statues of Buddha. This temple was way high up in the mountain, so the view down was awesome. Each temple had spring water flowing out of a beautiful statue, and there were plastic scoop-cup-things for the public to drink out of.
On the way back we made sure to hit this park where the kings from various dynasties were buried. The tombs looked like a giant round mound of earth, and with the lot of them it looked like a very hilly area. I didn’t know what they were at first, and wanted to climb up one of them. I was then told that that kind of thing is frowned upon. That struck me as odd, but then I was told they were tombs and all made sense again.On the fourth of July, Independence day, there was a rooftop party held in the country’s honour. It was unlike any rooftop party I’ve been to because it was on top of this 24-story building. At first this crazy fog cover enveloped the city below, but it was slowly washed aside from the constant warm wind blowing in from the mountains, and more and more of the city lights peaked through the fog. It was as if there was this sheet being pulled over the city. I didn’t end up going to bed until maybe 5:30am (it’s weird: drinking to all hours of the night is the norm here and it isn’t fueled by drugs), which was dumb because I had signed up for a hike and I needed to be up and ready by 9:00am sharp.
The hike, I think, has been one of the best experiences so far in Korea. A middle-aged Korean, who is legendary for planning amazing excursions for foreigners, and his friend, who went by the name of Sam Chom (which meant uncle), guided the hike. (Actually, the literal translation of Samchom is three hop, and a hop, according to him, was a jump in the family lineage. So the first hop was from him to his father. The second hop was from his father to his grandfather. And the third jump was from his grandfather to his uncle.) The mountain, called 1000 Saint Mountain, we climbed was an hour outside of Busan, and they had rented a van for us to travel in. The van drove us half way up the mountain (“Easiest hike I’ve ever done”) and stopped at this Gazebo overlooking the city. On the way there I still felt a little drunk, and made the crack, “so this is what it’s going to feel like hiking drunk.” As it turns out, there’s a Korean custom where you drink BEFORE you hike to pray for no injuries and good luck on your journey. Once at the Gazebo, the two Koreans took out all the food and alcohol they purchased, and thus began a drunken feast. Now, back in Canada, one would think an alcohol fueled hike is bad luck and would cause some injury to the drunken hikers. Not here – not in the least.
While we stuffed our faces with food and alcohol, the Koreans explained some customary rituals, like the one of the receiving and giving of drinks. It’s a sign of respect to receive or give alcohol with two hands – The left hand is simply placed just below the right hand’s wrist, on the forearm. This is because, back in the day, the ancient garbs people wore had really long sleeves, and they would have to use their free hand to tighten up, so to speak, the sleeve to make sure it didn’t flop into the drinks/food. If you’re younger and you’re giving or receiving a drink to/from an elder, you must use two hands. If you’re pouring a drink to someone for the first time, you must use two hands, even if it’s the elder giving/receiving the drink. Out of the group of people I went with, I was the oldest, so I only had to use two hands when pouring drinks to our guides. Everyone else had to show me respect, and I made damn sure I commanded that shit. Another custom is you must always, /always/ take care of your neighbor (and this was heavily enforced). If you received a drink from an elder, you must repay the favour when you’re finished your drink. (We… drank a lot on this hiking trip.)
After our bellies were full (and our vision doubled up), we were on our way over the mountain. The scenery was lush with greenery, and I heard the sounds of bugs and birds that I’ve never heard before. The trail we stuck on was moderate to intense, and it mostly criss-crossed over this stream that flows down from the mountain. There was more spring water “taps” – the taps being hoses coming out of the mountain and fresh spring water coming out (“Fill your water bottles with this and you will live a long life!”).
Our trail broke through to a motherfucking waterfall. The guides decided this would be a good place to set up for another picnic, and we happily obliged. This time they pulled out ghalbi and their small gas frying pans. They cooked, we drank, we ate, we drank. At the beginning, when we first got a glimpse of how much alcohol they got (bottles and bottles of beer, soju, and this rice wine), we questioned if we were actually going to finish it all. After a few “one shots” (where you have to finish whatever is in your cup in one take), we realized they might have brought too little. At one point a cricket fell onto my hat, jumped into someone’s glass of soju, and then jumped right into the frying pan. The bug was fried pretty good, and I thought that was the perfect time to try cricket. I picked him out with chopsticks, dipped it in a bit of salt, and then in it went into my mouth. I gotta tell you: pretty good. I think the marinade made out of soju did the trick, and the fat from the ghalbi gave it a nice finishing flavour.
After lunch we changed into our bathing suits, AND PLAYED IN THE MOTHERFUCKING WATERFALL. I can’t describe how refreshing it was to just sit/lay underneath the heavy stream of water. Anything that could have been weighing you down would have just been swept away with the downpour.
We continued on our hike. Sam Chon wanted to take us to his “special place” that no foreigner knew about and few if any Koreans knew about. As we’re hiking along the relatively thin path, Sam Chon just veered to the right, into a thick bamboo-like forest. “Follow me!” We just kind of looked at each other, but shrugged our shoulders and followed. After maybe ten minutes of hiking through these bamboo sticks jutting out of the ground, we finally broke through to this magical-looking pond, with a mini-waterfall by its side, making sure this pond was always full. We were so far removed from society. Of course our two guides broke out more food (this time dumplings) and even more alcohol. We swam and played in the pond while the guides cooked for us. There was a rock that acted like a slide into the pond, and if you wanted a ride, you could swim up close to the mini-waterfall, and grab a rock for support, then jump in and be carried away by the strong current.
As the hike went on, there were more and more pit stops. At one point we decided to lie down on these flat-looking rocks and half a quick power nap, as the water rushed by us.
As we walked down our final path, each of us good and tipsy, we noticed the trees dancing for us. Their roots clenched to the ground as their leaves and branches swung to and fro to a silent beat.
I don’t know how many people have eaten out (with) Cindy, but it was sometimes kind of an embarrassing outing. She’d be rude to the waiters and didn’t like tipping that much. If
something popped into her mind about what she wanted, she’d scream for a waiter and force them to listen to her, even if they had their arms full of piping hot food. When giving her order, she’d sound almost condescending. Well, that’s kind of the norm here; you shout “yo-gee-yo” (here) to get someone’s attention to serve you no matter what they’re doing. And there’s no tipping anywhere (not with cabs, not at bars, etc). Some restaurants even have a “yo-gee-yo” button attached somewhere to the table so you can always bring a waiter to you. Her rudeness is what’s expected here at restaurants. I told her how much she fits in here. And it took me awhile to stray away from saying “excuse me” if you want a waiter’s attention. I gotta say, Cindy was on to something.Baseball is huge here. Huge. The crowd will go absolutely nuts if someone just lands on first base. Or there will be a wave that goes around a few times – or several waves going around at once. And if you’re a foreigner singing the cheers…well, they just love that and will give you free drinks as a result. (Not that you need free drinks, mind you; the alcohol is like $2 a can, or $5 for a pitcher). And they also have these weird contests projected on the big screen. One involved fathers swinging their children all over their body in some sort of acrobatic gesture.
I’ve realized that the best way to learn from a culture is through its children; they’re going to reflect whatever they’ve been exposed to or what’s been imparted on them. For example, one of the homework questions was the following: What do you love about Korea, what don’t you love about Korea, and why? What do you love about other countries, what don’t you love about other countries, and why? Obviously (or not so obviously) every single child in my intermediate class did not have anything bad to say about their country. “I love Korea because Korea is awesome,” or “I love Korea because they have delicious food.” After really fishing for something they didn’t like, the children finally broke this, like, oath to proclaim they didn’t like their current “king of Korea.” Why? Because he’s importing USA beef, or “crazy cows.” (The children were actually shocked when they found out that I, in fact, knew what mad cow disease was, which just goes to show how xenocentric they are – hell, they think Korea is the only land which experiences four seasons). The fact that there have only been three mad cow-related deaths notwithstanding, or that it was actually in the UK where shit really went down, I was really curious where they got their information. “Images! On TV!” one of them said. “…the news?” “Yes, teacher!”
Not to long ago I came across (or, rather, was told about) a political cartoon in a brochure given to kids. It involved a cafeteria worker heading out sticks of dynamite to the children. This isn’t an actual health issue for them – it’s a total nationalistic issue. There have been demonstrations and protests of thousands, if not tens of thousands of Koreans up in arms over this. Koreans want Korean things, and think anything they do or create is the best decision. I guess that’s why there are so many incorrectly spelled signs all over Korea: Mariage for a bridal store; Eglish for an English school. They don’t need spell check or someone to check it for them – if a Korean made it, it’s right. I was going to scare the kids and tell them that mad cow disease can lay dormant in the body before reeking havoc, but I didn’t (mostly because they wouldn’t know what dormant meant.
The second part of the question – involving other countries – was more interesting…at least I thought so. I remember in younger grades, when I was being asked these kinds of questions, there would never be a part asking “what didn’t you like about other countries.” Because, I guess, Canada was so multi-cultural, they didn’t want to foster a negative environment for negative comments about other countries to surface. “I don’t like Africa because of the dark skin and flies,” “China, because anything that says ‘made in China’ breaks easily.” They’re also convinced that all Chinese food has bugs and “mouse heads” in it. Curious, because some of the Korean food is, well, bugs. I had one kid surprise me, because she said she really liked Japan, and that they made quality goods. This was in stark contrast of another kid who said he liked North Korea because he could get dynamite there and throw it at Japan.
Kiran had a question involving, “if you were Cupid, who would you match up?” Some serious answers were given, but then the children started being sillier. “A cat with a dog!” and the class would giggle. This went on for some time, until a girl said, “a boy and another boy!” After Kiran asked what two boys, and the girl replied, “any two!” and the class erupted in laughter. Obviously two boys being together is as crazy as interspecies couplings.
Lo and behold, there /is/ a gay district in Busan. I’ve never been there, but apparently it’s awkward because all the Koreans there will be incredibly shy and won’t talk to one another. There are even bathhouses like the ones in Canada close by…though one of them is run out of a guy’s house.
A big part of my job is to help the kids with the proper pronunciation of words. They mix up their Rs and Ls, Bs and Vs, and, more humorously, Zs and Js – and I’m supposed to fix that. One of the sentences in a book was, “Oh, look! There’s a zoo in the park!” 90% of the children said that in a way that made me giggle. “Teacher, why laugh?” Oh, how do you even begin to explain.
Because of all this pronunciation, every class now knows about my tongue piercing. Oh, man, the reactions. They’re really curious so they’re always going, “go ah! Go ah!”, wanting to get a closer look. At first there was a lot of screams, and one girl would even go as far as dry heaving. “Teacher, why?! Teacher, why?!” But I think the shock has worn off now. They still ask me to “go ah” a lot of the times, but they no longer scream; instead they want to get a really good look, and one even wanted to touch it. (No, I didn’t let them if that’s what you’re thinking).
Y’know, I’m sure most of you are aware of my current stance of children and never wanting to have one. But after all this time spent with my kindergarten children…they’re kind of growing on me. They’re so fun to be with! I can sing stupid songs or, well, act like a child and they all love it! Maybe if I could have one that never grows up to be a fuck-ass teenager with all this attitude and ability to not cooperate with anyone/thing. We’ll see, I guess. Maybe science will come to a point where you could genetically alter a child so they stay that way.
James, Kiran and I, at one point in a night, had $2 beers from the beer tent and were sitting on the beach, surveying the area. The waves were crashing and rushing up to meet our feet, there were pockets of other Koreans heavily peppering the beach, ranging from two to 15 people big, laughing, drinking, having a good time, and the colourful sights and sounds of a boisterous city ready to simmer down for the night were behind us. The darkness of the sky meeting the ocean were drawing our gaze, and at one point we broke away, looked at each other just before we clinked our beer glasses and exclaimed, this is the fucking life.
But, still, strong feelings of nostalgia resurface as we discuss about our respective and shared friends and old experiences, wishing more were here to join us (or at least visit). Miss you fuckers like crazy.
I still have a ton of shit to say, including the shit show that was Mud Fest. In brief, there’s a lot of mud, there’s a lot of alcohol, there’s a mud slide, there’s a mud jail, there’s a mud parade, there’s a beach, there are fireworks, there are five people crammed to a bed, there’s someone getting knocked unconscious because of a nose dive down a slide that turned out to be deflated, etc. But this is already ridiculously long, and I’m not sure how many people even made it this far. Again, I miss you all.
Much, much love, and I hope everyone is doing superbly. Keep your updates coming!
Love love love love
James
xoxoxo
Babo is Korean for foolish
This will be the new place where you can find all the little updates from Korea.
Big events, small adventures, mindless ramblings about culture--it will all be stored in this little corner of the internet.
Also, It'll be easier to post pictures alongside the text, so it's win-win for everyone!
Big events, small adventures, mindless ramblings about culture--it will all be stored in this little corner of the internet.
Also, It'll be easier to post pictures alongside the text, so it's win-win for everyone!
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