Holiday Post

I thought I'd left the college mindset, but I was very wrong.

You see, we have a massive amount of paperwork due tomorrow (evaluations for all of our classes). Have I done it yet? Soooorta...

What have I done instead? Not facebook. Lots of people procrastinate with facebook, but the allure of that has long since gone for me. There's also Youtube, which is often good for several hours of wasted time.

In the past two days when I should have done this paperwork, I watched, A Christmas Story, The Year without a Santa Claus, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and The Santa Clause, 1, 2, and 3. Did you know there was a The Santa Claus 3? Me neither.

I guess it's just the fact that this week is holiday week. No one wants to work when they've got a vacation come Thursday. By this time next week, I'll be in Beijing with... MY PARENTS! I'm pretty psyched about it, as you may have guessed. Though I think I've seen more of them since I left the country (Skype has given me weekly viewings of their faces, though not always sound), it'll be really cool to see them over the holidays.

For those of you who don't know, we're meeting in Beijing on the Monday after Christmas. We'll go to the Great Wall (with all the benefits of my experiences...), the Forbidden City, Tienanmen square, and the terracotta army in Xi-an. Basically it'll be a brief "best of" tour. Maybe I can convince them to eat chicken feet.

Probably not. We know where those feet have been. Although apparently the majority of the chicken feet in China are shipped from the states. I can't remember if it's Wisconsin or maybe Michigan.

Over Christmas itself, I'll be in Shanghai. I'll be meeting a friend there and taking in the sights for a few days, then I'll take the train to Beijing. Considering I came here with no real idea of who I'd be spending Christmas with, or what I might be doing, I'm really happy with the way things have turned out.

So I guess I'll talk to you guys later! Happy Holidays!

Sweet?

I don’t know when I’ll stop getting surprised by things I eat in Korea. Probably never. But it got me thinking about the differences between what Americans consider “sweet” food, versus Korea’s “sweet” food.

In some things, the differences are kind of drastic. Koreans like to fill pastries and the like with a sweet red bean paste. It looks a little like chocolate, so it can surprise you. One of the first things I ate in Korea was a croissant with red bean paste inside. It took me a while to figure it out. Though I don’t really mind it, I find most of the bean paste fillings sweet but plain. Give me chocolate any day.

I was told that Koreans think of tomatoes as fruit. Before you email me to say “They are fruit,” I know. We learned that in fifth grade. Regardless, Americans don’t treat tomatoes like fruits. In our minds, the fruit thing is a technicality based on seed placement rather than flavor. However, when kids have a birthday at our school, most parents give them oranges and cherry tomatoes. We also get cakes from Paris Baguette, and if you buy a vanilla cake, they put fruit on top. Cherry tomatoes are included. I couldn’t help but wonder how Koreans feel about pizza or pasta. Do they find the tomato sauce really unappetizing and weird? That might explain why so many pizzas I’ve eaten are lower on sauce.

Those are two relatively big differences, but I also found that Koreans have pretty intense sweet teeth (that doesn’t sound right). The cakes I mentioned always have sugary frosting. I can’t eat them at all. You know the frosting on pre-made cakes that seems like it’s just made of sugar and food dye? It looks a little like toothpaste and gives people headaches? Korean frosting has more. It’s similar in consistency to a cream frosting, but somehow the people who made it managed to add more sugar.

Also, sweets abound everywhere. I know most of my impressions are influenced by the fact that I’m teaching small children, but there’s a whole lot of candy out there. Most of said candy tends toward the fruit flavors and hard candies rather than chocolate or caramel. Heck, I’ve even found the fruit juices really sugary. Granted, I used to drink cranberry juice, so maybe I’m not the best judge…

You also find sugar on or in surprising things. One of my first weeks here, I bought garlic chips (like in Gardettos). I was wholly unprepared for the sugar on top. Not having much of a sweet tooth (particularly when mixed with garlic), I swore I’d never buy chips again. About a week ago, I made the same mistake. Sure, after tasting the sugary garlic chips, I remembered my earlier experience, but what does that matter? For some reason, chips and crackers sometimes have sugar. I’m not wild about chips in the first place, so I’ve been avoiding them (not to be unadventurous but I’m not a fan of the seafood flavored chips, anyway). Apparently the result of that is a bad memory for what is sweet and what is not.

Okay, I’d better stop. I’m getting hungry, and pretty soon I’ll work up some enthusiasm for the garlic chips. I don’t want to make that mistake thrice.

Brown Class :)

Today was my first day back to teaching morning classes. I’d forgotten how quickly the days go by when you have morning kindergarten. Not to mention I spent most of the day feeling like a moron. I’ve been teaching for five months, but the second anything changes, I feel like I’m back to square one.

Case in point:
We have a Theme book that we do in morning class. I taught the book in an afternoon class, but I never had flashcards. So naturally I screwed up the flashcards and felt like a complete prat. Even though I've taught a morning class (we didn't have Theme book in baby class), it's still nowhere near natural for me.

I’d really like it if I stopped feeling like a prat sometime soon. I know growing experiences are good for people and all, but it’s damn uncomfortable.

This morning class is really sweet. While I may have made a few (okay, several) mistakes, it’s a lot better than baby class was. I’m afraid that I’ll end up eating my words (fifty-fifty odds), but I really like them. They’re all really sweet. In my previous class, a couple of the kids were kind of nasty to each other (hitting or lying). But Brown class kids aren’t like that. I’m told the largest kid isn’t always gentle, but for the most part the children are good. I just hope I don’t screw them up or ruin the dynamics somehow. Another thing that’s nice about taking an older class (they’re six years old) is that they’re less likely to cry or pee their pants. Also, they can put on their shoes on their own, take things out of their cubbies without me watching, and go to the bathroom alone. All of those things are remarkable to me.

I’ll miss the relaxation of working silently at my desk in the mornings, but my days are going to go so much faster! I lucked out on how great the kids are (please don’t let me eat my words too much), and how willing my partner teacher is to help me. We'll see if I've still got the same attitude at the end of the week.

Rubber Seoul

So there was this benefit called “Rubber Seoul” here in, well, Seoul. Basically, people went to Hongdae and paid ten dollars to get into a bar (and thus get into all the Hongdae bars). Earlier I mentioned that I thought the tiny black dolls were a little hinky. Someone posted about how I was an ignorant ass in saying so (actually, he was nicer about it, but that's the gist), and I suppose that is true. I was being flippant about an AIDS cause, which is not cool.

(The pin I was flippant about)
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I appreciate him commenting on my posting, because I cringed a little when I reread it (not my finest hour). Looking over the benefit site in more detail (I scanned the facebook group but didn't sit down and read yesterday), it makes more sense that it did at three in the morning last night. For those of you who are curious, here's a the organization's website: http://www.littletravellers.net

This was to benefit a specific AIDS organization based in South Africa. "Little Travellers" are made by women in South Africa who are affected by AIDS, hence the black pins. However, if you miss the slide show beforehand (which I'm guessing more than my crowd did) the reasoning behind the pins isn't immediately transparent. I may have been hasty in my comments, but I don't think they're without ANY merit. After all, if I hadn't blogged about the event (and gotten a well worded, entirely justified response), I wouldn't have learned much about the organization, and all I'd know is that there was an AIDS fundraiser handing out little black dolls and condoms. An oversimplification, but I'm not going to credit myself with an abundance of critical thinking when it comes to a late night out at Hongdae. Not everyone who happens upon a fundraiser researches the meaning behind it, especially if it takes place in bars. Of course, most of those people probably don't post their impressions for all to see after said fundraiser, so that's my mistake.

This is a good lesson for me, because I learned I shouldn't write a post at three in the morning on a Saturday night. I also learned that not just my parents can see this (I'm not sure how he happened upon my blog, but I didn't really think anyone other than people from home would take time to read it). I guess I should make sure to write when I'm clear-headed, or I may anger total strangers rather than just elicit eye rolls from the people who know me.

While we were at "Rubber Seoul" we met some people that frequent our local bar. It was kind of funny to meet them outside of our neighborhood. Either way, I ended up talking to this guy named Songbae about how cool Jeju island is. Apparently, it's the most beautiful part of Korea and I should visit during the winter. Other people may disagree, Sunbae. (Sunbae is a term of respect for a guy who's older than you while you're in school. It's too close to his name to ignore, and we just call him Sunbae. I'm sure he loves it as much as I'd love being called Janet.)

The big news, however, is that our school just got a new girl. Her name is Laura, and here’s the weird thing: she’s from South Dakota! She’s from Yankton, and she went to McCalister. Isn’t that strange? Not only was it weird that she’s from the same area as me, but she also went to Minnesota for school. I’m pretty psyched about it.

And this crow I'm eating? A little stringy.

Tuesday

Okay, time for my attempt at updating a couple times a week. How is everyone doing? That’s great. I’m doing fine, as well. Next week, I’m going to be taking over a morning class. One of my coworkers is leaving (his contract ended and he’s not going to renew it), and I get his class of seven year olds. They’ve got an unfortunate name: Brown Class. It’s a step down from Lemon Class, name-wise, but a big step up work-wise. I’m kind of looking forward to having children who I only have to worry a little about eating their pencils and peeing their pants. It still happens in seven year olds (that’s five and six year olds to those of you who don’t know Korean ages), but it’s not an everyday occurrence. And let’s face it, I’m not really the nursery age type of teacher.

Plus, my favorite kid in the school is in this class. Justin is his name, and I’m not sure why he’s my favorite. He’s actually kind of a pain. But lucky for him, he’s adorable. In a school of very cute children, he kind of reminds me of my old neighbor. Anyway, Justin’s in Brown class, as is a little boy named Jayden. When I first came to this school, I really disliked Jayden (he’s slow in class and doesn’t pay a lot of attention). However, he’s grown on me. Other than those two, I haven’t had any of the other kids before, but I’m still kind of excited about it.

Still, it’s a change. I’ll no longer be sitting silently in front of my laptop in the mornings. As all of you know (unless you’re a stranger, in which case hello!), I’m the anti-morning person. So it was really great to be able to scowl at my paperwork. In fact, the morning scowl probably made people think I was working really hard. However, they’re not as fond of us scowling at the kids. But Adam, who I’m replacing, isn’t much of a morning person, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.

We’ll be getting a new girl on Saturday, as well. Then, it’ll be official that H and I (as in me, not the letter) are no longer the new people. So I guess it’s fair to say that this weekend will bring some serious changes to my life.

There. How’s that for an update? It may have lacked the pizzazz of getting lost or sick, but it’s all you’re getting for now. Unless something drastic happens, or something.

Hungry. Hungry!

Ah, Thanksgiving. The word brings me feelings of contentment, mild gastronomic discomfort, and deliciocity. Until now, I did not associate it with Kimchi, Norah Jones, or secondhand smoke.

8:45 We went to Mad’s (the Irish pub near work) for Thanksgiving. They boasted a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner, complete with ambiance, free alcohol, and all the trimmings (which makes the alcohol part a redundancy). All we needed was 31,000 won ($26). Everyone was hungry when we got to the pub. This may have been because we saved room for a feast. However, I suspect it had more to do with the fact that it was EIGHT FORTY-FIVE AT NIGHT. Chris, the owner of Mad’s, had told us dinner began at nine. If that seems ridiculously late to you, this is because you are sane. Needless to say, we were famished because we’d not eaten since lunch. We played darts to stave off the hunger.
8:55 Anticipation is high. The crowd is milling about awaiting the sight of the bird. People stand in little groups as everyone discusses the arrival of food. We're not the only hungry people in the bar. They start playing a Norah Jones Christmas CD.
9:00 It's time! We're going to eat! Yea!
9:05 Where is it?
9:10 This isn't funny anymore. Where's the freaking dinner? I paid my ridiculously high bill and I drank my cheap wine. Where's the food?
9:15 We inquire as to the whereabouts of dinner. The staff pretends not to understand the question. We know this ignorance is feigned because we talk to them all the time.
9:20 The staff disappears in the kitchen. We must be close.
9:30 Yea! They’re bringing it out! It was worth the wait because they’ve got a turkey and lots of different side dishes—wait, no. They’re appetizers. It’s time for our authentic Thanksgiving appetizers: Kimchi pancakes and lentil soup.
9:31 The food is gone. It was sacrificed to the twenty-five famished patrons who don’t care about authenticity at this point.
9:40 We’re so hungry that even throwing darts seems insurmountable. If this were Victorian England, I would swoon. Of course, if this were Victorian England, the women wouldn’t be allowed in a pub, and we wouldn’t be celebrating Thanksgiving.
9:45 Just when we’ve given up hope and are considering defecting to the McDonalds across the street, Chris comes out with a plate in either hand. Huzzah! We’re saved! We’d dance if we had the energy. We can finally eat!
9:46 Nope.
9:47 We figure out that our table will be the last served. So we wait.
9:55 And wait.
10:00 If I had the energy, I’d steal a stranger’s plate.
10:05 The word “mutiny” is thrown around.
10:10 I am starting to gain sympathy for the Donner party.
10:15 Some of my coworkers appear to have been replaced by visions of talking turkey legs and hamhocks.
10:20 OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod!!! It’s here! There’s turkey, real actual turkey, and potatoes! I see cranberry sauce and stuffing, a Pillsbury crescent roll, some vegetables. It’s beautiful! It’s delicious! It’s … cold.

I paid $26 for a cold turkey dinner served after ten at night.

Okay, I don’t care if it’s a little cold. I finally got my meal. All I need is a little bit of my favorite Thanksgiving staple.

Where did he put the freaking gravy? Don’t tell me.

No.

For the love of God, I’ve been here before. A Thanksgiving without gravy is worse than a Christmas without snow. It just isn’t done. Only a fool would have Thanksgiving without gravy. I’ll go in there and make the freaking gravy myself…

There’s no gravy.

Okay, let’s have a reality check. It is difficult, nigh impossible, to find a whole turkey in Korea. I’m sure it was prohibitedly expensive. Then there’s the fact that he gave us appetizers, one free drink, and a full Thanksgiving dinner (including pumpkin pie at around 11:30 pm). I’m sure it was expensive to make, and there was a bit of effort. Overall, the people I came with were pretty happy with everything.
But I need to point something out. I was under similar circumstances in Italy. I made a Thanksgiving dinner for about half the number of people (15 when I did it). The turkey was wildly expensive, and we had one oven and one stove. We fed everybody on time, and the meal cost us about $7 apiece. Plus we had multiple desserts and drinks.
As a member of a family with lots of experience cooking for crowds, I was pretty disappointed. We would never serve a meal so late, but we would especially never let a cold plate of food leave the kitchen. All of us (even the brat) take too much pride in food to let that happen). And it's not like there were a hundred people at the meal. I'll bet some of you served the same amount of people for Thanksgiving, and you didn't charge everyone.

But still, it was better than I’d expected in Korea (I didn't end up with octopus stuffing or surprise corn kernals in anything, so that's a plus). At least I got turkey on Thanksgiving, even if it was cold, a little dry, and utterly lacking in gravy.

*Sob* Gravy...

An Irish Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I didn't realize it was Thanksgiving until I was reminded by my Canadian coworkers (I'll let the irony of that set in). Anyway, just thought I'd let you all know I was thinking of everyone. Also I was thinking of gravy.

I love gravy.

A group of us are going to this Irish pub near work for a "Thanksgiving Dinner." It's rather expensive, but if I get turkey and gravy on this most hallowed of days, I'll be happy. So I guess I'll be celebrating Thanksgiving with a bunch of Canadians at an Irish pub in Korea.

Beggars can't be choosers, I guess.

I hope everyone has a great holiday!

Poor Planning

On Saturday, we had to come in to work. This isn't a normal thing for us (though some hagwons are open on Saturday. Aish). The reason we came in is because we had a sort of open house. Basically the school and the teachers were on display for prospective students' parents.

It was, as these sorts of things always are, awkward. The foreign teachers had to line up at the door and greet incoming parents. Did I mention that Koreans are kind of afraid of foreigners? Now imagine someone with a slight fear of foreigners who is walking into a school on a Saturday, a little uncertain, a little fearful, and once she opens the door, she's inundated with twelve foreigners speaking in another language.

Awesome.

Anyway, the main reason for this open house is that in February most of our morning classes are done. All but two of our classes are graduating, and that leaves a pretty big hole in the school. A hole that might cause trouble for the teachers, being that we all still want to have jobs (for the most part, anyway). It doesn't take a genius (or administrator, which is NOT the same thing) to figure out that if we don't get enough replacement students, some of the teachers will go in February. Toward the top of that list would be yours truly, being that I'm one of the newest.

So that's interesting news for everyone back home. There's a small chance I might end up home sooner than I'd thought. But then again, English teaching jobs are pretty common out here, so I might just get another. If that's the case, I'd be staying at least six months extra.

So that's where we stand right now. Between the economy and swine flu, there's a chance some of the teachers will be out of work. It's not the end of the world, but it's something to consider.

Fan Death

This probably comes as no surprise to anyone, but sometimes this country makes no freaking sense.

This is a country that believes in "fan death." I'm not sure if I mentioned fan death in the past, but let me break it down for you. Believers say that an electric fan running directly on your body can kill you while you sleep.

I don't think we need to go into the whys or anything (suffocation, hypothermia, hyperthermia...) but this is a very well accepted belief in Korea. Every summer, the media reports cases of "fan death." And for those of you thinking that just a minor section of the population believes in this, I'd like to point out that even doctors and the Korea Consumer Protection Board (KCPB) warn against fans.

Actually, fans in Korea come equipped with timers to protect the public. So I'm guessing the Korean government supports this? If you're curious about it, the Wikipedia page on fan death is kind of interesting.

This danger extends beyond just fans. I've been warned against running my air conditioner at night as well. In fact, I had a little cough in the summer and everyone told me I shouldn't run my AC at night. Some of the mothers at our school complained because we ran the AC too much, and they thought we'd make their children sick.

I just found out about one of the girls in our school who is "allergic to cold water."


Okay, so apparently Koreans aren't wild about the cold. Americans can be the same way ("Don't go outside with your head wet or you'll catch cold!"), so I guess we can't judge too much.

But if they're so afraid of letting anyone get chilled, I just have one freaking question:

Why won't they stop opening the freaking windows at my school?!

I'M FREEZING!!

*ahem

I apologize for the long build up before finally getting to my pointless reason for writing, but it's driving me crazy*. Oops, I mean nuts.


*(Crazy is a very bad word in Korea.)

TV

A long while ago, I wanted to discuss Korean television. I decided there’s no time like the present.

While my experience of Korean TV is somewhat limited, I’ve talked to others about it and found out some interesting things. For instance, the success of a TV show is not demonstrated by the length that it runs. Apparently, young Koreans (thirties and younger) don’t watch a single show for more than a season. As a result, every new season brings with it brand new shows. I mentioned a TV show called “Boys Over Flowers” a few times in the past. This show was wildly popular when it was aired last spring (so much so that Korea’s replete with BOF merchandise).

But despite its raging success, there will never be a second season. I can’t help comparing this to America’s tendency to grind a popular show into the ground. How many shows were fantastic the first season, only to gradually sink? (Heroes, I'm talking to you!) On the other hand, it doesn’t seem to make commercial sense that they would kill a show when it has developed a strong viewership. But the woman I was discussing this with said that Koreans just don’t watch second seasons of shows. So I guess it’s a cultural thing; however I can’t help but find it puzzling. Plus, it has to be hard on the actors to have to get a new job every year. Yeesh.

One exception to this tendency is apparently the older generation. According to my sources, they tend to stick to one series for years. There are a few historical genre TV shows that fit in this category, but I haven’t really watched them.

Another aspect of Korean drama that I find puzzling is the female lead. I’ve only watched about three or four shows, but the female leads tend to be Cinderella-like. They’re always poor, often working several jobs to keep afloat. All of the women I’ve seen have been clumsy and awkward, outspoken, and always manage to win the male lead over with the fact that they’re “different” from the other girls. I know American film tends to do this too, but I still found it somewhat curious. (Not to mention the fact that the female leads always seem to have atrocious table manners.)

Outside of dramas, there are plenty of Korean TV shows that exemplify the stereotypical Asian game show. They also have a tendency to take large numbers of TV stars and make them do embarrassing things. There was one show I watched where they had K-pop stars and actors going through an obstacle course, which usually took about thirty seconds apiece. The rest of the show consisted of forcing the participants to individually dance for the audience. Watching a guy half covered in mud, trying to shimmy for a crowd transcends language barrier.

After spending time in Italy watching similar programs, I can’t help but wonder if America is missing out on something. Why don’t we humiliate our stars the same way? Why are preposterous game shows the exception, not the rule? Who wouldn’t love to watch McDreamy (ugh) or Zach Effron (ugh ugh) try to cross a set of rotating logs on his butt, only to get soaked in mud and have to do the Macarena? That’s damn good television.

Pepero Day

Happy Pepero Day!

November 11th is a holiday dedicated to capitalism. Okay, so not officially, but if ever there was a holiday that exemplified capitalism, it is this one. Pepero Day is a holiday dedicated to a certain cookie in Korea. They’re long sticks dipped in chocolate (and quite delicious). Today, rather than remember veterans and war, Koreans give each other Pepero cookies.

According to “authorities” (i.e. Wikipedia), the holiday started because some girls in Busan gave each other Pepero cookies to encourage each other to be tall and slim like the cookies. If that’s not the slimmest excuse for a brand-based holiday, I’d like to hear the other. Seriously, couldn’t the company come up with something a little better? I guess it doesn’t matter, because Pepero Day is celebrated pretty heavily in Korea. Apparently it’s on November 11th (11/11) because the date resembles four Pepero cookies.

I could go on a tangent about how this is even worse than Valentine’s Day, but I’m kind of impressed. So today, rather than think of it as a holiday where I express my affection for others through a sweet snack, I’m going to consider it a salute to capitalism. Not only did Pepero create a holiday to boost sales, but they managed to make it so that they were the only company to benefit (take that Hallmark!). I read that over fifty percent of Pepero’s sales come from this holiday.

As another side note, I’d like to mention that Korea celebrates couples on the fourteenth of every month. So those men out there who hate Valentine’s Day should be grateful that it’s once a year. Korean men have to do it 12 times a year. Though in Korea, Valentine’s Day is the holiday where the women give their boyfriends chocolate. Men give gifts to their girlfriends on White Day (a month later).

By the way...

I know I already posted today, but I promised myself I'd post more often (and I had a few more important things to mention). I just wanted to say to all the relatives out there that I really wish I could have been to the wedding this weekend. It would have been much cooler than any of the stuff I did (bars, brunch, and shopping, though not in that order).

W said she'd post some pics on facebook, but being that she just got married I don't want to hassle her. So if you have any pictures... Remember that you have a ______(daughter, granddaughter, niece, cousin, sister) who would turn green with envy...

Speaking of pictures, I bought a camera over the weekend, and I went to Deok Su Gung, which is in the middle of Seoul. It was the main palace for the Great Han Empire. Lots of things have happened to it (not the least of which was the curious addition of Western architecture. Either way, with the fall colors and brand new camera, it was sort of irresistible). Side note: I don't have the memory card just yet, so I could only take four pictures and keep it in my internal memory.

Halloween in Seoul

I said I’d mention Halloween and I’m only a couple weeks late. Go me.

It kind of goes without saying that Korea isn’t exactly into Halloween. To my surprise, there were some decorations and things in a few of the bigger stores. You could buy some small items, but costumes were few and far between. I did Halloween in Italy, so I was kind of prepared for that. Unlike in Siena, I was actually able to find a few things, so it wasn’t just a scavenger hunt through other peoples’ clothes.

I was a fairy. It wasn’t much of a costume, but it was enough for school. We celebrated Halloween at my school, and it was rather awesome. For the morning classes, we had the children do pumpkin piñatas, face painting, and scary stories. The best part was the “Ghost House.” They took my room for the Ghost house, and we put up black trash bags and made a labyrinth. Then they proceeded to scare the children mercilessly.


I did the face painting. It was kind of fun, even though I was really bad at first. One group of boys wanted Power Rangers (they were just stick figures when I did them) and that was rough. After that, I kind of pushed spiders and lightning bolts. I know the boy doesn’t look all that happy in the picture, but after the wicked lightning bolts I gave him he perked up.

For afternoon classes, we got to be in the Ghost House while our own classes went through. Not to worry those at home, but everyone enjoyed scaring the pants off our kids. Naturally, the most evil child in our school (who happens to be in one of my classes) took advantage of the dark to punch a teacher (not me). Other than that, though, it was really fun. My oldest class also reacted the most. Some of them actually refused to go further than the door. This contrasts sharply with the youngest student I had, who just wandered through the place, calm as you please.


I included a picture of most of the teachers at my school. We have a haggard bunch of costumes, but some of them are pretty cool. The creepiest one was the cowboy. The funniest was the guy dressed as a hiking Ajussi. On the weekends, the subways are inundated with hiking couples (Adjuma is an older woman, Ajussi is an older man) dragging huge backpacks and hundreds of dollars in equipment. People didn’t know that he was in costume (he has a flame handkerchief over his face in the picture), and strangers asked him where he was going to hike.

We went out on Saturday night. H was Waldo (Where’s Waldo), which I thought was a really inventive costume. It turns out there were about five other Waldos. It was kind of like the Where’s Waldo with a whole host of people in stripes and you have to find the true Waldo. Except, you know, only five. D was even cooler: She was Sandra Park from 2NE1, a Korean pop group. If you’re curious about her Frank Lloyd Wright hair and odd costume, check out the music video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zIRW_elc-rY We actually saw another girl in the same costume (a little more accurate, but with shorter hair). Koreans who saw her often sang a 2NE1 song at her. As a result, we tended to go down the street singing “Ey, ey, ey, ey, ey,ey, e-ey, 2NE1” (If you’re curious or bored, here’s a link to the song we were quoting: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cwq-XdPfpeA&feature=fvst ).




Oddly, we didn’t see any other fairies that night. For Saturday, I was a goth fairy. It wasn’t much of a change from my costume for school, but it sounded cooler. It served me well, and proves that your own costume is only secondary to seeing all the other costumes out there.

Naturally, we went to the two main foreigner neighborhoods for Halloween (Itaewon and Hongdae). Aside from meeting a Korean guy named Ham, it wasn’t really that different from the usual weekend. It rained, but we had a good time wandering around. I also learned that you have to be careful in pronouncing the word “kebob.” If you say “gebob,” (which is easy to do in Korea because they use the same symbol for those sounds), that means dog food. So you might wander around saying “I’m hungry! I could really go for some dog food!” Ham made fun of me, but a guy whose name is Ham doesn’t have much wiggle room in the mocking proteins department.

Chill, Korea, just Chill

I know I went from not posting anything to a new post every day (don't worry, it won't last), but I have to tell everyone this news:

My school is temporarily shut down because of Swine Flu.

Just to give everyone a general idea of how the Shin Chan (Swine Flu) is affecting Korea, I'll tell you how this came about. Obviously there's a Swine Flu pandemic going on. Now, this has been slowly building since August (for us). Unless I'm mistaken, the public schools in Seoul have been closed this whole week.

I looked up a couple statistics, and I thought I'd give you an idea of how serious it is here. (There are roughly 48 million people in South Korea.) This past week, there were an average of 8,857 new cases of Swine Flu every day in South Korea. As of now, there have been 42 Swine flu deaths. Of the tens of thousands of people infected, that's a small margin. But I'm not writing to express the statistics, which will be moot practically as I write this.

The point is, South Korea is really afraid of the flu right now. There have been several quarantines and whatnot, but one of the results of this outbreak is socially acceptable xenophobia. I'm not going to describe the xenophobic experiences I've had since arriving in South Korea. Though they're annoying and insulting (the episodes, not the people), Koreans as a whole aren't awful to foreigners. But the fact is that several hagwons and schools have quarantined foreign teachers, but not their other teachers. Most schools tell teachers that they can't leave the country (though they can still travel in South Korea, which makes no sense. It's obvious that Swine Flu is already in the borders). We have been asked to avoid the foreign parts of town. I've had many people put on masks because I sat next to them. If you need to get people out of your personal bubble, all you have to do is cough and there will be a wide berth around you wherever you are.

The flu has killed some children. It makes sense that several of the private schools shut down this week for that very reason. Even if it's only a PR tactic (there were a couple cases of actual Swine flu in our school, but I'm fairly sure PR was a bigger factor), it's at least an indication that the schools are doing something. This is a country where people go to work no matter how sick they are (I know you think that's the case in the US, but this is a little more extreme. For instance, sick days aren't in our contracts. When I asked about it, they said "Don't get sick."). Children spend massive amounts of time in school and around other students on low amounts of sleep and high stress levels. South Korea has something like 487 people per square kilometer. Some schools have the children cleaning them (not ours, but many public schools), and I won't really touch on hand washing here. Suffice it to say, this is a place ready made for a pandemic.

I'm kind of hoping the current situation will bring about some change in the way Korea treats illness. It's a little difficult to say, however, and let's be honest: I'm not exactly an expert social critic. Either way, I could be angry about some of the reactions to the flu. I could roll my eyes at the hysteria. But considering the expectations Korea puts on children, I'm pretty pleased with the break. If nothing else, kids might get a chance to relax a little and get healthier.

Oops

After posting about Beijing yesterday, I realized that it'd basically been a month since I went to Beijing. So I think it's probably time I stop trying to wait for time to discuss Beijing. Here's a short version of the rest of my trip. Erika and I went to Tienenman Square at night and in the daytime (Erika got gently pushed aside by a soldier when she got in the way of a regiment marching). We walked up to the forbidden city, but decided we didn't feel like waiting in line. The two of us went to a couple parks, had traditional Peking Duck (AWESOME!), and went to a Chinese Opera. I'll include a couple clips of the opera so you can get an idea. We had loads of fun haggling at the Silk Market (I bought a kimono or two, fake Pumas, a fake Gucci watch, a fake Jimmy Choo handbag, and a few other odds and ends). The Summer Palace was really beautiful; the hostel we stayed in was incredible. We ended up befriending the Finnish couple we shared the dorm room with (we got lost together and ended up having some beers in a Chinese bar). Erika and I got so caught up in our enjoyment that we both almost missed our train/flight back to our respective homes. I'll include a few more pictures, but suffice it to say, Beijing may have been the greatest trip I've ever had. We had an amazing time and I loved the city. There are too many stories to tell without annoying everyone, so if you're curious, ask about the Wisconsinite we met, or the bird with a better Chinese accent than me, or the chopsticks "expert." I'd be happy to relate more, but I think it's time I return to discussing life in Korea. For instance, I had a great Halloween weekend. That's a story for a later post (I don't want people to have to catch up too much), so I'll just tell you that Korea doesn't really provide costumes, but I did get to see a guy in a nun habit. No Halloween is complete if you don't see at least one guy in a habit (at least, no Halloween after you start college is complete). One video is at Tienenman Square and the Gate to the Forbidden City. I just wanted to give you an idea of how packed it was. The other two videos are from the Chinese Opera we went to. It was a unique experience, and I would recommend it to anyone who wants to see something they haven't before.

AN EPIC TALE

Here we are again intrepid readers. I will relate the epic tale of the Great Wall of China and our not-so-intrepid hikers. To make this abundantly clear, I would like to point out that I did NOT THINK. I didn’t think at all. They said there would be a walk, but I was picturing the kind of walk that you usually do at tourist places. You wander around, surrounded by other tourists, and don’t really work up a sweat.

The “free water bottle” that came with purchase of our tickets should have been a sign.

Anyway, we drove up to our starting point with a group of American students (younger than Erika and me and mostly female) and two Brits in fluorescent short shorts. I was so excited to get out of the car that all thoughts of nausea were stolen away by the early morning breeze. It was the perfect weather for a hike: cool with a little bit of a bite, enough to make you feel good, but not so much that you should bundle up.

Our driver led us to a map; he pointed out where we were and where we needed to meet him in four hours. That was the red map I put on the previous blog post. That’s also when I realized our hike might be more that a little wandering on a wall. It was a serious hike. With hills. And parts of the wall were crumbly, so we’d have to jump over sections.


We had four hours to get from Jinshanling to Simatai. This didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. However, it was about 11 kilometers of hiking, and this wasn’t an easy eleven. My family likes hiking, and I’m not in terrible shape. But there was no section of wall that was level and easy. We hiked up and down mountain after mountain. If I’d known the difficulty level, maybe I would have prepared a little more. Like getting a good night’s sleep, or drinking more water. There really wasn’t any way to remove the whole vomiting thing, so we’ll ignore it.


Anyway, when we started, Erika and I were kind of behind the group. Not to be pretentious assholes, but neither of us really wanted to be associated with a rather loud group of Americans. We caught up to them talking to six or seven Chinese people. Erika and I kind of ignored them and continued. Then one of the ladies of the group started walking along with us and told us about how she was a poor Mongolian farmer and she had no job. I thought that was an interesting contradiction. Then she pointed out that one side of the wall was Inner Mongolia, and the other was China. I thought that could be interesting if true, but didn't do more than grunt. She then told me about how difficult her life as a Mongolian farmer was, and I found that to be an interesting bit of fiction. We were polite, but not encouraging. After several minutes of attempting conversation, she finally gave up and tried to sell us some shirts.




The first two hours of our hike consisted of that exact group of people trying to sell merchandise. Erika and I managed to avoid most of the hassle because we didn’t encourage them from the start. However, the other Americans had a harder time. When we were going up a particularly steep mountain, the “Mongolian Farmers” would grab their hands and “help” them to the top. Then they’d ask for payment. (I included a picture of the "help") I really don’t blame them for trying to make a living, but then again, they didn’t bother Erika and me (we just weren’t friendly enough). I think the other Americans may have learned the whole “If they’re too friendly, they’re selling something” lesson.



Along the way, there were other people at various towers selling water, pop, juice, t-shirts, postcards, and (my personal favorite) beer. Alas, the years of soccer tournaments taught me that beer would only dehydrate me further (that came out wrong), so I didn’t partake. Also, I didn’t want to spend five won on water.

Eleven kilometers. That’s around seven miles. It doesn’t seem like much, but try doing it in non-hiking clothes, going up and down mountains, dehydrated, and with no food in your system. The first three hours were fine. We took in the stunning beauty of the wall. And I do mean stunning. I took over a hundred pictures of the Great Wall, and Erika might have taken twice that. We really did get an incredible grasp for why the Great Wall is actually great. The views were spectacular, the wall itself was a marvel of epic proportions, and the thought of all the effort and materials that went into it was staggering. All I can say is that the Xiongnu must have scared the pants off the Chinese.

After three hours, however, the wall was just a freaking wall, and the hike seemed like it had lasted for an eternity. I started hallucinating about how I had fallen and broken my head early in the hike. That would make the unending hike Purgatory, and the people selling their overpriced drinks were demons. Or angels. Even after reading Dante, I find Purgatory confusing. It’s a good thing I’m not Catholic. Our fellow hikers were getting incredibly negative, and I realized I was definitely developing a sunburn. Three and a half hours into the hike, we realized that we were lost. None of us knew where we were supposed to stop. Four hours into it, we were even more lost. It seemed like we were supposed to have reached the end, but we didn’t see anything.


After about four and a quarter hours, we reached an area filled with tourists. We were psyched. It had to be the place. The only question was: where was the bloody turn off? You’d think it’d be easy to see.
It was not.


(Insane Cable Suspension Bridge. Picture included mostly for the civil engineers I'm related to.)
Also, we were faced with one of the steepest mountains in our hike. I’m including a picture because the sight alone was enough to make two of the hikers cry (not Erika and me, I swear). It's sort of hard to tell, but look for the towers. It's not that big a deal unless you've been hiking for FOUR HOURS.

We walked down into the valley, and I thought for sure the second tower was the place we turned off. Well, after crossing a rather insane bridge and climbing up to the second tower, literally pausing every five steps, there was this tiny path away from the wall.
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I said, “I think this is it.” The girl we were near said, “Let’s just go around the tower and see if the rest of the group is on the other side. We don’t want to turn off and have to retrace our steps.”

This was a sensible idea, so we did that. Sure enough, the rest of the group was trudging up the mountain. If one of my organs were predisposed to remove itself from my body, my heart would have sunk out the soles of my feet. Apparently, my organs are not predisposed to diffusion (lucky for the rest of me) so I had to keep going (lucky is a state of mind. I was kind of preferring death by organ diffusion at this point). We stepped up five stairs. We paused. We went up two more. We paused. We leaned on the rock wall, literally trying to drag ourselves up with our arms because we couldn’t lift our legs.

I’d like to take a moment from the melodrama and inject some sanity.

I can’t. We really did try to drag ourselves up with our arms. Not only that, but all these other tourists were streaming up and down the stairs past us. All I wanted to shout was “Don’t judge us! We’ve hiked eleven kilometers already!” But I didn’t know how to say that in Chinese (all I could say was hello and thank you. I didn’t think shouting those two words over and over would get any message across other than that I was wrong in the head). Instead, we hiked up that freaking mountain for something like forty minutes. The worst of it was that we didn’t have any idea how much further we needed to go. We were actually lost on the Great Wall of China. It’s a wall, for Christ’s sake. How do you get lost ON a wall? Finally, we found some people who spoke English and asked them where the turnoff for Simatai was.

I’m sure you may have guessed it, but it was that second tower. Nobody was certain, and none of us were willing to climb back up that freaking mountain a second time, so there was a lot of hemming and hawing. However, we went back down and walked off the tower at that tiny turnoff. Ten minutes later, we were in front of the restaurant we were supposed to be at almost an hour before. The only people there ahead of us were the two British guys in their florescent shorts. They’d been waiting for forty-five minutes, and they couldn’t eat until we’d arrived. The two of them mentioned this, and everyone apologized profusely. Then I said, “You guys were sitting in the shade having a beer. I feel more sorry for us.”

Luckily, everyone laughed, or I would’ve looked like a jerk. But really, we walked up an extra mountain and were late because of that. I don’t really care if they had to wait for us.

So that was the Great Wall of China. It began with extreme lack of sleep, food poisoning, and beautiful views. It ended with exhaustion, mild hallucinations and mediocre Chinese food. I suppose that’s as fitting an end to an epic event as any. To those of us who did the hike it was a once in a lifetime experience (largely because we’d never do it again). However, we probably appreciate the awesomeness of the Great Wall of China better than your average tourists. So we’ve got that going for us.

Alone and Lost in Beijing + Food Poisoning=Awesome

This story should serve as a cautionary tale for people traveling. Learn from my mistakes, which mostly consisted of me not thinking.

I arrived in Beijing with a foolishly small amount of information. First, I knew I was meeting my friend Erika at Dongzhimen station. I knew the name of the hostel we were going to stay a day from then. I knew that I was in China.

Important things I did not know:
1. How to say ANYTHING in Chinese.
2. Where Dongzhimen station was.
3. That day was National Day, and thus most things were closed (including the aforementioned hostel).
4. Where Erika was in Dongzhimen.
5. Where we were staying that night.

I'm not usually a planner. This isn't much of a problem, and on a good day I think of it as being spontaneous. On a normal day, though, it's just plain idiotic. No one should go to a foreign country without at least some idea of where they might stay that night. One would think that I'd learned my lesson in Bologna when I had similar problems, but no. At least in Bologna I spoke the language.

I got to the meeting place late (my flight was an hour and a half late because it was National Day). When I couldn't find Erika I figured she didn't know I got her email so she might not even be there. Erika didn't have a phone and I didn't have so much as a city map. That's when I realized how screwed I was.

To avoid making too big a deal out of the situation (and subjecting you to a drawn out epic) let me just summarize the following events: I couldn't find Erika even though I wandered around the station for about two hours. I tried calling the hostel and a Erika's friend's contact number, but both numbers were "out of service." After that, I figured my only way of finding her was through email, and I needed to find an internet cafe. The cafes (what few there were) were closed for National Day. I befriended a nice British couple who took me to their hostel and let me use their laptop. While there, the wife told everyone about my plight and I got a lot of sympathy from a large number of British people, as well as offers of rooms, couches, and the like for the night. Five hours after we were supposed to meet, Erika and I finally found each other. She had been waiting at Dongzhimen the whole time, but I missed her somehow.


The picture is of Oven Mitt chilling at the hostel. Or more specifically, hanging out in front of the free toothbrushes/shampoo that the hostel provided.

After that odyssey, Erika and I were tired (She was really worried about me. This was fair because after it got dark I started to worry about me a little). We were couch surfing (I don't feel like explaining it right now, but you can look it up), with a lady who worked for the U.N. Or the embassy. I forget. Anyway, she took us to an IRISH PUB. I couldn't get over it. I arrived in Beijing, got really lost, finally found my friend, and the first place we went was AN IRISH PUB.

In all fairness Erika felt the same. But as I mentioned, it was National Day . It wasn't just National Day, it was the 60th anniversary of the People's Republic of China. There was a big ceremony at Tiananmen square (think larger than the opening ceremonies at the olympics), and couch sitting lady wanted to watch it. Erika and I chatted and watched the ceremonies; it lasted for a few hours. We didn't eat much because we didn't want to spend vacation money on pub food.

Anyway, the lady kept us up pretty late that night, and we had to get up at 5:30 in the morning the next day. This was because we were GOING TO THE GREAT WALL!!!!!

We were both pretty tired when we rose, but we walked to the place the van was picking us up. For breakfast we got some food at 7Eleven. I got a pre-packaged croissant. We rode with a group of Americans and two British guys in fluorescent shorts. It turns out I was the oldest person in the car (except the driver, who was kind of cute but didn't speak much English). While we were on the road (it was about a two hour drive) I started feeling queasy. Erika and I were talking, then I started concentrating on not getting sick.

I failed.

About an hour into the drive, I threw up. This was ridiculous in several ways. Just before it happened, I grabbed a small wooden bowl that sat in front of me. So I didn't get anything on anyone (including me) or the van (which would have been awful). After it happened, I sat for a minute, clutching/balancing the bowl, uncertain of what to do. NO ONE NOTICED. Erika, who was talking to me, stared at me a minute and then asked the driver to pull over. But when he did, everyone wanted to know why we pulled over. Then I had to balance the bowl with the care of a scientist removing plutonium from a nuclear bomb as I shuffled out (three people trundled out in front of me because I was seated back in the van). At least nuclear scientists don't have to dodge backpacks and car seats. The most ludicrous part was the fact that I got food poisoning from a pre-packaged croissant. It wasn't even something cool like sketchy street meat.

I don't want to end the blog on a food poisoning note, but the story of the Great Wall is epic in nature, and will require a lot more time than I have. So let me just give you a small taste (unfortunate choice of words) of how I felt when we got there.

I was tired from traveling and getting only one or two hours of sleep.
I was hungry, but too nauseous to eat anything.
I was dehydrated from losing everything from my stomach.
I felt sick and had a headache.

None of those things mattered, though, because I was at THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA!!

(That's a map of the trails around the Great Wall. I'll explain more later.)
Tune in next time for "Lost on the Great Wall!", or, "Why didn't we read the pamphlet before we signed up for this freaking hike?"

Beijing Pics

I put photos from Beijing on Facebook, so if you're interested in seeing those, check it out. Otherwise, there will be an abbreviated version on this blog some time in the near future.

Chew Sock

Okay, so I was going to update and discuss Korean television.

That didn't happen. Obviously.

However, we'll table that topic, because the reason I didn't blog about Korean tv was that last week was Chuseok (Chew-sock). Chuseok is kind of like a Korean Thanksgiving. It's a harvest festival (ish) and we had Thursday and Friday off. Wednesday was fascinating, because we had our own little Chuseok celebration at my school.

I went to Beijing for the holiday and it was incredible. It's an epic tale of intrigue, food poisoning, silk kimonos, Finnish people, the Great Wall of China, Mongolian farmers, scorpians on a stick, getting lost all alone, and much, much more. However, today I'd like to talk a little about Chuseok because: A. It was really fun. B. I am living in Korea, and I'd be remiss if I didn't discuss it at all. C. I don't want to forget to talk about it. Beijing can wait.

Chuseok is one of the occasions where Koreans wear Hanbok. Hanbok is the traditional dress of Korea, and it's pretty cool looking. Here's a picture that I found online so you can get an idea.


Since I work for a hagwon they made all the teachers wear hanbok. Our bosses provided them, but most of us looked rather ridiculous. Scratch that; all of us looked ridiculous. One of the guys looked like a mix between Aladdin and Jasmine. Most of the women at our school looked kind of, well, fat in the dresses. Meanwhile, the Koreans were beautiful. The children all came to school in their hanbok outfits, and they looked adorable. Naturally I forgot my camera, but I'll be getting pictures and posting them online eventually. Someone told me I looked like an adjuma in my dress. Adjuma is originally a term of respect for a Korean woman who's older than you. However, it has negative connotations. Specifically, an adjuma is often used to describe a "squat, tight haired, steely eyed, brightly dressed woman ready to bowl over, elbow, and gouge their way to a better place in line." (I looked up the word online, and I couldn't really come up with a more accurate description of the stereotype.)

During the morning, the children were taught etiquette. On Chuseok, young children ask their grandparents for money. There's a certain way you're supposed to bow and everything for it. Mostly what I got from it is that when a male sits, he puts his left hand over his right, and females put right over left.

After that, we made songpyeon. Songpyeon are Korean rice cakes. When I heard rice cakes, I pictured the Styrofoam rice cakes we have in the states. That's a whole different ball game. These are of a smooth, kind of cooled pudding texture. It’s sort of like biting into a wet, springy ball of clay. In the center, they put something like sesame seeds or bean paste. Apparently you can make all manner of shapes around the center. For the kids, we mostly stuck to the traditional shell shape. It’s not an unpleasant food, but it wasn’t really for me. Of course, I’m not necessarily a sweets person. Side note: if you have songpyeon, don’t try to bite it in half. Pop the whole thing in your mouth or you’ll end up squirting sweet rice juice all over yourself and/or others. Oops.


There's a picture of songpyeon so you can imagine the flavors a bit.

A little later, we played games. There was jegichagi, a Korean hacky sack style game. Instead of a ball, they use coins wrapped in paper with feathers attached. Being that the girls were wearing really long dresses, they weren't able to play very well. I hiked up my skirt because I was wearing pants underneath, but I had to stop because that encouraged the little girls to do so. They weren't wearing pants underneath.

We also played tug of war, and the kids got pretty into it. We did a tug of war with the teachers, guys against girls. The girls lost, but in our defense we were wearing long dresses and everyone but me slipped on their hems. When they went down, our kids swarmed the rope and pretty soon everyone was tugging. We still lost, but as you might imagine it was an adorable and sickeningly heartwarming time.

There are plenty of other aspects of Chuseok that I didn’t participate in, but this gives you a little taste of what it’s like. Apparently it’s quite the family holiday, much like Thanksgiving. Though, as far as I can tell, they don’t have a Chuseok parade or a football game.

Jonggak

So, I've had plenty of things to talk about, but very little time to do so. Hopefully I won't write another novel for this post.

(Points to you if you just scrolled down to see how long this posting was. Negative points if you scroll down now.)

Anyway, my coworker, H, and I went to Jonggak. That's the area around the government offices etc. in Seoul. It's really cool. There are plenty of little shops and stalls in the area (That's nothing new; Seoul's only form of tourism is shopping.) There was the Namsam tower, which I haven't gone up, but fully intend to. You can apparently see a lot of Seoul from there. That seems like something I can save for when someone (ahem!) visits me. Anyway, that tower is in a Korean TV show I like (Boys Over Flowers!! <3 arg, I can't believe I just made a heart. I must be turning.) There's also Bosingak Bell Tower, which has existed since the 1300's and still works. It's pretty cool looking.

We wandered to the man-made waterfall/source? and there was this cool screw sculpture thingie. In front of it, there was a taekwondo exhibition. In case you don't know, taekwondo began in Korea, so it's kind of a big deal here. The exhibition was awesome. They played music in the background (We heard Mulan and Pirates of the Caribbean) and did some dance/martial arts moves. Also, they broke boards and did incredible acrobatics. It was like extreme cheerleading meets martial arts meets glee club (though technically they didn't sing). When I put it like that, it sounds lame, but it was actually kind of awe-inspiring. Okay, I did giggle sometimes, but mostly I was impressed.

Also, we were wandering down the street, when this guy started talking to us in English. If you're in a foreign country and someone speaks in your language, that's guaranteed to make to you stop. Anyway, these people were opening a club, and they wanted us to go in. H made a joke about us getting sold for slavery, which I'm hoping went over his head. We tried to say no, but then he offered us free drinks, so naturally we went inside. It was pretty much what you picture when you think of a club. I've been to a few clubs by now, and they always strike me as kind of tawdry. But since this place still had the new club smell, it was kind of cool. Everything was white (except the staff, badum ching!) and the lighting was neon pink. It has the potential to be really swanky or really sleazy, depending on what happens to it in the next couple weeks. The most notable part of the club for me was the fact that the bartenders kept checking themselves out in the mirrors. Not to overgeneralize, but constant checking one's appearance is a common Korean pasttime. However, this wasn't just quick glances. There was this one guy who literally stood in front of the full length mirror and watched himself dance. I wouldn't have stared, but he was so busy looking soulfully into his own eyes he didn't notice.

Okay, I have lots more to talk about, but how about I keep it to Jonggak? I'll post some photos and later this week I'll share some more. Gosh, you're lucky.

By the way, I think I fixed the whole comment problem with my blog. So people should totally try to comment.

Mai Tai Monday

I've been pretty busy lately, but that's no excuse. I really should post more, if only to say "Hello, I'm still here, and no, I don't like corn yet."

So anyway, it's Thursday, and I can't help thinking of how colleges nickname this day "Thirsty Thursday." I know that there are nicknames for every day of the week, though I have no idea what Monday would be ("Margarita Monday?" "Muddle Monday?" "Moonshine Monday?"). Either way, as someone who is (finally) employed, I have to say: I didn't know what it was to crave Thirsty Thursday before now. A week of teaching children really makes me want a nice Mojito. (Ooh! Mojito Monday!!! That's perfect!) A few of us are going to celebrate Thirsty Thursday today. It's just so easy to buy a beer at the convenience store across the street and chat. Come to think of it, we've done that every day this week... If B is the number of beers drunk in one sitting, and S is the number of sittings in a week, then B times S is equal to the amount of BS we had to deal with at work that week. Perfect.

On another note, I did celebrate wing night on Tuesday. It wasn't on par with Taco Tuesday (which used to be my favorite day of the week), but it's still a nice break. We go to this bar in Itaewon called Rocky Mountain Tavern. It's a Canadian bar, and the guidebook says that the atmosphere "can be a little chilly if you aren't Canadian." Naturally, I don't understand where they got that idea, but I'm really curious about the writer's experience. Did Oh Canada come on the speakers, and he/she sat, humiliated, while everyone else sang? Can you spot a Canadian or non-Canadian on sight? What constitutes "chilly?"

Anyway, other than a few nights of relaxation, some swine flu hysteria, and Boys Over Flowers (I love you, Jun Pyo!), I haven't done much beyond work. And to be honest, the hysteria wasn't me, so it doesn't really count as something I did.

I'm still here, and I don't like corn yet.

Situation: Normal(ish)

Well, it's been pretty much exactly a week since I posted last, and though I don't have much to report, I figured I may as well report nonetheless.

It's a good thing I've little to report. I still have a job, though now I spend my mornings typing and inserting clip art. Afternoons are a little more interesting. We started a new semester this week, and that means I teach almost all new classes. Some of them are pretty exciting: I get to teach older kids! It's amazing how nice it is to not have to worry about tears every time I raise my voice. And yes, I still have to raise my voice. I also have two private lessons, which is nice.

Though I have to say, I was kind of spoiled with the girl I had as a private lesson before. Her name was Sylvia, and she was twelve, interested in English, and always gave me presents. She, however, is now in boarding school in Canada. I'm teaching her little brother now, but he's just not interested in English at all. Unless he's lying. He told me he had a pet alligator, and I was so excited he was talking that I let him tell me all about it. Of course, there are much less entertaining students to have. At least if I keep him lying, we'll have some moderately interesting conversations. Likely, they'll all revolve around dinosaurs and reptiles.

The stress levels at work are high. Everyone is getting ready for open class (except me) and the new semester. I have this surreal separation from everyone else since I no longer have a morning class. At first, it felt a little like I was a leper (like maybe it would spread). But now we're kind of back to normal. Normal for us anyway, which means lots of tempers, one bitch out, a mild revolt from the foreign teachers (that's us!), one firing (the new girl replacing O.), and emergency meetings. Please don't think my school is in constant uproar or anything; last week was really bad, and this week was all about sandbagging. Plus there may or may not be some rather dramatic personalities within the school walls.

I've also been around Seoul a bit more. For the most part, I keep to the places people have taken me before (Hungdae, Itaewon, Insadong, Dongdaemon). There aren't many places for a tourist to visit here. I asked someone about that, and she said that most of the tourism involves shopping. There are a couple things like the city wall, or a palace or two. But for the most part, it's open markets and strange shops. I kind of prefer that, to be honest.

Okay, there's not much else to say. It's a Sunday, and I spent the day relaxing and watching old movies (To Catch a Thief, It Happened One Night, etc). So I'd better go before I get more inane than usual.

Lemon Class ... :(

First of all, I'd like to point out that last week would have been nuts, even without my drama. After all, it was the end of the month. The end of the month issues with it a great deal of paperwork and stress. There are student evaluations, monthly plans, and various other things to fill out. But this wasn't just the end of the month; it was the end of a semester. So the whole week was spent finishing our books and lessons for each class. Plus, the administration was trying to figure out what classes everyone would teach next semester.

Everything’s changing because we had some people resign (as in sign again), so their contracts were negotiated and classes got swapped. Plus a large number of afternoon classes were getting completely restructured.

By the way, we started open classes (classes where the parents come to watch and judge your teaching) and the August show is on Monday. There was plenty for each of the teachers to think about. This didn’t exactly make for a happy work environment; there was enough bitching in the teacher’s lounge that I had to stay in my classroom between classes or risk despair.

Lots of things to worry about, right? Well, that wasn't enough. Because not only were we dealing with the end of the semester, but one of our English teachers ended his contract (this was planned), and one of our Korean teachers (let's call her O.) resigned (as in quit). We met the new girl on Wednesday.

If only that were the end of the drama. But alas, that is not the case.

Well, O. decided to leave our school, and she gave them a month's notice. They didn't find anyone until this week, and the girl began training on Wednesday. That's when all Hell broke loose. O. was my partner teacher for baby class. On Wednesday, she started calling all of the mothers to inform them of the change in teachers.

I'd like to take this moment to point out a couple obvious things:
1. Three days is not sufficient warning for mothers to adjust to the idea of a new teacher.
2. My school had told them that teacher switching isn't common.
3. The Korean teacher doesn't really have much to do with teaching (she's a liaison between the English teacher and the mothers. Very little interaction with the students).
4. Korean hagwon mothers are nuts.

Well, the moms weren’t happy. To demonstrate just how unhappy they were, they decided to have a meeting with the administration. I was working, blissfully unaware of this until 6:15 pm when a staff member interrupted my class to warn me, ala: "The Mothers are coming! The Mothers are coming!"

I had class until 7:00, and proceeded to get more and more nervous. Apparently they arrived at 6:30 (as was evident by the screams of my baby class as they and their mothers walked down the halls. I don't know where they learned that behavior, because they never screamed and ran amuck when I was teaching them.) They were there for an hour and I stuck around in case they wanted me to join.

Everyone was incredibly stressed by 7:30, and I was anxious to get out of school. The mothers got their kids and left, saying nothing to me (though the kids all said goodbye and whatnot). I had no idea what all was said in the meeting, but I knew that it didn't have much to do with me.

I tell you this long, long story because I want you to fully understand the situation that I walked into on Thursday morning. When I strolled in to work, I wasn't sure what exactly had happened the night before. If anything, I figured the moms might be mad for a while. But when I stepped inside, my boss waved me over to the front desk and said, "Janette, six of your students were pulled from Lemon class. You'll only have three today."

This is why I say Korean hagwon mothers are nuts. They were upset enough with a change in staffing that they pulled their kids out of our school overnight. I had ten minutes of warning before I had to go start my class. What a difficult thing to do! I had to go into the room, pretending everything was okay, being perky and cheerful and teaching vegetable vocabulary. The three kids kept on asking where everyone else was, and I just said that they were gone that day. I was so afraid of pissing off the remaining mothers that I felt like I couldn’t discipline or yell at them. By the end of the day, the remaining three were pulled (I don't blame the mothers for not wanting to have a three student class).

Lemon class is officially disbanded.

Obviously, I'm still kind of upset. I can't imagine something like this happening in the U.S. If U.S. private school moms were angered, they'd have a whole bunch of meetings, and if they couldn't agree after all of that, maybe they’d take their kids out. It would take weeks, or at least days. But hagwons aren't exactly the same as private schools. Plus, not to stereotype the mothers or anything, but these are very wealthy women, most of whom have never worked, and are very used to having their own way.

But it all happened so fast. It actually had nothing to do with me or my teaching (my coworkers have been telling me how much the kids have improved since I took over). However, that does leave me without a morning kindergarten, which is a five hour long class.

My school has been pretty good to me, considering. They told me that until December, when the next English teacher leaves, I can fill in my morning class times with workbook writing and paperwork. Obviously I'd prefer to have a class, but they didn't fire me or reduce my hours ... That’s something.

Anyway, aside from the pity from everyone, missing my kids (I was really attached to all of them), and general dismay at the situation, I'm doing fine. I've still got my job, I no longer have to be cheerful in the morning, and I can probably milk this for free drinks from my coworkers.

Hey, a girl's got to have her priorities.

Corn!!

What is up with Koreans and their corn?

I don't really like corn. It's fine on the cob, but anyone who's ever lived or eaten with me, probably knows that I don't care for corn.

But for Koreans, it's a staple. Seriously. They put corn on their pizza, in their sandwiches, and just about anywhere you wouldn't expect it. It seems like they like to put corn in foreign food. Today I bought a ham and cheese sandwich (they call it toast) and it had ham, cheese, eggs with corn in them, and kiwi sauce. It's not bad or anything, but I'm kind of sick of discovering corn in everything. Lots of egg things have corn in them. Bah.

Just thought I'd share that rant with everyone.

Wednesday ...

I totally jinxed it with my last post. I swear, this job is a roller coaster ride. Except that cliche doesn't fit completely because you can get off roller coasters. And even in a roller coaster you know that you're pretty much safe.

I'm not implying that it's unsafe here (please don't freak out!). It's very safe in Seoul. But you're strapped in to a roller coaster. I'm kind of operating without a clue. Or a seatbelt, if I feel like riding the cliche train (I don't. Is riding the ___ train a cliche? Yargh!!). Anyway, the point is, every time I think I've got a handle on my job, something happens to yank me off my feet (cliche count: 6).

Last post, I felt like maybe I was getting a feel for the kids (cliche count:7). And that's partway true; they do like me more. But the reason the class was so much easier to teach last week was that one of my students was on vacation. She's not a problem child (8), but still. The minute Amy was back, she wouldn't stop speaking Korean, and everyone else started up again. I would say something about bad apples, but I'm trying to avoid more cliches (nice try, Janette, cliche count: 9).

Anyway, my job doesn't suck, but it's quite the challenge. And if just one of my children is gone for the day, everything is so much easier! Today the sweetest, most obedient student was gone, and everyone was easier to handle. That doesn't make any sense. Shouldn't her shining example (10) be lifting the cumulative goodness in my class?

Also, Wednesdays are Science day. The kids love science class. I don't know why, because they have the lamest projects, and they take ten minutes. We're supposed to stretch it to half an hour, and most teachers manage to make it last all afternoon. I still haven't gotten that far. Anyway, I have nightmares (11?) about science class. Today was a good example of why. The kids were good, I had control over them, but our project involved a dark blue dye. What kind of idiot decides that they want to give three and four year olds their own bottles of dark blue dye? Who is trying to ruin my life (cliche count: 12) ? Thank goodness, no dye got on anyone, but that was because I doled out ink with the miserliness of Scrooge (maybe 13; it's hard to say).

Okay, so that's about it. I'd better stop whining before I make anyone think I'm unhappy. Or the count gets too old (too late! Just for that, we're bumping you up to 15).

Down by the Bay ...

It's getting harder to update nowadays because I've gotten a little bit busier. But here are some of the highlights:

I don't want to jinx it, but this week was the first one so far where I felt like my kids and I actually got along. It was only a slight change; they listened a little better and smiled a little more. Somehow, though, those tiny changes made a huge difference in the week. Also, I've had this problem child (she kind of bullies the other students) from the start. But I've punished her enough that she doesn't even argue with me anymore. For instance, when a child does something wrong, I make them put their head down. She used to moan and stare at me until I literally put my hand on her head. Now if I say, "Head down!" she does it and will wait until I say she can put her head up. This is a big accomplishment, silly though it may sound.

We also need to decorate our rooms by the end of August. The girl who taught before me didn't really do anything, so I'm stuck with pretty much an entire room that's bare. So far, I've put up a calendar, the days of the week, weather, seasons, the alphabet, numbers, and colors. I made a tree using cutouts of the children's hands, and I designated a section of wall for their art. There's still so much to fill, so if anyone has any bright ideas, please let me know. Oh, and here's something I'm kind of proud of: we sing Down by the Bay in class, and for their new nametags, I put different animals from that song next to their names. For instance, I made a whale with a polka dot tail. I think it's cute, but it took a long time, so I hope the mothers don't object for some reason.

Also, I went back to Hungdae during the day. My coworker, D, and I had mexican food and gelato. I also discovered that I like Hungdae quite a bit in the daytime. It's cute; it doesn't look like the rest of Seoul. They have all sorts of restaurants and such, and it's relatively close to where we live, so I have a feeling I'll be there during the day more often.

We also went to Hongik Univ. area. Apparently, that's a women's university. You can kind of tell, because the place is full of little stores. There were scads of boutiques, some western, some Korean, and streets full of the outdoor vendors. I really wanted to buy a pair of shoes (only 5000 won, aka $4) while we were there, but being that I had 4000 won to my name, it was mostly window shopping. I did end up buying this key ring for my phone. It has a picture of Gu Joon Pyo from Boys Over Flowers on it.

Boys Over Flowers is a Korean drama that isn't on anymore, but is still wildly popular. It's hilariously bad, so it naturally sucks you in. There are four main guys and one female lead. As a result, you can find all sorts of things with the guy's pictures pasted on them (Dunkin Donuts ads, makeup bags, cans of Coke ... ). In case you're wondering, Gu Joon Pyo is far and away the most attractive. There are a lot of really beautiful Korean men out there. It's enough to make a western girl feel like the elephant man. But Gu Joon Pyo is the most gorgeous. Plus, he has curly hair, which is kind of unusual for a Korean (I'm thinking perm). Anyway, given that I'm already regressing to middle school mentality, I may as well have a picture of a tv star attached to my phone.

I don't know if I mentioned this, but apparently women in Korea always have keychains on their cell phones. There's actually a special spot on the phone so that you can attach a chain there. The key is to find the biggest, ugliest, brightest thing possible. I may have gone in the other direction, but I think I get points for picking a Korean tv star.