I hope that everyone has been having a great holiday season! Obviously I've been busy, which is why I've not posted a new blog for several weeks. Teaching has been going really well, and I'm becoming more and more fond of a lot of my students. I've also been having a lot of fun with friends and continuing to experience Korea.
Missing Thanksgiving was not too terrible--as the holiday isn't celebrated here, I worked through it and didn't have an overwhelming reminder of missing out on quality family time. I was even able to wake up at 6am and Skype most of my extended family after they finished Thanksgiving dinner.
But I'll admit it, being away for Christmas was pretty difficult. There were a lot of people I really wished I could be celebrating the holidays with back in the U.S. and a lot of people who wished I could be there as well. I hadn't anticipated how much I would be missed. It was a selfish move for me to come to Korea, and I'd only counted on having to prevent myself from being homesick. That's been the easy part. The unexpected and painful part is not being able to physically be there for the people I care about, and Christmas time saw the sharpest that pain has been in my whole stay here.
However, with no chance of going home for the holidays, I made the most of what Korea had to offer. Christmas is a social/party holiday here, rather than one spent primarily with family, so on Christmas Eve I went downtown with my Korean friends, Zenia and Jae Kyung. The streets were packed, even moreso than a typical Saturday night. My friends and I started our evening by taking a photo together at a small shop which seemed to specialize in 90s style portraits.
Have a Merry Korean Christmas!
Afterward, we went to the movie theater to see Mission Impossible 4. As an understatement, I'll tell you that Koreans usually think alike. Everyone was at the movie theater, and MI4 was already full. So my friends and I went to Selly's Cafe, where, for 5,000won ($5) per person, you could sit (for as long as you wanted) in a private room with pillows and a TV and help yourself to the beverage/ice cream bar at the front of the cafe.
My friend Zenia and I at Selly's Cafe.
We were going to go to Bubble Bar, but it was too early to dance there, so we spent the rest of the evening in Soul Train drinking rum-and-coke. Trying to find a taxi home was impossible. The buses stopped at midnight, and, although at 2am on Saturday there are normally tons of available taxis, that night there were very, very few. As the snow piled up, more taxi drivers stopped working, and the Christmas Eve partiers lined up on all the busy roads trying to get home. In spite of that little obstacle, it was a really wonderful night with my friends.
Christmas Eve, downtown.
The next day, Christmas, I went to German Bar to have a party with the other foreigners. We all brought food and had a delicious Christmas potluck, complete with beer and wine.
Christmas day, at German Bar.
I did receive some wonderful Christmas cards and even a package from my parents which included a new outfit I'll be wearing to a New Year's Eve party tomorrow night. Overall, it was an interesting and happy Christmas here in Korea with great friends, even though I missed everyone at home.
A Few Highlights of the Last Month or So
I spent last weekend in Seoul for the DMZ Tour. We actually got to cross into North Korea for a few minutes, coincidentally only a few hours after Kim Jong-Il died. That evening we ate at an all-you-can-eat Brazilian Steakhouse in Itaewon for about $30. My coworker Chris and I went to Hongdae, another part of Seoul, to go clubbing, and I danced for hours at Club Cocoon. It was one of the most fun nights I've had here.
With an R.O.K. soldier in the conference room
on the North Korean side of the DMZ.
At Copacabana's Steakhouse.
On December 10, Zenia and Jae Kyung took me to see the Christmas lights at the Boseong tea fields. We rode the train over in the afternoon, so I got to see a lot of the Korean countryside. It's very mountainous, and I think it's one of the most beautiful countries that I've visited. We also went to the winter beach and ate Gamjatang while we were in Boseong.
Jae Kyung on the train.
At the winter beach in Boseong.
With my friends at the tea fields.
Ru-dol-pa, the red-nosed dragon, at Boseong tea fields.
Other new experiences:
Playing around at Ethnic Cafe downtown.
The cable car at Naejang mountain.
Celebrating Maggie's birthday at Ashley's all-you-can-eat Buffet.
During our overnight Temple Stay at Ssangbongsa.
Hiking and visiting Gangchunsa.
At the top of Medeung mountain.
Out to dinner with friends.
"Eat, drink, and be merry." It's a really fitting slogan for my past few weeks here. ^.^
A good friend told me before I left for Korea that waking up every morning knowing that you will not run into anyone who knows about your past, your family, or your old friends is one of the most freeing experiences someone could ever have.
I fully agree with that statement. I didn't come to Korea to escape. I'm content with my past, and of course, I miss my family and friends. However, being able to wake up without any long-standing commitments, meeting people who hold no preconceptions about me, ultimately rediscovering who I am apart from any supportive group of my family, friends, or previous interests--it is the most free I've ever felt, and it's a wonderful feeling.
I've been so fortunate with my experience here.
My school is very well-run, and the kids have been pretty great. Before coming to Korea, I'd never really dealt with young kids, as I'm a youngest sibling. I wasn't sure how I would handle them, but so far, it's been going really well. All in all, kids are just goofy. Even the most defiant boys from my year six classes just want to goof around with their friends, and as long as I keep them busy and engaged in the lesson, then they're happy. As for the younger kids... well, yesterday some year threes came into class singing, "It's raining day! Hallelujah!" I corrected them, and played a bit of the song with lyrics for them to see and hear the actual words of the song. So, I had three eight-year-old Korean boys (usually some of my biggest troublemakers) singing, "It's raining men!" as class began. One of the most bizarre things I've seen, but amusing nonetheless.
Pungam-dong, the neighborhood where I live and work, is a really nice part of Gwangju. I live less than five minutes from a beautiful reservoir with a big track around it that's surrounded by hills and trees. The track also includes a couple detours, some exercise parks, and an incredible rose garden. Roses are my favorite flower, so one of the Korean teachers helped give me the Korean name Jang Mi (장미), Rose. Also less than five minutes from my apartment is a small mountain, although I'd never call it small as it took me almost two hours to hike.
Standing at the summit of Pungam mountain.
My apartment building is on the left (circular windows).
The street that my school is located on.
I've had some great opportunities in Korea that I never expected. As I've written about before, I've had a fun time camping, going to Noraebangs, watching baseball and meeting a pro-baseball player. In the past few weeks, I've had more experiences to add to that list.
I got a free ticket to the F1 race at the 2011 Korean Grand Prix.
This was an amazing day!
At the International Kimchi Festival, I discovered why old Kimchi is better than fresh Kimchi.
I attended the last home soccer game of the season in the Gwangju World Cup Stadium.
The Halloween Bash at Speakeasy was fantastic.
I celebrated as Sarah Palin, with a dramatic end of the night. :)
The best part of my journey, though, are the people I've met. All these events were only fun because of the people who invited me to come along. Even when I'm just watching The Inbetweeners, a British comedy show, with my new friends, I'm guaranteed to have a good night.
I want to cycle back to the freedom I discussed at the beginning of this post, because I realize that without my new friends and how accepting and inclusive they have been, such freedom would be a nightmare. You take a risk when you go this far away from home. You give up the security of having your family, friends, and familiar places to depend on. That's why so many people thought I was crazy when I told them I was planning to teach in Korea for a year; everyone, including myself, fears the unknown. But I'm happy to say that sometimes it brings you the chance to grow as a person in a way you could never do while attached to a comfortable environment. That's been my Korean experience, at least.
Last weekend, I went camping with my coworker Maggie and some other friends since Monday was a Korean holiday. After a delicious Shabu-shabu dinner with some Korean coworkers on Friday night, I left early Saturday morning for Sunyoudo Island. We took a two hour bus ride to Gunsan, a taxi to the ferry terminal, and an hour and a half ferry ride to the island. The whole weekend was incredible, and aside from it being super windy, the weather was nice.
We had a campfire both nights and roasted marshmallows.
Everyone prepared delicious meals.
We rented bikes and rode them across bridges to explore all four islands.
Some of us went for a swim despite the Autumn chill. The Koreans thought we were crazy.
We climbed up an extremely dangerous mountain which Graham named, "Death Rock."
I want to expand on my experience climbing this mountain, because I had a bit of a shock which I don't want to forget. Let me state up front that I didn't make it to the top. When we were more than halfway up, we had to climb sideways across the mountain to get to the next rope. There were no real footholds or handholds, no ropes or harnesses, and at this point, I told the others to go on without me. Then I sat there on the side of the mountain, hundreds of feet in the air, and I thought about my fear.
I want to include an excerpt from a lecture on spirituality I read a few weeks ago:
"I’m going to tell you a story to relate this. Before I learned about Gnosis, I was in an earthquake. I always considered myself a smart kind of person, and on top of that I thought I could handle pretty much anything, but I learned—luckily—that I was completely wrong. I was in an earthquake in California and I was near the worst area. On the global scale it was not a big earthquake; there have been and will be much worse. I have had friends who have been in much worse ones than the one I experienced. Nonetheless, that experience taught me a lot. When that earthquake happened, I heard it coming. It is a sound you cannot explain; only someone who has been in an earthquake knows what it is. I heard it coming. In direct proportion to the arrival of that sound, my humanity left me. Psychologically, I became a mere animal: terrified, driven by instinct to survive. Previously, I thought I was a rational person and if I was to experience an earthquake I would not be afraid but would just have to go outside and there I would be fine. That rational response does not happen. I lost touch with my intellect, it was gone. I could not reason. Instinct to survive took over. Anyone who has been in a great trauma has had that experience, and knows what it is like."
I remembered this story while I looked down over the island and tried to stop shaking. I knew my experience could not be as terrifying as an earthquake, but I had reached a moment where I'd lost touch with all my sensibilities. I had clung to the awkward face of the rock, my legs shaking horribly and my fingers trembling, my sneakers slipping along the crumbling indentations in the rock, and all that was left inside of me was fear. I was certain I would fall. Once I had crawled back to a safer spot, I focused on my breathing and tried to calm down, because if I didn't stop shaking I'd never be able to climb back down off the mountain. There was only one way up and down. But relaxing was impossible as the fear of death kept racing through me. I couldn't be rational and take life moment by moment; I kept thinking of how I didn't want to die this way, I had wanted to do more, become a better person, I deserved the chance to do those things...
In summary, climbing death rock while out of shape and unprepared was probably the most foolish thing I've ever done. However, I've realized through my direct experience that I have been wasting a lot my time not being the person I want to be, not doing the things I want to accomplish, because I think I'll live forever. Obviously, I know that many of life's circumstances are out of my control, that anything could happen at any moment and I could lose everything I have, but I'd never been so fully aware of it as I was on the mountain. My experience probably won't have a huge impact on anyone else's life, but as I said earlier, it is one I want to always remember, so I've written about it here.
My coworker Kirk has been taking me around Gwangju, showing me the sights and teaching me how to survive here. On Saturday night, he brought his girlfriend and me downtown to a friend's birthday party. We ate at Outback Steakhouse, which was surprisingly similar to the ones back home, and then went to a bar and tried an iced fruit drink with soju in it. (Soju is a traditional Korean alcoholic beverage.) Afterwards, we met up with the party and went to a Noraebang. In a Noraebang, you pretty much get a private room in which you and your friends can sing karaoke, order food and drinks, and have an incredible time.
Kirk and I singing some Tenacious D
The next morning, we joined another coworker, Maggie, her husband, and Iris for a trip by bus to the bamboo forest in DamYang. This forest covered a mountain, had a gift shop filled with products made from bamboo, and I even got to try bamboo ice cream.
The green color is a bit intimidating, but it actually tasted really good.
There was a cultural village in the forest as well where we saw a Jindo, a traditional Korean dog. Iris told me that once a Jindo recognizes someone as its owner, it will never take another owner. To buy a purebred Jindo, you have to go to Jindo island (not joking), and you can't take the dog out of Korea. We also watched a man making fans with bamboo in the cultural village.
After the bamboo forest, we tried a delicious Korean dish called Tteoggalbi and enjoyed lunch before leaving DamYang. When we got back to Gwangju, we bought tickets to the baseball game and sat in front of the Ministop at the stadium. While we were waiting for the game to start, a Korean man sat down with us, saying he wanted to learn English. He was the medic for Gwangju's baseball team, so he brought Maggie's husband Graham to the locker rooms to meet Travis, the Australian pitcher for the Gwangju Tigers. Graham invited him out for drinks after the game.
Thus, we ended up at Speakeasy hanging out with Travis later that night.
I've been to a very few baseball games in the US, but the crowd in Korea seemed much more interested, or at least better coordinated in their cheering (as you'll see in the clip at the end of this entry). The energy in the stadium was similar to that of an extremely close-scoring or major rivalry football game back home. There were even cheerleaders and a guy called V11 who led the crowd in chants and songs including Mama Mia and La Bamba. (I didn't really understand how those songs were relevant, but it was fun to watch.) The most popular food to eat during the ballgame was fried chicken, and we toasted our beers with the loud Korean fan next to us. The fans had amazingly great sportsmanship; even when the DoSung Bears were beating Gwangju's Kia Tigers 7-2 in the eighth inning, everyone was still cheering and having a good time. No one was getting angry, throwing beer bottles, or starting fights with fans of the opposing team. Maybe you think that's half the fun of a baseball game, but from where I was sitting, everyone had a lot of fun without it.
For those of you who read the link I included in my last entry, you'll understand that age is perceived somewhat differently in Korea. (If you missed it, here it is again.)
In Korea, age is very important. There are three variations of the Korean language, one used when speaking to someone younger than you, one used when you are speaking to someone older than you, and one used when speaking to those the same age as you are. If you've ever studied Spanish, this is comparable to using an usted form when showing respect to someone older than you rather than the tu form of the verb. In English, it's a bit like referring to someone as "Mrs. Smith" rather than by her first name because you want to show respect or you may not know her on a personal level. This is why, as I mentioned in the last entry, it isn't impolite to ask someone how old they are. Those who are older and/or married are shown the most respect and are greeted with a bow. Your age indicates your ranking within the hierarchy of Korean society.
The Korean staff at my school have asked me a lot of questions concerning my age, which was strange for me. It hasn't mattered much to me since I turned eighteen, other than the whole drinking alcohol law. In the US, if, at a young age, you have graduated from college and are successful in a career (not that I am, just as an example), you would receive admiration for your ambition. At least, I really respect the people my age who already have internships or jobs at very renowned companies or are taking the fast track through pharmacy school. Age doesn't seem to hold the same importance in our societal ranking as how much money you make or what position you hold in whatever company. I'm pretty sure that most people would show a lot more respect to a 25-year-old Donald Trump in-the-making than to the 40-year-old who cashes them out at the gas station. I'm not saying this to be offensive; this is just how I believe American society works.
I by no means have a comprehensive understanding of the Korean society. (I've only been here four days.) However, from what I've learned about it so far, it has its pros and cons in comparison to the American system. For one thing, I hate it when kids are bratty to their parents or people much older than them for no apparent reason, and I'm almost positive that would never fly in Korea. Also, it's a bit tragic how we look at the elderly in the US. Sometimes we complain about having to be around "old people" or having to work with them in various industries. We also put the elderly into nursing homes, which can be a good and bad thing. It's good because these people often need medical attention around-the-clock and we have to work. I just think it would be lonely; what an awful feeling to be kept away from the rest of society and only receive occasional visits from your family.
I wonder how much one's accomplishments factor into this whole rank-by-age system in Korea, though. That seems important to me, too. I guess I'll have to do a bit more research to find out.
-Almost everyone who drives a car (at least in my part of the city) has a super nice one.
-The driving here is crazier than anywhere in the US.
-I work at one of the largest hagwons in Gwangju.
-Korean employment is based on a vertical hierarchy; what the boss says is always the rule, no discussion necessary.
-Korean hospitals are extremely efficient, even with lots of patients.
-Koreans have a very strange system for determining age. Read more about it here.
-It is not impolite to ask someone how old they are; this is necessary to determine which level of respect (and language) you should use when speaking to them.
-My bathroom is actually a large shower with a toilet in it.
-I need to figure out how to turn on the hot water in my apartment.
-Mattresses are much firmer than in the US.
-There are many, many similar-looking parks in Gwangju. (This is a problem when you're lost.)
-"Fanny" is a British slang word for vagina. (Think twice before you say "fanny pack" next time.)
-"Jill" is a Korean slang word for vagina.
-Koreans really enjoy fried chicken. And watermelon.
-A Korean version of schnitzel is also really popular.
-The milk here tastes better than the milk at home. Then again, I've been drinking skim milk for the past three months, so anything would be an improvement.
-They really do eat dog here. Maybe that's why it's no problem for everyone to let the dogs sit out in the middle of the street.
-My facebook now offers me the option of listing my blood type at the top of my profile.
-I need to learn how to read Korean or I may starve.
-My phone's alarm clock plays the best ringtone I've ever heard.
You have to create a certain personality for blogs, whether it is similar or different from the personality you have in your real-world life. This idea always fascinated me when I was growing up--I went from livejournal to xanga to myspace, reinventing myself with each new venue.
The reason the concept bothers me now is that I've been trying to eliminate the need for a false front in my daily life, but that's a difficult feat to perform in a blog setting. In a blog you have to censor according to your audience, and of course you are limited by the medium of written word. Then there is the issue that you never have enough time or perhaps a clear enough memory to include every detail--the ones you don't find important at the moment could become important later. These are just a few problems with the art of blogging.
Nonetheless, it's a good means of communication. Instead of a hundred emails back home, I can write a blog entry and update my family and friends on what's happening in my life. There is no pressure for a response, so they only need to read if they are truly interested--I like that facet of it. Mostly, I'm writing a blog because of my father. He's read many blogs of foreign teachers in South Korea and gleaned any useful or amusing information out of them to share with me. It's been extremely helpful in my preparation for my year away from home and also very entertaining for him. Sometimes I think he's more excited about my Korean adventure than I am.
I am really excited, naturally a little nervous too. I've always loved to travel, experiencing the way a different environment, a different people, a different way of life can open my eyes to more aspects of existence than I could ever know by staying safely in Ohio. There is so much beauty in cultural differences, and that's the part of traveling I wish I could capture in a blog. I wish I could effectively share that experience with my readers.
So, I'm going to attempt it. I know it won't be perfect, but I'd love to give a glimpse of travel to those who've never had the opportunity to do it for themselves, or for those who wouldn't want to do it for various valid reasons. I understand the limitations, and I know how fortunate I am that I can leave home and become immersed in a new culture. For everyone else, I will try to use this blog to share the lessons of cultural diversity which I learn this year. I hope that by comparing my experiences in Korea to my lifestyle in the United States, some useful knowledge can emerge. I want most of all that this blog is not a waste of my time to write, nor a waste of your time to read.
In a sense that is my 'blogging manifesto,' and I've written it so I won't forget the reason I'm making this. Wish me luck.
