Deadlines

Lacey and I will be in Vietnam in two weeks. My first year in Korea is almost over. It's finally started to sink in, and now that we've crossed the deadline*, I feel a lot calmer about it than I did a month ago. Only four more lessons with my favourite kids, but only three more to survive with the awful ones. Undoubtedly, saying goodbye to my students is the part that makes me feel saddest about leaving. On my worst days, those kids unfailingly lift my mood and remind me why I'm here. Even though English teaching involves a large dollop of theatre and acting, I feel more like myself in the classroom than in any other job I've had.

Since I've extended my contract by one month, I'm now seeing the same part of the year as when I first arrived. Apples are back in season, as are the thick-skinned purple grapes, and the cicadas are loud, but back down to tolerable levels (for a couple of weeks they were loud enough to hurt your ears and drown out all conversation.) We've been watching a lot of 'River Cottage' recently, which is a pleasant but frustrating experience when living in a small urban apartment, but it makes me think that Koreans really are pretty good at living 'in tune with the seasons', as Hugh would say. Their seasonal customs are a little more rigid than we Westerners are used to, but they do make a lot of sense. I don't personally understand passing up on the delicious 'samgyetang' during cooler weather, but it is nice that the supermarket changes its vegetable display regularly.

Something else I've noticed: speaking Korean really has made the last few months a LOT easier. Taxi drivers understand directions better, I can ask for help in shops and explain my weird dietary needs in restaurants, signs are no longer a mystery. It has without doubt been the biggest help in adjusting to life as an expat. I'm going to miss studying it back home, and I'm sure that finding a decent class/tutor next year will be high on the list of things to do.

Also, the food situation has improved with time. I still don't like seaweed, though I can handle it mixed into food, and frankly I'm unlikely to ever come around on squid and octopus, but tofu and spiciness are both pretty much non-issues now. Figuring out how to cook at home has been really important too: Korean cuisine is healthy, but wherever you are, restaurants aren't going to be the best place for healthy eating. Oh, and vegan ramen. That's important too :)

I had thought that by this point in the year I'd be desperate to be out of here, but I'm really not. I'm excited about Vietnam, eating non-Korean food and, most importantly, about catching up with people I've failed to email regularly, but I'm also really happy that I'm coming back. Korea's well and truly under my skin, and I'm anticipating major kimchi cravings by the time I get back here.

*I just finished a book set in Niagara Falls, and the 'deadline' was the point in the river at which the current is so strong, going over the falls is unavoidable. Can't find a link to say if it's real or not though!

That vital ingredient in every good night out,

as every foreigner in Korea knows, is the norae bang. The concept is simple: singing along to your favourite tunes with your friends in the comfort of a private room. The microphones add a ton of echo, the videos don't make a lick of sense and at least two tambourines are always provided.

If you've never had the pleasure, it's hard to imagine. As a non-karaoke singer, it sounded so awkward to me at first: singing? In a room? For fun? But from that first weekend with all my new co-workers, I was converted. Belting out a song - even a rubbish song - is just so cathartic. I've come to think of it as communal shower-singing, without the nakedness (that's of course reserved for the bath-house, where singing is rather less common). I guess that's why Koreans only know about the joys of singing in the shower from movies: they already have something even better.

Usually, of course, everyone's a few sheets to the wind by the time a norae bang idea comes to fruition. And, usually, the singing ability ranges from acceptable to fighting cats. But this last weekend was a norae bang experience I never quite expected. We were on a beach trip to Jin-ha with a group of women - including more than a few who had some serious pipes. When they sang the Cranberries' 'Dreams' I was impressed. When they sang Sarah McLaughlin's 'Angel' the whole room was transfixed. No one spoke, no one moved and even as a memory, it gives me goosebumps. Later in the night, one of our singers even had me convinced that Evanescence produced at least one decent song.

Tonight is a friend's birthday dinner, and a norae bang sesh is definitely on the cards, as well it should be. With a new group of folk, it will no doubt be different from last weekend, but here's hoping it's another corker. Happy Birthday Mark! :)

But I didn't pray to him I promise!

My favorite 3rd graders have been learning about jobs recently. Today, our target vocabulary included 'pop idol'. Actually very easy to teach since 'idol' is a Konglish word with an almost identical meaning to our current usage of the word. But, never one to shy away from a chance to teach a little etymology, I thought I'd give them some background. Knowing that at least one of them goes to church, I asked if any of them did. Of course its the cutest child. The one I'm going to hide in my suitcase when I leave.

Soooo, I started by saying that in the church, they say you shouldn't pray to anybody except God, and that praying to statues is bad. Of course, throwing the word 'statue' in there didn't help things. A quick brush past that into a hasty "praying to anything that isn't God is bad and 'idol' used to mean things that people prayed to that aren't God. So the old meaning of 'idol' was bad, but now it just means people that other people really like." Our one little church-goer interrupted me to explain that she has seen pop singers but she never prayed to them! Honest! But really! She didn't pray to them!

Well that'll teach me to start launching into unprepared lectures on word origins to the under-10 year olds. Maybe next time we'll stick to bingo and charades. (But no hangman of course :)

We should reduce our computer game time.

As anyone with even the most passing of acquaintances with Korea will know, this country is nuts about computer games. Sometimes I wonder if the entire economy is run on PC-bangs (smoke-filled computer rooms packed with ardent gamers and cup-ramen) and hagwons (after school academies).

At least one of my students doesn't think it's such a good thing...

I think we should reduce our computer game time.
When we shouldn't (don't) reduce it, our school test score will be lower, and heard parent's are nagging. And when we didn't doing exercize and always playing computer games and eating food, our body will be fatter and fatter. Is it finish? No, when we play computer game time longer, we can get computer poisoning. And our eye become red, so our body will be unhealthy. Do you want to be like this? So, you should reduce your computergame times.

That's me told then. No more Sims 3. For today.

Accidental Ambassadors

As the sun came up on Sunday morning, I realised that, even when it bugs the crap out of me, Korea doesn't bother me much anymore. I guess this is the beginning of the end of culture shock.

I've heard plenty of claims here about people who never experienced culture shock, and I can't honestly be anything but envious of that. For all that this is the fourth (or fifth if you count Scotland *^^* ) country I've lived in, and I should be used to it by now, Korea was, and still is, a shock to the system. The daily frustrations and irritations don't go away, and neither does the feeling of being an outsider. Even my rudimentary Korean skills will continue to surprise Koreans, and I will go on unconciously breaking rules I had no idea existed. But I find it a lot easier to shrug it off now.

I think the hardest thing is something I only just realised last week. Being a foreigner in Korea, a land with such recent exposure to the rest of the world, brings a feeling of responsibility for the public image of all foreigners. Getting off the subway one day last week, I bashed into the back of a little girl and immediately felt terrible. People are unfailingly pushy on subways here, but obviously no one wants to shove into an 8 year old. My first thought was 'Oh no, her mother will think foreigners are such clumsy oafs.' I doubt that she even thought anything of it, but it doesn't stop the initial anxiety: the feeling that one is about to offend and damage a Korean's view of all foreigners.

Without intending to be anything of the sort, I think we all end up being ambassadors. We are still among the early wave of foreigners here, and our behavior does affect how people think of us. I think my feeling that things are easier to deal with is because I feel more at peace about that role. That doesn't mean I never ignore rules of etiquette in public, frankly that would be too hard, but I accept that it is what it is. Some people will think badly of me because I'm a foreigner, and some won't. As my mom always used to say, “You can't change what other people will think.” Even if that movie says you can :)

I will never complain about Scottish weather again.

In the last week or so, Lacey and I have booked our flights for our end-of-contract trip. I can't even express how excited I am. Non-Korean food! Clothes that fit! No language barrier! For weeks on end! Eeeeeeee! So if anyone will be around Glasgow or Edinburgh between the 20th and 29th of September, let me know – want to catch up with as many folk as possible! That's in between consuming huge amounts of potato scones and Fry's Chocolate Creams mmmmmmmm........

So that means that in between teaching, complaining about the hot weather, and laying semi-comatose under my air-conditioner, I have a lot to do before my contract finishes on September 10th. Visa forms to be completed, an FBI check to arrange (including a rather fruitless trip to the police station) and a place to store my stuff while I'm back home. Oh, and a way to move the stuff I still have stored in Scotland. A small price to pay for such a great year. I have had down days about Korea, I think all expats do, but she's been good to me, and I'm really excited about Busan (and the beaches!) next year. And hopefully a little less time on the subway. :)

A couple of quotes from moody middle-schoolers:

I never start to dance before tomorrow.

I tried studying last year. (I guess it didn't work out...)

And, a 'gloomy' dialogue from Julia in Twinkle class, author of the knitting pirate story. This assignment was very open-ended so I take no credit for any of it!

Characters: Kavin – 15, boy, smart, don't have friend;
Jack – 15, boy, good at sports, don't have father
Setting: At the school. In lunchtime. In cafeteria

Kavin: Today, I am again to eat lunch alone. Why don't I have many friends?

Jack: Hello, Kavin? Why does you eat alone? Can I sit here?

Kavin: Oh, Yes. I always welcom! Friends are hate me. I eat everyday alone.

Jack: That's to bad. It's secret. I don't have my father. He die to some car accident.

Kavin: Really? Oh...

(They're crying)

Jack: So, I want to make many friends. They can make me fun. Do you want to me to friend?

Kavin: Yes I want.

Jack: Good! Now we're friend!!

The Pervs are OK

So my rowdiest middle-school class were talking about their Korean teacher in class today. I have shared quite a few classes with their teacher over my time here, and I know her to be kind and popular with the students. Still, I wasn't surprised these guys were saying that she is very strict and always hits them. And that (of course!) they are perfect students who never do anything bad to cause this. Then the instigator of the conversation leaned back, put his hands behind his head, and said '변태' (byeon tae), or in English, pervert. He was rather taken aback that I understood the word, and someone else started explaining that the teacher was always touching them for no reason. It was very obvious that they were joking, but my Western sensibilities panicked. This would be serious stuff back home!

So in the break between classes, I asked our Korean manager what I should do. She chuckled, and said I should just let the teacher know, and she could deal with them. So, right before the next class, I did. When some of the other students realised what was happening, the boy in question ran into the hall and threw himself on the floor in a hugely entertaining display of humility.

It seems that in Korean, calling your teacher a pervert is just part of the usual banter. Glad to have that one cleared up.