Stick Day

Stick Day and my school's English Festival fell on the same day this year. Stick Day or, November 11th (11-11) was described to me as Korea's very own Valentine's Day. Stick candy, or pepero, is the star of Stick Day -- "smooth chocolate attached to the fragrant biscuit."

I mistook the boxes and boxes of this stick candy at school for part of the English Festival festivities, and dare I say it was good planning that the two collided onto the same day (haha, planning in Korea). But the kids' moods were sugar-happy for the English Festival, which had been a hugely stressful two week process for me and my co-teacher.

So thank you, tasteless biscuit sticks dipped in chocolate. And Happy Korean Valentine's Day, all. I <3 you.

What a day: Walking, Talking, and an Unexpected Party

**This post is from a while back, early October -- got lost in the muddle of things. It's all about housecleaning today :D

Refreshed from the holiday (i.e. day off from school), I got tons of lesson planning done and I got to listen to and watch, through the window, the students at Doam practice a dance for the upcoming sports day. Who I presume was the phy ed teacher chanted into the loudspeaker as the kids danced their hearts out to a Korean song that belongs in a Wes Anderson film. It was so fun. The kids were loving being outside and I couldn't help but root for run through after run through; I could've listened to the sounds of sports day practice all day.

After lunch, Sin Hyeon Gyeong asked if I wanted to go for a walk. We walked around the school grounds, including the playground. Students were playing soccer, swinging, jumping on equipment, riding bikes, and chattering away. I told Sin Hyeon Gyeong that I wished I could go back to elementary school. We laughed about getting older -- queasy stomachs after swinging and "mom" worries. She has two boys so her mom worries are real, mine just sympathetic and about my little brothers. But her attitude about those worries are right on. She told me, "I tell them to be safe. If you want to climb high into a tree, take the time to get down." She is the coolest. 

We also talked about Hangul and King Sejong. He was a good king, a good man, and he invented a writing and reading system that works. Korea has an illiteracy rate that is essentially zero. That stat was particularly astounding to me when I first learned about it. I'm not exactly sure why, but I could better understand why it was perfect to take a day off from school to celebrate. To celebrate Hangul, what it means to and what it gives to the Korean people, and to honor a good king who was also a good man. The pride runs deep in Korea. I greatly love and admire that.

After school, I had sort of an unexpected party. Two days before the holiday, I was finally able to walk "home" with the second grade teacher. We had made plans to do this during my first week of school after she discovered I liked hiking and that we lived in the same area. She speaks some English (quite well) but with my lack of knowing Korean, our conversation was limited yet pleasant. We talked about the upcoming holiday, hiking (at Bukhansan and Mount Yongmun), and the various "things" around us. She would point to something and say what is was in Korean and then I'd say what it was in English. When we made it to her house, she generously invited me inside and we ate dinner -- water kimchi, kimchi, rice, and soup (delicious).

This successful walk and talk led to a visit to my apartment. I knew for sure that it was going to be the second grade teacher and the President of the school. Now, this is something that would have made me mildly uncomfortable in America -- having such a respected teacher and the President of the school coming over to my house. But being in Korea, I'm like, "Come on down!! You're the next visitor to my tiny apartment!" Totally unfazed. It wasn't until we arrived at my apartment that I realized two other teachers from my school would also be joining us -- for a small church service. Five people. In my apartment. Again, bring it on, Korea.

However unexpected, it was a great experience. We sang a hymn, they asked me where my English Bible was (um, in America), and they brought traditional house-warming gifts of tissues, laundry detergent, and bottled grape juice. The President showed us pictures of her sister's family, who live in America, and they enjoyed looking at the pictures I have taped to the walls. We went out for dinner at a place just up the street from my apartment. Rice, fish, kimchi, soup, rice water, and loads of other Korean side dishes I can't name. As we were saying out fare-thee-wells, I was asked about my hip size, which I think may translate into a shopping excursion one of these days. Who knows haha. 

What a day. Full of company and honest conversation. 

Hiking Times -- Mt. Yongmun

This hike was a while back, but it remains fresh in my mind:

The commute to Mount Yongmun was nervous and long. Past the regular subway line, the rail is less predictable and less frequent. After three hours, I was prematurely exhausted and ready to turn around. But with friends waiting and the growing need to hike, I found my way. The moment I stepped off the bus, the last leg of the trip, it was all worth it. 

Leading up to the moutain and temples is a small village, is how I can best describe it. Restaurants that open up into the street, shops brimming with small gifts, and food carts selling typical Korean fried goodness and meat sticks greet the eye. It was so colorful and pleasing to alll my senses. Lanterns lined the path up to the main attraction: the temples and some 1,500 year old Gingko tree, the oldest and largest in Korea. 

The hike was challenging and thus, the dinner afterwards was that much more delicious. I had the staple Korean dish called bibimbap 비빔밥. Served in a bowl, rice, various vegetables, and a protein sit side-by-side and are topped with a poached egg. Mix-it yourself and bottomless chili paste later, pure happiness. 

Flowers arranged in the shape of the Gingko tree leaf

Whale Win

Successful whale project:

Cute whale pod

Lazy Sunday & New Downloads

Well, it's Sunday: slept in until 8:30am, read in bed until 11, cleaned the bathroom, grilled up a garlic-jam-grilled cheese sammy, simmered a mixture on the stove to drown the fruit flies (milk sugar, pepper, & dish soap), ironed candle wax out of a pair of jeans, did some laundry, hung said laundry, took a nap, and "looked" over lesson plans for the upcoming week. Yet alas, I never get as much done as I want. I always have such high hopes for the weekend -- but meh, the weekend is supposed to be chill, right?

Downloaded a couple of new songs -- big fan of Bastille and Justin Timberlake right now. Read this article on Buzzfeed about wear-to-work sweatshirts and I come home from Itaewon with four new "sweatshirts" I can wear to work. Pretty cute stuff and each only cost me 5,000 won (less than 5 dollars). I love Korean-made clothes. Cheap and made for my Asian frame. 

"Project Free TV" came up this weekend when talking to friends about the new "Scandal" season (Kerry Washington and Fitz love). My sister is a huge fan and I know that a lot of people use it but I hate what it stands for. And that name makes me cringe. The entitlement and lack of respect. I dunno, there's a lot of work that goes into every second of every TV show, movie, music video... into visual media. The number of people, too, behind every project is huge. I think it's mostly the name that bothers me. TV scheduling and revenue isn't part of my expertise; it's just a general feeling I have. That's why when I'm ready, I don't mind paying for a couple new songs on iTunes or paying for a movie ticket to watch a movie the way filmmakers imagined it.

My Students

"Where is your textbook?"

"My grandma burned it."

Little did I know, this was a legitimate excuse which honestly should not have surprised me. Old Korean women have strong personalities and see no need for English. Korean households are more often than American households multi-generational, or simply, the grandparents raise their grand kids. So, when a grandma sees a book filled with English, naturally she tears it up and burns it in the fire. That was one of the funnier discussions I've had with my co-teacher. I mean, of course she tore it up and burned it. It's absolutely hilarious because it's true. For shame, "My dog ate my homework." You're not funny and even if you were true, we all know you force fed that dog like a fois gras goose.

Teaching has been a challenge. For third through sixth grade, I teach out of a textbook and accompanying CD that gets projected onto the touch screen. I think I could do my job better if the school didn't use those books. When I was in between co-teachers, there was a day that I taught by myself and without the book CD because it had gone rogue. It was by far the best day of teaching. I used the board and taught the material. I hadn't realized how much I had already begun to rely on the book activities.

I'm 99% sure "No Zoo" is the only
English phrase this student knows
-- Great sense humor

Unfortunately, disregarding the book is not an option, and I do see how it is working -- the students know English. Their levels vary, but regardless they make the effort and are able to talk to me. Those are precious moments; before and after class, having a bunch of students crowd around my desk and ask me how old I am and what I like to eat and telling me their names. That's a win in my book and perhaps a win for the textbook. I've also always prided myself on being able to work magic within boundaries. However, it's hard. Teaching is hard. Teaching Korean kids is hard. Some days, I just wish someone would take me up and pull a, "You poor, poor girl." 

Hypothetical pity parties help shift my focus to the kids themselves. They are so great and have such big personalities; they are worth everything to me as a teacher. It is such a joy to see what they create and how they apply what they have learned. The first and second graders especially surprise me with their incredible minds, because I've turned into an adult and seem to have forgotten how quick and witty kids are. I'm so proud of them all and I love-love-love their work.

Relaxing Weekend in Seoul

Hot Americano so fine

This weekend turned out to be very nice. A few of us decided to stay overnight in Seoul at a hostel, and there was shopping, sushi, Issac Toast, slow-drip coffee, and a phenomenal french toast breakfast (second breakfast if we're getting technical). The hostel stay was superb. I've never stayed at a hostel before but this one - Backpackers Inside - was really something comfortable. Great atmosphere, cool staff (cool like I wanted to be friends with the guy), an amazingly soft bed, and an amazingly comfy comforter. It was perfect.

I think what I enjoyed most was taking it easy with other people. It's one thing to crash at my apartment by myself but therapeutic to do the same with friends. The hostel has this main room with a couch and other seating -- probably one of my favorite moments from the weekend was chilling in there for about an hour. Light guitar playing, talking about students and school, and I flipped through one of the guestbooks, which had messages and drawings from the hostel's worldly occupants. That was neat to look through.

Sunday morning, we grabbed some breakfast from the conveniently located (ten steps from the hostel) Issac Toast stand. I got a ham-cheese Issac Toast, which is basically a ham and cheese egg sandwich. Everything is processed - white bread, fake cheese, spam-ham - but mouthwatering good. About halfway through, I discovered corn had been mixed in with the egg. Keeping me on my toes, Korea.

Second breakfast happened because we had planned on eating at the french toast place (250° Celsius) the night before but it wasn't open when we had wanted (needed) to eat. We were chatting outside the doors when it opened for the day. Two of our group departed for the Rail Bike and three of us stayed behind, sipped on tea, and fangirled over the fancy china tea cups and good music selection. I split the french toast platter, which came with bananas, whipped cream, sausage, salad, and homemade yogurt. Delish.

Anne & Rebecca with fancy tea 

Haven't had good bread
for a while -- amazing

Korea World

The first questions:

1. How old are you?
2. Are you married?
3. Do you have a boyfriend?

I was prepared for these, but as a twentysomething already dealing mentally with the expectations of age, I really don't care for them. And these initial questions come so abruptly to an expat from America, right after, "What is your name?" Being asked by elementary-aged kids only adds to the awkwardness. What's it to you, ya cute little munchkins? But it's honestly no more comfortable when the president of the school or the other teachers ask me, so meh -- it's a personal thing.

I understand sizing a person up on a first meeting. It's natural, but in Korea, age and marriage status is really important. Superficially, I think the Koreans would like me better if I did have a boyfriend or a husband because it fits into their understandings and expectations of a young woman in her twenties. And I'm not offended nor do I wish the social system was different; my priorities are simply more well-rounded.

Priorities aside, I would gladly say, "Yes!" to having a boyfriend or husband if it were true because that's the answer that makes the most sense in the current culture. I am indeed a yes man in Korea because it comes in handy at school for haggling vacation time; plus, I'm learning and experiencing more new things. It puts me in good situations and in a better position as an expat because in general, the Koreans really like showing and teaching you things. They are proud of Korea and of being Korean and their knowledge of such runs deep.

There is an extra enthusiasm the more "Korean" one is, which I find interesting and a little endearing. One of my friends speaks Korean very well at an intermediate-advanced level. I've witnessed joyous conversations and "service" (or free) food on the discovery that she speaks Korean. She has what sounds like the best talks -- everybody loves her. I admit, I feel a twinge of jealousy. I wish I could interact with the Koreans like that.

On the flip side, I am Korean. I was born in Seoul, but I am also an American that doesn't know a lick of the language beyond the bare basics. It was hugely confusing for the teachers and students at my school when I first started. One the teachers kept saying over and over, "You have a Korean face, you have a Korean face." My adviser back in Wisconsin told me that the Koreans don't openly talk about adoption for personal reasons. Personal reasons being that they would care for and raise their children if they could, and when they know they can't -- it's very personal. It took a couple of days for everyone to understand that I was a new foreigner English teacher, not a new Korean English teacher.

Being Korean is "more Korean." There's no grand special treatment, but it counts towards the Korean pride of all things Korean. For sure, people assume I speak the language, which has made me feel a little guilty. It's just the way it is. Maybe I should've been more interested in learning about my heritage. Truth is, I've always thought it was cool I was born in a different country. But that wasn't part of my life. I am who I am. Pegging a person to know certain things and to be a certain way because of how they look or where they come from maybe proves logical most of the time. But it is not fact.

One night at the bar, this local guy thought it hilarious that I was learning some basic Korean phrases from a friend, who was white. Hilarious in sort of a demeaning way -- I have a hard time in situations like that because I can see why he thought it laughably ironic. It is kind of funny if one starts thinking of "what if." What if I had been raised in Korea; I'd speak Korean and it'd be a silly situation. But that's not how it is. So, come on, guy. My motto: let it go, because the less power to him. The less power to get know someone with an open mind.

Another small detail that's been bothering me: I've said "white people" more times than I have ever cared to. It's strange because it's been slipping out in sort of embarrassingly distasteful ways. I think, it has to do with my confusion on how to label myself. I've never really given my race much thought past the "check your ethnicity" box on surveys and forms, but here in Korea I don't look like a expat; I look like a Korean. Sometimes, I like that. I like disappearing in the crowd; other times, I don't like it, mostly because it requires more talking (explaining). The grass is always greener. Not being fully "white" or fully "Korean" can be befuddling, because, put simply, race does play a factor in everyday life in country as homogeneous as Korea. Ignoring or denying that would be inefficient and untrue. It is an ongoing effort to process everything and it's been more interesting than anything, navigating the fine lines. 

"Korea World" can be very assuming. A term coined by a friend, she works with high schoolers and she tells them, "You know, outside of "Korea World," things are different." Straight up, they know that of course, but being surrounded by people who look the same and have the same palette for food and speak the same language can in ways limit perspective. I've found myself taken aback at the things I do that surprise the teachers at school. I'm also a little bit shocked at how surprised they are when I don't understand something they do. At times, I wish there'd be a little more give. 

It is a different circumstance for both parties. One of my greatest motivations for wanting to teach in Korea for a year was to learn and see new things. However, for the teachers, this is their home - where they grew up and where their families live. There is a different mind-set and with that, a different level of conscious openess. When I see something that seems completely crazy, I swallow it with an understanding that I'm in a different country. Talking about it later with friends always helps decode the situation or at least not feel alone. 

Humor and laughter have been my saving grace on the hard days. Some shit is funny because it's funny. So many good laughs with new friends, my co-teacher, the other teachers at school, and especially my students. Just on Friday, the fifth grade class hamster went missing -- escaped from his cage (UGH, WHY). I think some of the boys sensed my abhorrence for that situation because they started coming up to me with their hands cupped saying, "Hamster, hamster," and then quickly opening them to reveal nothing. It got my heart beat up. Very funny, right? I was finally over that when the last boy came up and said, "Hamster find, hamster find," and no warning, shoved into my face, THE HAMSTER. I may have screamed and I may have tripped over my own feet. It was so funny. 
x

Teacher Abby

Finally took some pictures of my classroom!

My desk

Down the hallway

Makes me happy

The food in Korea is good. Like really good for my body. I'd say it took me a week or so to start craving kimchi simply because it fills a void in my stomach I never knew I had. Kimchi, like all the Korean food I've had, isn't scarfed, guzzled, or stuffed down. It might be shoved, slurped, and curled in seaweed but in excess? Never. One is a belchful full, but I've found that I stop when I am satisfied. I'm not tempted to eat more than I need to.

Attribute that to the absence of the salt and sugars found in meals in America and the addition of fresh vegtables (mushrooms, onions, raddishes, cabbage...), beans of lots of variety, rice, and fish. I'd say Korean food is about nourishment of the body, mind, and soul. 

Watching the teachers eat at school is my favorite show. They eat incredibly fast -- something I read about but an observation I happily share with my new co-teacher (she also thinks they eat quickly). One day, we were served chicken wings, like the ones at Quaker Steak & Lube. And you bet I waited to see how they would handle that situation; they used their chopsticks. They picked them up and so beautifully ate those wings. I wish I could paint a painting that could capture that moment of grace. So I followed suit and hey, didn't do so badly. It's in my blood after all. 

Lunch at school is one of my favorite activities to do in Korea. Such a routine and natural thing, but I really enjoy the surprise and hope for what is served. Sin Hyeon Gyeong, my new co-teacher, and I head down around noon after our last normal class of the day, and being teachers and all, float up to the front of the line. I grab my "teacher" metal lunch tray, spoon, and metal chopsticks and move along the line. First comes the kimchi and the spicy vegetable-sometimes-pineapple stop (the pineapple happened once!). Then comes the rice stop - white rice, rice with flecks of beans, fancy rice that's seasoned up. Next comes the soup stop - soup everyday and everyday a different soup. I'm starting to love and need my soup. Last comes what I like to call the "this makes me happy" stop. This is where you get the chicken wings. The "corn dog." The "sweet and sour chicken." The protein and the familiar. Everything is a little different in Korea, including milk, gum, and popcorn, but the glimmer of familiar is enough and it's so good.