tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47300535257443528142024-02-07T18:57:59.033+09:00Korean SensationTrials and tribulations roaming the Korean landscape teaching English as a Fulbright ETAChocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-11899514323809672362011-04-10T15:59:00.001+09:002011-04-10T15:59:24.242+09:00Veni, Vidi, ViciNo I am not pretending to be Julius Caesar, nor does Korea resemble the Roman empire in any way, but I feel nonetheless like I've gotten from this country exactly what I came for. No, I've not conquered Korea; I've conquered myself in Korea. This country was, is to some extent, for me an exciting country with lots of new foods to try, places to see and experiences to be had. Would I come here again if I had the chance? I don't know. This grant year came after 17 years as a student. It's been my chance to breath before I jump back into academics and start my real life. Maybe that's why I'm increasingly ambivalent about things these days-because none of it seems real, or at least pertinent, anymore. It's as if the real world is waiting for me back in America. And I don't think I'm alone on this point either, even if other ETAs haven't realized it yet. Regardless, I'll be taking much of this country back home with me. Note: If you see a good deal on a rice cooker, let me know.
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51620136@N02/5545090382" title="View 'Thailand-26' on Flickr.com"><img border="0" style="display:block; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;" height="333" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5257/5545090382_0a6a543609.jpg" alt="Thailand-26" width="500" title="Thailand-26"/></a>
Spring has finally come to Mokpo. The windows of the apartment are wide open. The wind if fresh, and it doesn't bite anymore. Best of all, the trees are starting to bloom. Never underestimate the power of nature to improve your mood, even your life. Granted, my host mom keeps warning of impending red doom from China. Not missiles or soldiers, as far as I know. Rather something between dust clouds and pollution; probably a mix of the two. Apparently this happens every spring, and everyone either heads indoors or dons those ubiquitous and ridiculous bird flu masks. I don't know quite what to think of it just yet because, well, I haven't seen any red dust-but I'll let you know as soon as I start coughing up crimson colored clouds. Can you imagine, though, if every spring sand storms built up over the Mexican desert and bombarded San Diego and Los Angeles. It doesn't seem like there's much you could do about it, but I feel like Americans would have words with Mexico nonetheless...that's just our style.
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51620136@N02/5598723349" title="View 'Bali Baby-17' on Flickr.com"><img border="0" style="display:block; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;" height="333" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5267/5598723349_e6c5ee9fb3.jpg" alt="Bali Baby-17" width="500" title="Bali Baby-17"/></a>
Highlights from JoonAng High School: I asked my 3rd year (Seniors) class what they would do if they had a million dollars; aside from cars, restaurants, and buying their own PC Bangs, one girl confidently told me she would have plastic surgery to buy a new face. Ouch. I'm pretty sure my host brother, the middle one, is gay (nothing to do with JoongAng). He doesn't know it yet, or maybe he does, but this is my professional opinion. If only the vast majority or Koreans didn't "hate" gay people...I guess they'll get over it eventually. One of my students wrote me a love letter, of sorts. She's bugged me a couple times to write her back, but I don't write notes, I'm not a fan of love letters, and the whole idea seems wildly inappropriate. Welcome to the broken heart club. Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-30534250854634643792011-04-05T20:35:00.002+09:002011-04-05T20:37:53.459+09:00Swimming LessonsOK, so this is my first blog post in the past 30 years. I have no regrets but it's good to be back. I've traveled the seven seas (or two of them), said hello to Southeast Asia and emerged from winter break well rested and with a newfound irritability towards small children. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51620136@N02/5386807409" title="View 'Rising Sun-31' on Flickr.com"><img height="292" border="0" style="float:center;" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5215/5386807409_a775a921e1.jpg" alt="Rising Sun-31" title="Rising Sun-31" width="500" /></a>I don't think I've grasped just yet how much I've changed since coming to Korea. And despite the warnings, I never realized how much of a "process" living abroad would be. Coming in, everything in Korea was bright and new and shiny--like a newborn baby grabbing every finger and glistening object he can get his hands on. Only in my case it was kimbap and soju. It's like your first time to the pool on your second birthday. You probably don't remember everything, but you splashed, you giggled, you pissed in the shallow end and probably swallowed a bit too. I kept this pace up for a <em>long</em> time.The weather was great and the water just the right temperature. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51620136@N02/5507766516" title="View 'Filipino Style' on Flickr.com"><img height="333" border="0" style="float:center;" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5292/5507766516_de26babcbd.jpg" alt="Filipino Style" title="Filipino Style" width="500" /></a>Embedded in this outlook, this newfound excitement, is seemingly infinite patience for silly foreigners, obnoxious children, and old ladies talking to you for five minutes knowing damn well you don't understand a word they're saying (or maybe they just don't care, its all the same to you anyway). Somewhere between 3 and 5 months off the boat and waste deep in the water, you veer downhill. Down a long, windy, and potentially lonely road to the deep end. Apathy sets in. Suddenly old ladies pushing you to get on the bus just doesn't have that same charm that it did before. Patience wanes, and eventually you start avoiding interaction all-together. Annoyance turns to aversion and lo and behold, even the site of small children triggers the fight or flight response. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51620136@N02/5386813033" title="View 'Rising Sun-42' on Flickr.com"><img height="350" border="0" style="float:center;" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5219/5386813033_5821fc3a05.jpg" alt="Rising Sun-42" title="Rising Sun-42" width="500" /></a> The notorious "hello, hello, hello....!!!" leaves you grasping for an invisible 9-iron. Thank god for those swimming lessons: orientation, classes, the gym, whatever you want to call it, because the water's choppy over there and no matter how far, how hard you stretch, the bottom remains elusive. Sure, you can psychoanalyze yourself, collect your thoughts and re-nogociate that impenetrable mindset. But you're still treading water in a foreign land, bobbing up and down grasping for air. In my case, vacation didn't come a moment too seen. A week in Hong Kong afforded a deep breath before another plunge back under. Christmas with friends in Seoul was wonderful. If only I could feel my toes because that time of year the water gets damn cold. Then, suddenly, the site of my parents--a welcome small piece of America--lets me grab the side of the pool before the current drags me under again. All the same with Japan, only this time I've got a taste for the fresh air. Even six days back under leaves my legs numb, seeing stars as I hold my breath looking up at the opaque surface. At least now I've found the bottom. So I leave, and I don't look back. Cebu, Boracay, Bangkok...finally time I've found the ladder and the rungs are plush and cushioned. <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51620136@N02/5544456555" title="View 'Thailand-19' on Flickr.com"><img height="333" border="0" style="float:center;" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5024/5544456555_fbac5ea126.jpg" alt="Thailand-19" title="Thailand-19" width="500" /></a>March 1. I stare back into the pool. There's the shallow end on one hand--but somehow it just doesn't have the same charm and fascination it did when I was a kid. And maybe I'll get self-conscious splashing around with rubber floaties on my arms. Nah, the water's getting nice this time of day. The sun's sinking down on the horizon so I shouldn't get too burnt. I think I'll just dip my feet in. I've got a beer in one hand and a book in the other. I can hang low, relax for three months. Soon I'll head back to work, next door. Only this time I get to be the life guard. Sure, I've got to climb a few steps to get up into the bird's nest. The say the training is brutal and the hours long. But I hear the view is <em>great</em>. And I can dive back into the water any time I want. At least now I know how to swim.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-55020702939620753262010-11-29T18:49:00.004+09:002010-11-29T20:01:43.693+09:00Musing on Korea IInstead of bore you with my inadequate attempts to control high school students, I've decided to start a series of mini posts on life in Korea, anecdotes on the plus and minuses, ups and downs, and unfiltered observations of a strange and foreign world. With respect to any current or future cultural comments, I mean no criticism, only observation.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFuJCggioLscpGgdGlTuGlFdbyuoa4CBZvs4NTWabKwUV5CcZ5k1awa2ojrzJ9cpH0bKRVDyS6H27Tt452HFHQsK9FDGgZy0S8o5BFmAQKqxBHD83j65DBXu4gVYf-CtQCPgS8CgDbz8/s1600/Seoul+At+Night-6.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFuJCggioLscpGgdGlTuGlFdbyuoa4CBZvs4NTWabKwUV5CcZ5k1awa2ojrzJ9cpH0bKRVDyS6H27Tt452HFHQsK9FDGgZy0S8o5BFmAQKqxBHD83j65DBXu4gVYf-CtQCPgS8CgDbz8/s320/Seoul+At+Night-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544925063489387394" /></a>- People stare at you. This is clearly not the case in Seoul, far more urban and worldly than the rest of Korea. But in Mokpo or any other provincial city, Koreans stare are you like you're going to eat their kids or cop a feel as soon as they look away. I can't ever tell if I've made their day or ruined it by invading their cultural homogeneity--but the sight of dirty blonde hair, blue eyes and light skin indubitably causes instant optical paralysis in about 25% of the population. Let me clarify though, I don't think this is rude on there part. I suppose the pilgrims looked a bit strange to the Wampanoags in 1621 (Thank you Thanksgiving lesson...). Though if there is one thing I've gained from this experience-it's that Americans should enjoy cultural pluralism. Be proud of the Thai restaurant down the street and (for most people) the feeling that we're all *the same.* Because here in Korea, I am not the same. And there's no Thai in Mokpo.<br /><br />- This one is less cultural and more familial: I am afraid to use the toilet in this apartment. No, it's clean-and the one attached to the parental suite is just fine-but the communal bathroom toilet in this apartment clogs before I even get the urge to use it. One time I looked at it funny and it overflowed. Pon Kil (Host Dad) pumps and snakes the thing at least once every day or so, but that just puts us back at square one. My host mom thinks the kids got one of their toys stuck up in their, I prefer to think think someone re-routed the pipe into a brick wall.<br /><br />- Living with small children--something I never did until now (Thank you Mom and Dad!)--they love to touch, lick, and sneeze on everything in the household. I'll just go ahead and point out that Korea is a very communal culture, meaning we all eat out of the same dishes, often share the same glasses, etc. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg12Qm3XpHL9dbkJb9plOLx7gLgJKB1T1b4y1iMKnl3itH8GGfti7EFyVTrrXe3Xzl0DIQvoJnhw0Xc31UQv8SGuXTmMGuKIlSwctu6KpHPP_oxPFEcJxcOn0GVBKVHuUnPUB9PDyGJZ9o/s1600/Seoul+At+Night-3.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg12Qm3XpHL9dbkJb9plOLx7gLgJKB1T1b4y1iMKnl3itH8GGfti7EFyVTrrXe3Xzl0DIQvoJnhw0Xc31UQv8SGuXTmMGuKIlSwctu6KpHPP_oxPFEcJxcOn0GVBKVHuUnPUB9PDyGJZ9o/s320/Seoul+At+Night-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544924731519624354" /></a>Hence shared germs are a way of life. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate these kids (they're far better than most to be honest), but they do drive me up the wall on a regular basis--and for the simple fact that they're kids (another post, another time). But when one kid gets sick, you can pretty much start the countdown until everyone else is: because coughing and hacking sans barrier is a way of life. When there's a hunk of meat on the table, I'll grab my chunk and hoard it like a starving hyena just before multifold chopsticks bear down into the rest. When there's fresh greens on the table, grab yourself one or two before little fingers go searching and discarding through every piece until they find the perfect one down on the bottom. What can I say when an 8 year old sticks his tongue in a communal dipping sauce? These observations are <span style="font-style:italic;">not</span> uniquely Korean, I understand. But they're still unique to me. Remember those Superbowl commercials where the guy at work is surrounded by a bunch of deranged monkeys? That's pretty how I feel at home--except they prefer to sing and dance, touch, and jump head first into the wall instead of pound on keyboards in the office.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-75094906344767521512010-11-25T18:59:00.003+09:002010-11-25T20:22:26.963+09:00I'm Still AliveSince Korea is making all the headlines back home, I figure it's worth a post to explain what life is actually like on this side of the pond. In a nutshell, nothing's changed. Like a fistful of irony, I didn't find out what was going on between North and South Korea until I logged into nytimes.com and, lo and behold, my little corner of the Earth is front and center in a cloud of smoke. To be honest, I can't actually say whether this because a) no one is talking about it over hear or b) no one felt like talking about it with me. I think it's a mix of the two.<br /><br />As far as I can tell, these skirmishes have been going on between the two sides intermittently for the past 50 years. I don't want to belittle the events, there <span style="font-style:italic;">were</span> death's on Yeonpyeong Island, but these flare ups have gone on for so long that Koreans are largely desensitized from any serious emotion. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaUnOlbCu0rsBWkICQaXOuSaOFUwLy31AN5Oy3qWW3us15hbI0XEplQTGwzgXm0mNFntsTES1V6BaBz4tB_u3cZaHAcr5tSFX1M7iPmv8uWuQ5DHGV7NYVM3TfwmJ4uhAe3qAlhAtWtw/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-9.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaUnOlbCu0rsBWkICQaXOuSaOFUwLy31AN5Oy3qWW3us15hbI0XEplQTGwzgXm0mNFntsTES1V6BaBz4tB_u3cZaHAcr5tSFX1M7iPmv8uWuQ5DHGV7NYVM3TfwmJ4uhAe3qAlhAtWtw/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543445365600560850" /></a>Yes, of course it's on the news--and it's probably a welcome respite from 24 hour kimchi jiggae documentaries, despite the inherently morose nature of the proceedings--but that doesn't mean the whole country comes to a halt and climbs under their chairs. On the rare occasion that I talk to Koreans about they're neighbor to the North, the feeling is more of embarrassment than serious anger or anxiety. It's like your crazy uncle who keeps embarrassing the family name in the news, maybe he killed somebody, what can you say?Is your life suddenly screwed forever? Except for many people in South Korea, they do have uncles up North. And even if they don't know them anymore, this is <span style="font-style:italic;">one</span> homogenous race that shares the same history and culture. Sure, some people are scared that war will break out--but eventually you stop being surprised and start expecting these events, even if you're scared to death that some day it'll hit close to home.<br /><br />Long story short, I think this is bigger news in America than it is in Korea. If only because American media is so much more sensationalist than their counterparts over here. So maybe I should just say "news" instead of news, but most Koreans here seem to take it in stride, absorb the details, and get one with their lives.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8G1u1Qtac8Em_rYjThaMEd24q0Z6PzqsFhyP1APl9Xp4DkrM4z-TT4ZCmoGtzsnRWaBtm0XI3fx3O_WPJ8XQc2-m2mWa1wntbkNcwHL19gFFS2h8O5rg9lctz9zntLN2YxLyLoOUBNv4/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-14.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8G1u1Qtac8Em_rYjThaMEd24q0Z6PzqsFhyP1APl9Xp4DkrM4z-TT4ZCmoGtzsnRWaBtm0XI3fx3O_WPJ8XQc2-m2mWa1wntbkNcwHL19gFFS2h8O5rg9lctz9zntLN2YxLyLoOUBNv4/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-14.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543446037489122274" /></a> I mean, someone's got to keep this Asian Tiger chugging. Let's not forget, though, that South Korea's war is America's war by default. So even if we're not "one people," I guess we definitely have in interest in what's going on over here. And to allay any fears, I would like to tell everyone that I, and everyone else outside of one unfortunate island, am OK. In the event that anything were to happen, being a part of the FB family puts me in first contact with the U.S. embassy, and we have a staff working full time to look out for our best interests--whether that means evacuating us on a moments notice or answering our mundane questions about life in Korea and how to figure our internet banking. Even if I shouldn't, I feel pretty safe over here. The odds say I'm far more likely to get murdered by a crazy-man back home than I am by a North Korean--I guess it's just the proximity that makes you think twice.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-84771068539842460922010-11-19T19:45:00.006+09:002010-11-19T20:34:15.679+09:00What's on the Mind of a Korean High Schooler?More specific: what's on the mind of a mildly motivated high schooler at Jungang High School. After a whole lot of cheap anecdotes and back handed complaints, I thought I'd finally give you a glimpse these hellions.<br /><br />I gave a G20 Summit lesson (thanks to Teacher Jim) to all my students this week. In case you missed it, the G20 was in Seoul on the 11-12th of November, so in <span style="font-style:italic;">some</span> form or another it was a "big deal" here in Korea. They had bilboards, advertisements, and commercials all about Korea and her *coming out party.* Still, I guess I'm not surprised how many students didn't have a clue about the event...at least my students anyway. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEislXXcwzqga4Sf9aDvPsam5WYsAHqinhnlSLwNPWczE8RO93KY45FhlNwaLwePE3NcEv27IW68_hWBbpEpOoNcEZG27a7U2rrUIyH9TMyArAJFlhPLZ4tTXyCRn7TqWddFvk-LBfCz7ak/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-5.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEislXXcwzqga4Sf9aDvPsam5WYsAHqinhnlSLwNPWczE8RO93KY45FhlNwaLwePE3NcEv27IW68_hWBbpEpOoNcEZG27a7U2rrUIyH9TMyArAJFlhPLZ4tTXyCRn7TqWddFvk-LBfCz7ak/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541221238329059186" /></a>After peppering in a few music videos and YouTube caricature sequences to hold their attention, I covered basic vocabulary like "leader" or "summit meeting" (I guess <span style="font-style:italic;">summit</span> really isn't that basic, but oh well) and then run through all the who, what, when, where, and why's of the event. Despite the lack of awareness on behalf of most of the kids, I was consistently shocked at how many country's flags they're familiar with. In the middle of the lesson I ran through all 20 (see, 20 countries, G20). They consistently knew Australia, Saudi Arabia, India, France, Italy, Argentina, Brazil, South Africa, Russia, etc. All in all, I think they did better than the average American student, as the only one that really tripped them up was Indonesia--and even that came up about half the time. Part of this might be due to soccer fandom, the world cup, since it was the boys who usually knew the hard ones (On the whole, the few girls in my classes come off a little brighter).<br /><br />Anyway, what I really wanted to mention was the grand finale, in which I had them write a "request" to one of the G20 presidents. After covering, or attempting to cover, the idea and vocabulary behind a request, I gave them about 20 minutes to think, scratch, and bang they're heads against the wall and write a request. This wasn't a free writing exercise however, that would hit a brick wall in my classroom. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33C5_V5qyncVACd4DIAp24nMlxg8IH1eYtijGS9vR_MmSQeIQ2JUfA_qyCHVe9kNBkXjlaLwaKEGtsbhdo9Yu1cL3zhPy-_bYy1sA67aSy7B13LQUlWfaU207ufDzKeGIMO1yihUMjj8/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-7.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33C5_V5qyncVACd4DIAp24nMlxg8IH1eYtijGS9vR_MmSQeIQ2JUfA_qyCHVe9kNBkXjlaLwaKEGtsbhdo9Yu1cL3zhPy-_bYy1sA67aSy7B13LQUlWfaU207ufDzKeGIMO1yihUMjj8/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541221494683264786" /></a>Up on the project were the words: "I would like to ask the president of _______ to please __________because _________," along with a list of 20 countries. Three blanks, easy enough, right? To put things in perspective, I would say only about 2/3 of the students wrote anything at all--despite poking and prodding by myself and co-teacher. And about half of those only wrote down what was on the projector. It goes without saying that those who finished the <span style="font-style:italic;">single</span> sentence were my better students--many of which were helped through by myself or Lee Teacher and consulted a dictionary of some sort. Anyway, here's what Korean students think about politics:<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- I want to ask the president of Saudi Arabia to please oil because are country need the nature gas<br />- I want to ask the president of U.S. to please gun because our country need the killing weapon<br />- I want to ask the president of United States to please Brazil because aze sick people (I think he meant AIDS here)<br />- I want to ask the president of Korea to please you die because I hate you (about 10 more just like this one)<br />- I want to ask the president of South Korea to please cow import because it's not good for our health</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXz8Ui-rEkd_kmawOVjl8CyMYKeI2b-geUcF4i6bXnbpv5WwY0xUYO5ckbGFAUXSAC8tiHgXkmsNdGkkIJbaAUwf7Y4rN8BgbKgoQfjZYr6uhVyg2CetJsRoZfRtL_OEH-h5uIRQdF9Hk/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-13.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXz8Ui-rEkd_kmawOVjl8CyMYKeI2b-geUcF4i6bXnbpv5WwY0xUYO5ckbGFAUXSAC8tiHgXkmsNdGkkIJbaAUwf7Y4rN8BgbKgoQfjZYr6uhVyg2CetJsRoZfRtL_OEH-h5uIRQdF9Hk/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-13.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541221703863910530" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- I want to ask the president of United States to please help we are country Korea because verey poor<br />- I want to ask the president of South Korea to please make some way to enter the univercity because entering the univercity is harod<br />- I want to ask the president of South Korea to please make a baseball times and ground because I like play baseball<br />- I want to ask the president of South Korea to please stop teaching English because English is very hard<br />- I want to ask the president of France to please give back to Korea because is our traditional book (???)<br />- I want to ask the president of Rusia to please war because bad man Japan<br />- I want to ask the president of China to please plan trees because a desert yellow sand<br />- I want to ask the president of Canada to please I'd like to see a musical because lovely<br />- South Korea stop talking your talking is very boring and stupid people<br />- I want to ask the president of Argentina to please help me because sexy girl<br />- I want to ask the president of to please population move because my country has a small population<br />- I want to ask the president of India to please stop movie musical because movie time is long<br />- I want to ask the president of Korea to please make student special rules because all student want freedom<br />- I want to ask the president of USA to please Korea president kill because he is bad and have no determination<br />- I want to ask the president of Saudi Arabia to please give oil because very very money</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguBynPc846XQAOFAEEsjKxOHsluF-RBbpDwRLRm_1v_SIg0TydwOtUkZs75mhSHdgezxsWa1bJInDzcB52jZ47O-wPYcOYzm843kIQzWokPmKPAx08NawwSpnJe8LELjZFPOhONn8ez9A/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-11.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguBynPc846XQAOFAEEsjKxOHsluF-RBbpDwRLRm_1v_SIg0TydwOtUkZs75mhSHdgezxsWa1bJInDzcB52jZ47O-wPYcOYzm843kIQzWokPmKPAx08NawwSpnJe8LELjZFPOhONn8ez9A/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541221994904183346" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- I want to ask the president of France to please make breads for me because I'm very hungry<br />- I want to ask the president of India to please make curry for me because I like curry and hungry<br />- I want to ask the president of Japan to please people because Japan people my style<br />- I want to ask the president of China to please not making china goods because I want my korea goods<br />- I want to ask the president of all country to please nothing because I'm happy<br />- I want to ask the president of Japan to please shot up because I Don't like Janpen<br />- I want to ask the president of Germany to please do not make beer because I don't drink (My least favorite)<br />- I want to ask the president of China to please do not fight the Japan because China e Japan's economy is to down<br />- I want to ask the president of China to please no dirty food because food eating body sick<br />- I want to ask the president of Japan to please more fast many X dult video because im very super like it<br />- I want to ask the president of Korea to please promote social welfare because there is no remedy for poverty<br />- I want to ask the president of Japan to please don't say that everything in dokdo are yours because those things are ours</span><br /><br />And the kicker:<br /><br />- I want to ask the president of South Korea to please don't making condom because I like natural<br /><br />*No further comment necessary...though that last one was a girl.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-77285908337172646612010-11-18T20:01:00.006+09:002010-11-18T21:04:50.550+09:00Fall is here.It took a little longer than expected, but autumn is in full swing in the southern reaches of Korea. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2BjzUsoExpy8Lk0aLn8TleXst2-Hbu8r3vSCBoslg0eSlf6Dt2dgJAvCY_e5ut6Fl5KhwijVRgVsW03c_qWQDd_0A0oq0-Brv1Wpzc7MgjUOBYdn16dD5V-N856bDbBMJ9H-Q2xAu-I/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2BjzUsoExpy8Lk0aLn8TleXst2-Hbu8r3vSCBoslg0eSlf6Dt2dgJAvCY_e5ut6Fl5KhwijVRgVsW03c_qWQDd_0A0oq0-Brv1Wpzc7MgjUOBYdn16dD5V-N856bDbBMJ9H-Q2xAu-I/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540856346389665122" /></a>The wintry winds are blowing in, the leaves are ablaze, and my nose refuses to stop running. Most of the time my internal V-8 keeps me chugging on cold mornings, but it's also nice to wake up to heated ondol floors--one of the many mysterious luxuries in Korea, perpetuated in modern buildings with or without historical context.<br /><br />As for heating though, I recently explored another of the strange and wonderful Korean saunas. On Saturday I headed up to Daejeon to give D. Chang a visit--though with the explicit intention of visiting a sutkam (숮감) sauna in the middle of bumble@#%$ nowhere outside of the city. I took the trip with his host family Saturday night, winding down some one-lane roads in the mysterious dark abyss. There was only one wiggly line left on the otherwise pitch black GPS, leading down to a strange little restaurant sauna in the rural hills. No hottub at this one, only hot air. You get dressed up in the typical light blue nut-house gard and proceed out into the cold starlit air, from which you can choose from a few different little huts covered in big thick fire blankets.<br /><br />The story behind all this is actually fairly interesting, so I might as well explain it. There's a calbi restaurant attached to the main building, and the meat is always cooked over a distinct pine species at just the right temperature. 숮감, literally charcoal, refers to the wood itself, which they burn slowly over the the coarse of a week or so. Every couple days they move the wood to a new room--and each of these little rooms heats a different sauna, consequently a unique temperature depending on the age of the wood. Well, I'll just start by saying that one of these rooms will burn you in places you didn't know existed. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIk2oWxRPEWN59r8w3t1K0-Ss41aZ19DUnLe2uPJw7zr09XB0Ckh84QGDkT_OhO1sks7F21nKWCnJc0HZNqLh2kUNtH1s2cJOYkyEasHWcSxIO9d6wqI0KS-oeqq4QsT4Xine4IduIf4w/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-4.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIk2oWxRPEWN59r8w3t1K0-Ss41aZ19DUnLe2uPJw7zr09XB0Ckh84QGDkT_OhO1sks7F21nKWCnJc0HZNqLh2kUNtH1s2cJOYkyEasHWcSxIO9d6wqI0KS-oeqq4QsT4Xine4IduIf4w/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540856657162494178" /></a> I'm sure the old, thick skinned ajummas (old ladies) take it in stride, but I was about to pass out after thirty seconds or so. The hot air alone left light burns on my arm, not to mention my putzing around with the blanket on my way in and out. Chang and I settled for the next room, plenty hot and not quite so excruciating. They idea with these sauna (and I guess, with any sauna) is to sweat.<br />And sweat I did. Rotating between the sultry sauna and nipply cold air for a couple hours I looked, and smelled, like a skanky wet dog. The kicker: you're not supposed to shower--it ruins the, well, I actually have no idea what it ruins, but rules are rules. When I <span style="font-style:italic;">did</span> shower, however, I felt about as fresh as the day I was born. My skin, to my delight, was nice and soft. To be honest though, I don't know if it was actually soft, or just the relative feeling post-disgusting. What difference does it make?<br /><br />I'll also spend a little time describing this past Tuesday's field trip--one because that's where the latest pictures came from and two, the hilarity of seeing grown men (teachers) going through a role reversal of sorts. I had Tuesday off this week for an open house for middle schoolers and their parents. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxSay7TwD5Q00-bmgULI8_zVJGG1ZLekF5xDd1SXsgoo1HAlL6wQDzEAVDarE5Gy71jlhjPL6_GUswVRbelOXiZbgz8sxvhlHRD6R8-VvU_4mO4v0-3vw5dfic2Vd6jW-xlAtZfQIcPM/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-8.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxSay7TwD5Q00-bmgULI8_zVJGG1ZLekF5xDd1SXsgoo1HAlL6wQDzEAVDarE5Gy71jlhjPL6_GUswVRbelOXiZbgz8sxvhlHRD6R8-VvU_4mO4v0-3vw5dfic2Vd6jW-xlAtZfQIcPM/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540856876878879570" /></a>This was only in the morning though, and during the afternoon I got to tag along on the latest social debacle commonly known as a teachers field trip. Most of the teachers at my school are getting a little long in the tooth, or at least firmly situated in the middle of their careers--but once they step out of the school doors and onto a tour bus, all hell breaks loose. Picture previously stern and learned instructors walking up and down the aisles of the bus throwing out beer and snacks and having a ball. The start and end of the trip including restaurant meals, never complete without the bottomless glass of soju, but the focus of the day was actually a trip to Haenam (literally, "country"), one of the many temple sanctuaries currently ablaze in the glory of autumn. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2b_lWgAq6mEJJgqAOOKbc-3sIJcqe0Dq0_e5m21zg2RJwbnqOAEPVXzC1-EdGTlWU_wDzpTA_ACC5d7Zd-_DKg-tO4-8NUz9ucXB3biEBcll7FudBpswgxpBXFkT2akp6Mvb7VrirRsA/s1600/Haenam+Field+Trip-12.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2b_lWgAq6mEJJgqAOOKbc-3sIJcqe0Dq0_e5m21zg2RJwbnqOAEPVXzC1-EdGTlWU_wDzpTA_ACC5d7Zd-_DKg-tO4-8NUz9ucXB3biEBcll7FudBpswgxpBXFkT2akp6Mvb7VrirRsA/s320/Haenam+Field+Trip-12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540857163389125986" /></a>For me this was another chance to whip out the camera and catch the fall colors, but I didn't forget my friends at the trailside restaurants--having a ball with no students, good food, and local sweet potato makkeoli. Perhaps the most interesting part: 3 months in and I'm still indisputably a guest in this country. As such, all the teachers make it their personal endeavor to break bread (errrr, rice?) and share in a bottle of booze. These best part though, they always get drunk a whole lot easier than me, so I get treated to food and wine and social entertainment without feeling it the next morning. Maybe the foreigner *shine* will wear off some day. In the mean time, I'll enjoy it while it lasts.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-45873895305700509662010-11-11T19:33:00.006+09:002010-11-11T20:42:59.822+09:00Seoul City BirthdayOne nice thing about living in a foreign country is you can always rationalize a protracted birthday. Let me explain. Korea's now 14 hours ahead of Ohio, which means my birthday starts 14 hours ahead over here. There's no reason <i>not</i> to celebrate it once it starts, and why quit at 12 pm here when my b-day is just getting started back home. I mean, that's <i>technically </i>when the sacred day is, since I was born under EST, but let's not obsess over the details. Just assume that my b-day lasts for 48 hours; only mine. <div><br /><br /></div><div>Regardless, this past weekend was a blast. Got to see Andrea on here first trip across the Yellow Sea and met another Athens native in the process. It's always satisfying talking about OU Halloween and students throwing other students out of windows when your half way across the world in a basement hookah bar in the 2nd* biggest city in the world.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PrxzM7Tdt7iXR4Tt3VUCI4rHK67C_BK4L4MSN2oFbUbnxRR_prShbySS9AdVppSFgmUPgBz4diAhgnvThLfBKXsfHCV-EC79x8J2AHWwen8tW6ixYiYuVFLASii0bBhE_Mvw3_KKBrw/s1600/Photo+Contest-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7PrxzM7Tdt7iXR4Tt3VUCI4rHK67C_BK4L4MSN2oFbUbnxRR_prShbySS9AdVppSFgmUPgBz4diAhgnvThLfBKXsfHCV-EC79x8J2AHWwen8tW6ixYiYuVFLASii0bBhE_Mvw3_KKBrw/s320/Photo+Contest-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538255512539914290" /></a> I must say though, Seoul does hookah well. The beer is a bit lacking, as you've heard me gripe, but they make up for it with solid shisha and sultry dancing groups. Anyway, the rest of the weekend did not disappoint either. Shout out to Jee for hooking us up with the pubs and chinese food. Last week I didn't know what the oldest Chinese restaurant in Korea was like, but I can sleep well now with my taste buds satisfied. Chinese food is a funny beast over here. The thing is I <i>know </i>it's different than the American version, I just don't know why. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfHDb1wMoNLD_LN2-3ruecG0LoRd_0TYHNtKMgU0T8m2ywbcA8Iz3fld8Twiex4DUKjEOPDr5VYac16lYM-oBrMOKj98DDo4jWnZbD7zW8_GMNGHNsMvofgltcA_1mRrjsRB2aLcImGU/s1600/Photo+Contest-1-4.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfHDb1wMoNLD_LN2-3ruecG0LoRd_0TYHNtKMgU0T8m2ywbcA8Iz3fld8Twiex4DUKjEOPDr5VYac16lYM-oBrMOKj98DDo4jWnZbD7zW8_GMNGHNsMvofgltcA_1mRrjsRB2aLcImGU/s320/Photo+Contest-1-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538255966321054994" /></a><br />Less sugar, sauces aren't as heavy I guess. I guess I just don't feel like a puddle of grease when I'm done eating. In other news though, I was walking around Hongdae on my way to a club and low and behold there's a massive black man strolling down alley with a throng of Koreans and rubbernecking and snapping pictures. , I don't mean large, or heavy, or tall--maybe gargantuan is a bit closer. Well, this 6' 5" behemoth turns out to be MMA heavyweight Bob Sapp doing who-the-hell-knows-what over here in Korea. I'm not one for celebrities and all the hubbub, but I do respect a physical spectacle now and again--so I took my picture and rambled off a happier man. </div><div><br /><br /></div><div>On one of the more educational moments over the weekend I took a tour around Yonsei University in Seoul--one of the "prestigious" three in Korea and apparently the prettiest. I might actually make a hobby out of college tours--I guess I'm somehow driven to college architecture and scenery; <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DRO1vfoOT7kguZ9Xze_qQlFei3D0n6HZ-LBu-IQAhjwlqMvBQ4HszD8tx5PrRPbFhaK_8UPIcCtswWwqpLrHw2j6kCVr0zseXyJSLnzMooefrkhuEOEVR2GBH-TVvgK2dhqoB3ZfPQw/s1600/Photo+Contest-1-3.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DRO1vfoOT7kguZ9Xze_qQlFei3D0n6HZ-LBu-IQAhjwlqMvBQ4HszD8tx5PrRPbFhaK_8UPIcCtswWwqpLrHw2j6kCVr0zseXyJSLnzMooefrkhuEOEVR2GBH-TVvgK2dhqoB3ZfPQw/s320/Photo+Contest-1-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538255160169723602" /></a> It doesn't hurt that I went to the prettiest* college in American (thanks Forbes). I mean, they put gobs of money into these places, so I guess the pseudo-advertising does its jobs. I didn't hurt that Seoul was right in the thick of Fall color over the weekend. The reds and yellows were striking. If I could cryogenically freeze myself, I would plan to wake up once a year for about doing weeks this time of year. Between the crisp northern breeze, the sharp blue skies and the blazing foliage--I could be a happy man just sitting back and taking it all in. </div><div><br /><br /></div><div>You wouldn't know it in Mokpo, but apparently the G20 Summit has got Seoul bumpin' right now. Just as I was leaving, the city was ramping up with concerts and festivals and anything you can imagine to make Korea look like another "city of the future" and ready to play with the big dogs.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNl4xyAMVn7dS72TSiFP8Wyvnb1uLhSGkLvluokb3mKHT57hWE5zSAHFdCmUfBeCvEA_1u96_purhu154d1F1cMRWdXXVGvEl_IAJ6SIBsDAPKNC26ieds1SrZ-sCAaZgW-zSQGY8rLU/s1600/Photo+Contest-1-2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNl4xyAMVn7dS72TSiFP8Wyvnb1uLhSGkLvluokb3mKHT57hWE5zSAHFdCmUfBeCvEA_1u96_purhu154d1F1cMRWdXXVGvEl_IAJ6SIBsDAPKNC26ieds1SrZ-sCAaZgW-zSQGY8rLU/s320/Photo+Contest-1-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538255005049729522" /></a> I guess riots are a big problem though, as with any G20, G8, or G6 1/2 Summit. I found out first hand when I was interrogated in the subway for five minutes--questioned about everything down to my skivvies. "Please show me your back Sir. No! Don't open your bag." All I have a chance to say is "what do you want me to do?" As I get: "what's in the bag? What are you doing here." Ironically, they threw so many questions at me that I didn't actually have time to answer a single one of them. I guess they got their satisfaction, and I found out what it's like to be racially profiled. Well, I'm not complaining, just stating. Keep in mind Korea is something like 1.5% foreign, a fraction of that white--so I can't really blame them when I stand out like an Asian at a Nascar race. </div><div><br />Well, that's enough for now, in a couple days I'm headed to Daejeon to get my spa on. Apparently the place is famous for some sort of pine needle rejuvenation. I mean, who doesn't like a solid coniferous exfoliation now and again?</div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-40453991609615678162010-11-02T19:53:00.006+09:002010-11-02T20:39:40.435+09:00Report from the Other SideI don't know If I mentioned it earlier, but my co-teacher, my lifeline, my lone English-speaking savior at school got married this past month. That's wonderful of course, except that she married a man in Daegu (like 3-4 hours away...then again...everything is 3-4 hours away in Korea). Long story short, she put in her two week--or the Korean equivalent--and now I've got myself an new co-teacher. I will mis Cho Seonsangnim. She was young, small and soft spoken, but she didn't put up with shit in the classroom. My new co-teacher is the complete opposite...except that she's also young and soft spoken.<br /><br />The new girl, Li Hyo Chan, is fresh out of college. Or, at least, she graduated this year--the same time as myself. She's been spending her off time studying for the national teacher exam which, so she says, she failed. Thus she applies for the job at good ol' Jungang High School (that actually doesn't say anything so bad about our school, just that we're a private institution, and teachers who either fail or don't take the national exam work for private schools. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7c0eASE_MhIKSEyeH_pSIWdXzS3-s3QjYZ_Nz6s1IxDX3U4r_lBB4iBjo6ZNSLwbngcZJBK9XTLDNHWRB2tS07iDT0XxFzuYzGWG1Cg5VfZxfBqUxdJidbPn3YrGUTkr4GDPpvwinRWM/s1600/Photo+Contest-1-5.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7c0eASE_MhIKSEyeH_pSIWdXzS3-s3QjYZ_Nz6s1IxDX3U4r_lBB4iBjo6ZNSLwbngcZJBK9XTLDNHWRB2tS07iDT0XxFzuYzGWG1Cg5VfZxfBqUxdJidbPn3YrGUTkr4GDPpvwinRWM/s320/Photo+Contest-1-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534915462738899426" /></a> Just the facts). Anyway, this is her first job. EVER. As an aside, Korean kids--at least ones even moderately focused on education--never have jobs growing up. No bagging groceries. No bailing hay. No begging for spare change on the side of the street. Anyone slightly interested in college spends 18 hours a day in school or studying on their own. With that said, this new co-teacher of mine was a little bit nervous when she came in to visit on Friday. I first sitting at the desk next to me, shaking, confused and on the verge of tears--her first words, following my "Hello, I'm Ben," were: "I have no idea what I am suppose do to!!!" Keep in mind she didn't even have to teach that day, just visit, or so I'm told. In a nutshell, my response was: "I don't know what you're suppose to do, either...but if you need any help let me know!"<br /><br />Well, she's actually a very nice young lady--albeit a little green on the underside. Imagine how I felt on my first day though...and I didn't/don't even speak Korean. Like it or not, I'm sure she'll quickly conform to the realities of teaching at our school. With that said, her first look was a bit of a shocker. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLPeNDj6FRXmpiKGH7AvMqTzJueuTu3w_wVszpf2n3nwyLpIjd5I27WJ4pc8xKr7uIZ36zqvr8nFZOgxDXLdFo2v4dUOXIi0vNVQ2nAzrXRTemKEeSTC-29Pex93Mn5TBvPq1HDdRdkEU/s1600/Photo+Contest-1-2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLPeNDj6FRXmpiKGH7AvMqTzJueuTu3w_wVszpf2n3nwyLpIjd5I27WJ4pc8xKr7uIZ36zqvr8nFZOgxDXLdFo2v4dUOXIi0vNVQ2nAzrXRTemKEeSTC-29Pex93Mn5TBvPq1HDdRdkEU/s320/Photo+Contest-1-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534914088066722002" /></a> The same day she came in, I probably had both my best class and my worst classes of the year. Of course she sat in on the worst class-kids hitting, throwing, biting....just generally being adolescent idiots with built up sexual repression. The new teacher didn't say much, except "this is NOTHING like my high school, when I asked her about her thoughts. As of the first few days in class, I'm pretty much on my own. Cho Teacher (old teacher) could usually--temporarily--straighten the kids out with a good AYAAA!!! every now and then, while Li Teacher prefers a nice pat on the back and a thoughtful smile. We'll see how far that gets her.<br /><br />I did have a good time last Friday, heading out with Cho Teacher and a few others from school for a goodbye dinner of sorts. Any Korean dinner/celebration is not complete without soju and beer, and this one did not disappoint. It's always nice to hear some of the teachers true feelings, unmasked by plentiful liquid social lubrication. I was fed "Korean style" by one of the Korean teachers...for which I reciprocated in feeding him (literally, putting a wrap of random things in his mouth) "American style." I think the most memorable part of the evening, though, was the food (shocker, eh?). For the first "session" we were at a Hanu Restaurants (literally, "Korean Cow"). <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWYRdrPotouhG8s1296UfDQ0Ytffz-Vtc5sVU1J0U9sFr_ZnCTfbk3sqIl9qOWllNwsao_93nzpliFBu40QtTyoeezp9VSg_-hdkyzlfSVbWFrvmp-TQPPsJ0Y83YQtoPqn0UFt3otEI/s1600/Photo+Contest-1-3.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWYRdrPotouhG8s1296UfDQ0Ytffz-Vtc5sVU1J0U9sFr_ZnCTfbk3sqIl9qOWllNwsao_93nzpliFBu40QtTyoeezp9VSg_-hdkyzlfSVbWFrvmp-TQPPsJ0Y83YQtoPqn0UFt3otEI/s320/Photo+Contest-1-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534914491183187730" /></a>Any beef is expensive in Korea, and domestic beef--the premo--is at the top of the pyramid. More than just the meat though, was how it was served. Half of it was sitting out raw on slabs of wood. It's like eating sashmi in a sushi restaurant, only red and bloody--and delicious. I'm still shocked at how edible raw beef is. I know, I know, maybe not such a good idea with parasites and bacteria and mad cow disease--but Hanu Restaurants are tip top and this beef meets the highest standards. This also helps explain why Koreans were so freaked out by a (imported beef) mad cow disease scare a few years back. Better yet though, I also tried cow stomach. The taste is fine. It tastes like, well, beef. The texture, however, is more like curdled rubber--so I'm not so sure where I stand on that one. To top it off I ate soup with chunks of coagulated cow blood (think finger sized chunks, the real deal). This tasted like...I honestly have no idea. But it wasn't bad, only a bit rubbery like everything else that night.<br /><br />Anyway, enough of the restaurant review. This is plenty for now; I'll leave you with images of raw stomach and chunky blood. Cheers.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-59162639997154368982010-10-25T18:46:00.004+09:002010-10-25T20:07:19.811+09:00Ring of FuryI did it. I made it to the first ever South Korean International Grand Prix. Okay, I make that sound far more special than it actually is, but it was a great time to a) watch Formula 1 for the first time and b) only have to travel 10 minutes in traffic from my apartment. The day before the big event I didn't think I was going to be able to go, since I didn't feel like shelling out several hundred for tickets--and some shifty Facebook free ticket scheme (not surprisingly) fell through for 90% of the people involved. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBOgZ_rLJtx60VQ3_zLaNINE55FgaIVDHNZtIY2sE2oxwlh8qeF9MPN0nqx20Nej8Efe3QT_vwU-LzrCPGgtJ95uLmR3PVOFeuYQUi-YtGg9LxLCUwIQaQmhcmK0xwWW0okSDl-GvucY/s1600/Kimbap-1-2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBOgZ_rLJtx60VQ3_zLaNINE55FgaIVDHNZtIY2sE2oxwlh8qeF9MPN0nqx20Nej8Efe3QT_vwU-LzrCPGgtJ95uLmR3PVOFeuYQUi-YtGg9LxLCUwIQaQmhcmK0xwWW0okSDl-GvucY/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531937076064975186" /></a>On the Facebook note, I get an email three weeks ago (I'm in a Mokpo Facebook group) purporting free tickets for all the foreigners in the area. Granted I would be silly to have faith in something like this, but it turns out I couldn't get the tickets anyway because they required a foreigner ID number at the gates: this is the number that every teacher in Korea has except FBers. You have to have it to do internet banking; to use the internet at Starbucks, hence its probably the only downside of my "diplomatic" visa versus whatever everyone else gets. I guess the U.S. ambassador can't use the internet at Starbucks; that makes me feel a little bit better. Well in the end, they only gave out 1/10 of the tickets they promised, so I would have likely been stranded anyway. <br /><br />Not to worry though, the week of the race my host Dad got 4 tickets in the mail from some friend and decided I could use a couple of them for the day. Here's to you Pong Kil. Anyway, come race weekend Mokpo was swamped. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBgEB6h3aw-e-VlrIaa5LYnrIaeLUTcq3TbpYhll85jxnYJAuurif5GcsXzFQoXepr6-71o6AEcSICEMwvu2SdNmdDBlX5rQabNxO2X9eOLHVYwwqzOSbCIpqjitB_dpBxWWWf9uI71c/s1600/Heinsa-1-2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 182px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBgEB6h3aw-e-VlrIaa5LYnrIaeLUTcq3TbpYhll85jxnYJAuurif5GcsXzFQoXepr6-71o6AEcSICEMwvu2SdNmdDBlX5rQabNxO2X9eOLHVYwwqzOSbCIpqjitB_dpBxWWWf9uI71c/s320/Heinsa-1-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531938517875570610" /></a>The track is brand new--only cleared for racing a week ago--so everything, including traffic management, was thrown together like an eskimo luau. No worries though, I got there despite meeting the first dishonest cabbie since coming to Korea. Apparently he thought every foreigner at the race knew nothing of Korea, so he 'forgot' to turn on the meter and tried to charge us thirty for the ride. I said hell no, gave him twenty for the trouble and left...he didn't fight and only gave me this pouty look so I felt satisfied with the haggling. <br /><br />Alright, to the race. Racing = awesome, everything else = *insert your favorite sad korean emoticon. That didn't spoil the fun though, even if they ran out of food before I got there. That's actually another first, Korea NEVER runs out of food; you never go home hungry--except at Formula 1. Apparently we (Jing and I) had great seats. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttl65iSUb4KnXUuHRBwYSbrupTqCRJSjMFeKAvL0xYR57FKqp5DfflAjGzyUI3dgtwoikG2DfyResQc866Ocp2N4FdF8mvc1SF8waY7D0r7TCHcJUhE9ylDO2ZetDc1duTpFZfyPdAz4/s1600/Kimbap-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttl65iSUb4KnXUuHRBwYSbrupTqCRJSjMFeKAvL0xYR57FKqp5DfflAjGzyUI3dgtwoikG2DfyResQc866Ocp2N4FdF8mvc1SF8waY7D0r7TCHcJUhE9ylDO2ZetDc1duTpFZfyPdAz4/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531937335947499506" /></a> I would agree; since it was at a switchback and you could actually see the cars for a minute before the blast by at 220 mph. I got to play around with some action shots on the DSLR, always a good time, and proceed to go a little more deaf every time another car flew by. These cars are <span style="font-style:italic;">beasts</span>. Machined and driven to perfection by the best of the best, it's always fun to see the pinnacle of any sporting genre. To be perfectly honest I don't know all that much about the sport; I know a handful of racers and the general history/purpose, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the gleaming mechanical perfection as the cars fly in, brake on a dime, and speed off before you realize you dropped a doozie in your pants. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BN9jae2J7dLQc3jpVh_vezQaHzuaNc_eAk7nHV5CqveeIWoDD3vhyg0ATfI9FpXHoLxL-j7ot6gdRQwb3uEz9vlxJzFt74wo_OPRhrz5mkfHqAM4uZWwMRRpGp9Bp7QqoD3mcoEepbI/s1600/Kimbap-1-3.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BN9jae2J7dLQc3jpVh_vezQaHzuaNc_eAk7nHV5CqveeIWoDD3vhyg0ATfI9FpXHoLxL-j7ot6gdRQwb3uEz9vlxJzFt74wo_OPRhrz5mkfHqAM4uZWwMRRpGp9Bp7QqoD3mcoEepbI/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531937332503563282" /></a>The thing about sitting at one place in any racetrack (probably the same for any racing event) is that you get to the see the same thing, over, and over, and over again. With that said, I didn't fully realize this until long after thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. The flip side is that I never would have paid W660,000 (around $600) to sit in the same place and watch the same thing over and over again. I guess you have to pay to play--but since I didn't pay I have no complaints and only the warmest feelings for Korean Formula 1, even if they ran out of food.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-68129401232253235732010-10-24T15:22:00.002+09:002010-10-24T15:53:53.008+09:00Educational DancingI got a couple extra days off this week for the 'School Festival.' At least that's the direct translation of the eventt; I might call it something more like 'High Schoolers doing K-pop dances on stage in front of old people.' In all seriousness though, it was a great time since I didn't have to teach any classes, just sit around, eat food and practice my Korean in the Gyomushil. Though I was a bit surprised to see risque dancing out of high school girls--all in front of adults and various notable personages that apparently have some connection to the school. And by risque I mean 6 girls lined up with matching 1-inch shorts doing body pumps and aerial maneuvers that banish the likes of Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey to Sunday School sock hops. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj23aGOc58s2M0gTDvNagu3mcoha4G_bnvUbpgV7nqRTbi0i7RQQVt593WqybOTC7CV8Ubco9d2wwOZm2iPwmVtgdto7cloTdhJnClbLRVP0biWt81j3AbTpRguiIVDgmUEC3cmjeYYb34/s1600/Kimbap-1-8.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj23aGOc58s2M0gTDvNagu3mcoha4G_bnvUbpgV7nqRTbi0i7RQQVt593WqybOTC7CV8Ubco9d2wwOZm2iPwmVtgdto7cloTdhJnClbLRVP0biWt81j3AbTpRguiIVDgmUEC3cmjeYYb34/s320/Kimbap-1-8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531502052227809122" /></a> Okay, I might exaggerate a little bit, but some of this just seemed out of place at a daytime high school event--all the more so because it was a demonstration of the 'caliber' of Jungang High School students in front of the said visitors. To top it all off they had an array of treats and students serving food and teas throughout the day. It's always kind of funny when they get all dressed up in the traditional Hanbok to serve you tea and Ddok, and then proceed to spill it everywhere when they're attempting to pour for the first time. I guess I have high standards for pouring though, since I worked in a chemistry lab for 3 years. To top it all off, they were serving Makkoli for W2,000 a pop ($2, standard price) out in front of the auditorium. Not only were teachers sitting around drinking on school property, but all the imbibing was going on during school hours while the kids danced and strutted around on stage. I mean, I'm not really surprised at something like this anymore, but it is enlightening--again and again--to see how different things are between two societies. <br /><br />Sitting here now on a rainy Sunday afternoon watching Formula 1 on TV...the same Formula 1 that I went to go watch yesterday. I'll give you an update on all that here in the next couple days, I just though I'd mention how equally odd and amusing it is to watch something on TV that you can hear from the window.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-12986633131160667582010-10-18T18:07:00.003+09:002010-10-18T18:45:12.702+09:00The Darker SideIt's been about a week so I guess it's time I update this thing. As for the darker side, I finally managed to get sick on this side of the Earth...aside from the random delights that come with trying new foods and welcoming new bacteria. Fortunately I think it's going to be a quick one. If first came in on Saturday and I'm feeling a lot better as of Monday evening. I don't think I've ever slept quite that much in one day though--let me give a shout out to downloaded episodes of Mad Men for filling in the spare time (for those of you who haven't seen this show, watch it. Now. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4dNSxrW3ZdZ2o0mokPlH2atXbZxmzq73d-g0ipL6ean8vF7A-_HereKrNuTYVjp_Ztc3GDOiJxap84ekqipIfiBNttj7SNLHdeQKLfl1moRZQ_CLrp3uOdJpZOx6hwVxS9l_YRO2YACE/s1600/Kimbap-1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4dNSxrW3ZdZ2o0mokPlH2atXbZxmzq73d-g0ipL6ean8vF7A-_HereKrNuTYVjp_Ztc3GDOiJxap84ekqipIfiBNttj7SNLHdeQKLfl1moRZQ_CLrp3uOdJpZOx6hwVxS9l_YRO2YACE/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529318344946441554" /></a> AMC isn't paying me to say this, but I'm open for offers if the word gets out). Anyway, I guess the random Korean medications I took couldn't have hurt. I mean, I have no idea what some of the stuff was (a bit ashamed since I'm going to medical school next year) but I was too lazy to figure out the translations and just assumed that my host mother wasn't trying to kill me...the verdict on that one comes back if I make it to the next blog post. The sickness couldn't have come at a better time though: I had Friday off for some sort of "testing," I only had to work half a day today and there's a school "festival" tomorrow--for which I <span style="font-style:italic;">should</span> attend--followed by another round of "testing" on Wednesday that I definitely don't have to show up for. Sorry for all the quotation marks, but I use them as much for my own amusement at this point. It's just with testing and festivals and field trips and school 'let's be lazy days,' I'm pretty sure I've ended up with more days off than I actually work--I mean, I'm not complaining or anything, it's just...amusing. As for the festival, I'll try to lug the camera around tomorrow to capture the glory of Korean flag girls and stale dokboggi, even if ol' Jungang High School can't match the opulence of Keith's Jeju boys (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpTJISyKGrA&p=FF23A0D80A471DD4&playnext=1&index=9). I expect it will be somewhere on par with the North Korean Mass games (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBWOEdy_-qM). Okay, maybe not. But a boy can dream. <br /><br />Switching my train of though here...This upcoming weekend is the first Korean Formula one race--situated right here in Mokpo. Okay, not actually Mokpo, but it's like ten minutes away. Supposedly I'm getting free tickets because I'm white, or not Korean, either way you want to look at it. I kind of doubt I'll get the tickets to be honest, but you really never know around here. I can't say being...Western...gets you that many perks, but if definitely puts you in interesting situations. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAeUSI3LHaCfFxHn8FFEZ0MnQr2pw6vcFSQ-OttdPmXWTJE-MB4mA0Pvnlsl_Az0lo4d0hYqVtwmps4cSYJ3kUMpgqPBRtgYGQVyB3Z_VFdbio2aGeM0uLD-Ew0Oth_iK8Cr_cBU_AkQA/s1600/Kimbap-1-2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAeUSI3LHaCfFxHn8FFEZ0MnQr2pw6vcFSQ-OttdPmXWTJE-MB4mA0Pvnlsl_Az0lo4d0hYqVtwmps4cSYJ3kUMpgqPBRtgYGQVyB3Z_VFdbio2aGeM0uLD-Ew0Oth_iK8Cr_cBU_AkQA/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529318350009849362" /></a> Like walking around this "Health Expo" on Saturday afternoon with my host mom and sister: random Korean women handing me bags of kimchi and taking my picture for who-the-hell-knows what publication. I hope that doesn't come back to haunt me. Most of all though, I can't walk ten feet outside the apartment with random kids saying hello to me. I mean, it <span style="font-style:italic;">sounds</span> innocent enough, but with the snide little smile on their faces and the lack of any interest in engaging in conversation (that, and you've already heard it 3,459 times the previous week) it starts to seem less innocent. Don't get me wrong, I don't get angry or anything. I just stop thinking, "Oh, what a nice kid" and start wondering when the little #$%* can think of something more creative. I'm sure any other ETA reading this knows exactly what I'm talking about, so if you have any suggestions for a good comeback I'm all ears.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-5966501575738159682010-10-12T18:57:00.003+09:002010-10-12T20:29:24.625+09:00Taming the BeastBy beast I actually mean they mischievous high school students that I spend most of my week around, and I <span style="font-style:italic;">might</span> have just found a way to actually control these little hooligans. For the first 6 weeks I did't use any technology in the classroom save for my Ipad on a couple occasions. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8dG9znVm_kEuxkOiZ87syqCIsEffQjtq4lLBBCArWD5e5vh7Ep32s7I0-ImRoJUx-jY_44lnNGsdq269llI3xSEGmIFoeOiDaX8Cu0RLjX-B_J5TRc3CaZd2iKFSZClngBsgGJDgDLo/s1600/Kimbap-1-4.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8dG9znVm_kEuxkOiZ87syqCIsEffQjtq4lLBBCArWD5e5vh7Ep32s7I0-ImRoJUx-jY_44lnNGsdq269llI3xSEGmIFoeOiDaX8Cu0RLjX-B_J5TRc3CaZd2iKFSZClngBsgGJDgDLo/s320/Kimbap-1-4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527119187558770434" /></a> Now that I have a workable project and a computer with powerpoint, I feel like I actually have something to leverage the bawdy minds of high schoolers. The past couple days I gave a lesson on American food--showing them all sorts of horrendously delicious pictures of hamburgers, steak, chicken, junk food and any other edible tranquilizer I could get my hands on. Besides giving them something that they *might* find interesting, this took the focus me for once...or at least off of listening to me. They're pretty much incapable of understanding complete sentences, let alone forming one on their own, so I think I might have finally hit their level: putting up a big picture of fried bacon on the screen and shouting "bacon" and "delicious" three or four times. Content, of course, cannot be overstated; So I'll have to keep thinking up either delicious or scandalous powerpoint topics as the year goes on. On one hand this actually takes takes a little time to put together. But it also doubles as Korean language class on my end--since I end up learning the corresponding Korean vocabulary after teaching the same class 6 times. <br /><br />This past weekend was also something of an *event* on the FB agenda, so I guess I better go ahead and mention it. We had the FB 60th anniversary Gala in Seoul at the Silla Hotel. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvf42WaD_ubFR4uSlkqy583aspEfnmhiYNqllKYEU6TAYov5uDfiCWlLdqE4T_sIj0sl_foDk29NWgqB4tj41mDBaLeD1WCIqzlTlQAitpkdXmeVP0IgthUULrzN9inBxM_M5mqw_FQPQ/s1600/Kimbap-1-3.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvf42WaD_ubFR4uSlkqy583aspEfnmhiYNqllKYEU6TAYov5uDfiCWlLdqE4T_sIj0sl_foDk29NWgqB4tj41mDBaLeD1WCIqzlTlQAitpkdXmeVP0IgthUULrzN9inBxM_M5mqw_FQPQ/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527096831704051682" /></a> For those of you who don't know anything about the Silla Hotel--and if you're not from Korea then to be honest, you shouldn't--it's pretty much <span style="font-style:italic;">The</span> Hotel. When you're Korean language textbook references it in practice sentences, it must be important...to Koreans citizens at least. Anyway, the whole ordeal was pretty nice, even if I wasn't blown away by the hotel itself. I mean, the place is pretty swank; I have no complaints. But I'm still not going to pay $13 for a beer at the bar when it comes in same bottle as one at the 7-Eleven. Well, once the actual event got going we were bombarded congratulatory readings (by "we" I mean the 500 people in attendance, not just the ETAs but past FBers and affiliates) and speeches about the merits of foreign experience and the history of FB. The food <span style="font-style:italic;">was</span> delicious, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMTJr90JYijom2A8UUgvN0k_MRC-4hU8Gd3joHM5n_oKJO189XY4HK7LthnKsOJzmG-LT1FqMsaF_5NKRQAtJWrxhxKPwLylHmScdpmU6grSpg8XIK7ajvN4v5YoymMpIXErkIM_9dxs/s1600/Kimbap-1-2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMTJr90JYijom2A8UUgvN0k_MRC-4hU8Gd3joHM5n_oKJO189XY4HK7LthnKsOJzmG-LT1FqMsaF_5NKRQAtJWrxhxKPwLylHmScdpmU6grSpg8XIK7ajvN4v5YoymMpIXErkIM_9dxs/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527096818963732994" /></a> multiple courses of scallops, some white fish, and tenderloin...all the more succulent when paired with the endless glass of wine that came with the ordeal. Well, not to be outdone by any of the speakers, the mass of FBers and myself were coerced into singing a song (for which we practice 35,243,098 hours during the convention): a precious little tune (see: sarcasm) only made palatable by the random drunk white guy in the middle of the room--in a sea of Korean bureaucrats and school administrators--fist pumping and screaming "YES! That was AWESOME!" at the end of the song. I don't think Mrs. Shim and the organizers planned for that one, but <span style="font-style:italic;">I</span> was appreciative. And if that didn't make the even worthwhile, he gave me a high five in the bathroom immediately following the performance: "Dude, THANK YOU, you guys are AWESOME!" ***Here's to you random drunk white guy.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-16987164266503911102010-10-08T19:44:00.006+09:002010-10-08T20:28:35.954+09:00Jumping in PuddlesNo, I haven't actually been jumping in puddles lately; I just though I'd use that title since I've been so perplexed by the subject of childhood. During dinner my host mom had this interesting thought while the three kids were running around acting like zombies...or retarded llamas, I'm not really sure which: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGW0tzSV6gDMpDW3-WV-8GXzU5g1Njpfg2sW_k_A1ouyXg11WoOblgljg4Q8AGyWJLyDivDBG9mJJiFmfVc92PO5YPb74JMRs8Y3ng3Q1g5pC2fm6IsZ1Y0I7CRgbvTqShUiZHVej3f4U/s1600/Kimbap-1-5.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGW0tzSV6gDMpDW3-WV-8GXzU5g1Njpfg2sW_k_A1ouyXg11WoOblgljg4Q8AGyWJLyDivDBG9mJJiFmfVc92PO5YPb74JMRs8Y3ng3Q1g5pC2fm6IsZ1Y0I7CRgbvTqShUiZHVej3f4U/s320/Kimbap-1-5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525634717136439042" /></a> something about how human energy changes over time (she explained it in Korea, but I'm pretty sure I got the gist of it). Kids never stop running around, at least until they fall flat on there faces or fall asleep after a long day. They eat a little sugar and all hell breaks loose; adults think snow is cold yet kids romp and play and till their fingers turn black and snot freezes to their upper lip. Over time this energy changes. Some time during adolescence boys stop romping in the snow <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin3j-rY3I6wJ_HpOmAnPZVv9bKkDcVhGuOWKtkoalJwjDRbQlyWkhPPJI9Nh6oe9BgTb5CKcHv_bpYxXRgq9zOOlM3m2WagSlGvBLICP-8tilr-Dj0R1JOjzeJemXHvEccQsT4CmWG9KA/s1600/Kimbap-1-4.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin3j-rY3I6wJ_HpOmAnPZVv9bKkDcVhGuOWKtkoalJwjDRbQlyWkhPPJI9Nh6oe9BgTb5CKcHv_bpYxXRgq9zOOlM3m2WagSlGvBLICP-8tilr-Dj0R1JOjzeJemXHvEccQsT4CmWG9KA/s320/Kimbap-1-4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525634534617256082" /></a> and start romping around looking for girls. Play energy turns into sexual energy. As an adult, you start to care about things more. You have to use your head at work, thus all your energy turns cerebral. The last point I found pretty hilarious: old ladies (at least in Korea) never stop talking...so I guess all that cerebral energy turns into talking energy. By the time you're old, decrepit and senile...the energy is gone. To be honest I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, just that's it's an interesting point that I wanted to remember--or at least share with you. <br /><br />Also on the subject of energy, the kids at school were bouncing off the walls today. I only had three classes, but it might as well have been three rounds wrestling a polar bar in a McDonald's ball pit. Usually about a quarter of the kids are sleeping, half of them are talking and pretending I don't exist while the rest are either sleeping with their eyes open or feigning interest and understanding of what I'm talking about. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUBtoxKC_8iW3x9l8TRaROetHNhHOLan9oEEAHl8j8ZTVF81yQ5qIFIw_IWMWeYxFp-mcXIJHiEr8BhNiiosTcr7Vkcynqup7j2mICUamL4bPCWX5AYUq48-h-eZc9Hi94q3g1PNTAd4/s1600/Kimbap-1-3.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUBtoxKC_8iW3x9l8TRaROetHNhHOLan9oEEAHl8j8ZTVF81yQ5qIFIw_IWMWeYxFp-mcXIJHiEr8BhNiiosTcr7Vkcynqup7j2mICUamL4bPCWX5AYUq48-h-eZc9Hi94q3g1PNTAd4/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525635008834057762" /></a> No so today, they were hitting and kicking (literally), throwing random objects or making strange Himalayan chanting sounds (again, I'm not kidding). One boy actually slapped me on the ass four times. What do I say to that? I'm half impressed that he had the balls to do it and genuinely confused as to why the hell he would want to. I guess it was just...the Friday routine--I haven't actually taught on a Friday in like 3 or 4 weeks, so maybe this isn't so unusual. As much as I belittle my students though, they really aren't <span style="font-style:italic;">that</span> bad, and a few of them I actually like. One wants me to call him 'Rap Gyu.' This kids is actually a pretty good rapper, and actually freestyled a couple times for me in class. Apparently he won some kind of contest and is going to rap during the opening ceremonies of the Korean F1 Races here in the couple weeks. I mean, I'm no hip-hop connoisseur but he sounded pretty good to me. <br /><br />Oh, and they've also been filming and taking pictures of me at school lately. I got a nice spread in the latest Jungang High School advertisement--"Look, we have an American!" or something like that. Today they were filming me in class and 'kindly' requested (THIS MORNING) that I use a powerpoint. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0WYzpMdgV6u8AlxqqZpmj0Hum1CqU79q7Ef2Na83vs-c91VQ0uN0ZOaR7z698BYyyZ6K1AYpFek1-WSPO0wNnUkPwjQaHQUGtp2BSiVWCRXZ_tu1zFQiIcWGGSyatX-XtxQ8j9SOBVT8/s1600/Kimbap-1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0WYzpMdgV6u8AlxqqZpmj0Hum1CqU79q7Ef2Na83vs-c91VQ0uN0ZOaR7z698BYyyZ6K1AYpFek1-WSPO0wNnUkPwjQaHQUGtp2BSiVWCRXZ_tu1zFQiIcWGGSyatX-XtxQ8j9SOBVT8/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525635172630105650" /></a> I've never used a powerpoint in the classroom. The one time I tried the power was out in my corner of the building for two weeks, so a no-go there. Fortunately I had that same one on hand and I enjoyed the fifteen minute block in which the students were marginally quieter; during filming, that is. I should invite the film crew back more often; have them just stand in the corner to keep the kids quieter during my lecture.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-67850671097916912082010-10-06T15:19:00.007+09:002010-10-06T16:20:47.784+09:00Conference CallApparently every town in Korea has some special bread, history, or sacred mound of dirt...otherwise, why would people live there? Seriously though, any time you mention a particular city in Korea it's like, "Oh, they've got great bread" or "that's the best bibimbap in all of land." Mokpo is known for live octopus (apparently "out of season" right now) and some sort of eel fish. This past weekend I went to the Fall FB conference in Gyeongju, about 5 hours of bus from my neck of the woods. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzDByW54HB8uXo_0SFYic0cdhAOSmQpksr2Dh_ZYcpSV8IJdsaZGKFPOpiCvVVZ1hqDWHSjlZUTk_X9IMMXAw0iBq23nnxgFQ1pthLOW6HQZMHhz126IA3aGcb5Ln12bZd3t6WhAOjYc/s1600/Kimbap-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 195px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzDByW54HB8uXo_0SFYic0cdhAOSmQpksr2Dh_ZYcpSV8IJdsaZGKFPOpiCvVVZ1hqDWHSjlZUTk_X9IMMXAw0iBq23nnxgFQ1pthLOW6HQZMHhz126IA3aGcb5Ln12bZd3t6WhAOjYc/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524828380355313714" /></a> Gyeongju is all about the Silla dynasty tombs (random grassy knolls scattered around the city) and a few temples and castles. It was pretty cool actually, since most other "history" in Korea outside of Seoul consists of kitschy pop memorabilia and funny-looking stones masquerading as a tourist attraction (see: Mokpo Gatbawi park). I've mentioned before that, unlike American joints, Korean restaurants tend to specialize in one thing. The same applies to most of the cities in one way or another--a rejuvenating mud bath, the pear capital of the world, etc, etc. Anyway, Gyeongju's specialty is bread...this sweet little bean past filled concoction of love. I mean, they're good; delicious actually, but I think the town's economy is actually based on these little morsels since 1 out of 3 stores in the town sells nothing but bread. That must be an extremely boring place to work...there's no "what do you want,"no "how do you want that steak cooked".....just "how many."<br /><br />Alright, enough of that. This past weekend's FB Conference was HIGHLY appreciated. For an event that only consisted of one day (Saturday), I got a four day weekend. That actually rolled into my school's midterm testing dates...turning the whole affair into a 6 day weekend. The conference itself was...OK. If nothing else it was nice to listen to other ETAs' funny stories, schools that have better kids than mine and distaster home stays that make me appreciate this one that much more. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCqyyxnmOi8Bf6y4f-eQnQjWL1EEgs4gpIwJv8tOezb-QoiPVJXiPnSLLtqfZj-1pFubEVrbrRmCehr4qsuw7TQh4SrR1-PDbq9XqnjKkjWFcf1g0MtTpFBhro2o7fV4ZmnsQ7G8Eo-g/s1600/Kimbap-1-2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCqyyxnmOi8Bf6y4f-eQnQjWL1EEgs4gpIwJv8tOezb-QoiPVJXiPnSLLtqfZj-1pFubEVrbrRmCehr4qsuw7TQh4SrR1-PDbq9XqnjKkjWFcf1g0MtTpFBhro2o7fV4ZmnsQ7G8Eo-g/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524828617417943394" /></a> I may not have genius kids reading the <span style="font-style:italic;">Times</span> in middle school, but at least my home stay siblings don't hit me and run off crying or crawl into bed with me in the middle of the night. It all evens out in the end...I guess. Well, after sharing stories and not paying attention during large group presentation, half of us hopped on a tour bus to check out the historic sites. Some of the Buddhist shrines and old temples were pretty amazing, but as with most Korean attractions, they were loaded with old ladies and little kids. This only makes me appreciate America that much more. I mean, we have our fair share of paved park trails and giant road-side hot dogs...but in pretty much any national park you can get yourself off the beaten path and live on the wild side for a couple days.<br /><br />After Geyongju, I headed south to Jinju for the night to hang out with Neill and check out the "Lantern festival"....I guess Jinju must be the lantern capital of South Korea or something. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNeEuucCc5BQZZAgGro-l7Cc9Ji97PAq7t3wGVXc_Gx0hGkT44wzdHdFDQknyNtzEQ8x82zNbVjtCrqLylhE8z4VpIGNaialzm1AeG_KiQsmEsvQs_OQKVCdqQnFbDM8V8RMN_u-SZEk/s1600/Kimbap-1-3.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNeEuucCc5BQZZAgGro-l7Cc9Ji97PAq7t3wGVXc_Gx0hGkT44wzdHdFDQknyNtzEQ8x82zNbVjtCrqLylhE8z4VpIGNaialzm1AeG_KiQsmEsvQs_OQKVCdqQnFbDM8V8RMN_u-SZEk/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524828806024140802" /></a><br /> In all seriousness though, the festival was pretty impressive at night and well worth the trip. During the day we toured an old castle on the river's edge--apparently famous for a Korean geisha that pushed a Japanese general off a cliff in the 16th century. I know it sounds odd, but the whole "famous" thing is just the norm over here. To give you an idea, we get in the cab to head to the castle on Monday, tell the cabbie where to go, and then he's like "Oh, so you know the story of the geisha who"....as if the entire city it defined by this one event.<br /><br />Well, during the day the festival was little more than a bunch of oversized cartoon characters floating around in the river--anything form dragon floats and Buddhist shrines to giant weightlifters and miniature sports stadiums. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6_P3sw_1eZfNr5uHIK4PlWGZKvzNotDpNoZyN1Ss3dRGnjXzQeFNocLw6YY39G0Tapkk2DCZBkJX9H8xQIhpS_Ewk2Vki4yHlFYDH1tXkuULaYR4JmRoubM726xsq4ujVpAyCBh7u4g/s1600/Kimbap-1-4.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6_P3sw_1eZfNr5uHIK4PlWGZKvzNotDpNoZyN1Ss3dRGnjXzQeFNocLw6YY39G0Tapkk2DCZBkJX9H8xQIhpS_Ewk2Vki4yHlFYDH1tXkuULaYR4JmRoubM726xsq4ujVpAyCBh7u4g/s320/Kimbap-1-4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524828948719780850" /></a>At night they've got them all lit up, putting on a pretty good show along side the food stalls and Korean carny' games. Yes, Korean carnies do exist. They have the typical baseball throw and bb gun shoot....mixed in with the 'eel dump' in case you ever forgot you were in Korea. In that last one, you just grab an eel out of a jar and dump it in a big trough with little rooms--whichever room it goes in you get the prize with the same number...<span style="font-style:italic;">plenty</span> of room for interpretation there. The festival goes on all week, so anyone who's reading this over here and has the time to check it out, I highly recommend it. Over and out.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-38282288960599080602010-09-30T21:04:00.007+09:002010-09-30T21:41:36.718+09:00Full on RubdownThat was the best haircut I think I've ever had. In case you were wondering, $7 dollars in Korea gets you an scintillating haircut, a deceivingly erotic head massage and a free bottle of "freezing" shampoo. The head massage I didn't see coming...which made it all the more exciting. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5jC9wXjHuZ0y6oWzoIeftQGnR0CvfADTG0fCQNmtZtD-CGO-gct7sycaqZxKQ3CZWVQW4JEhAkq5MaQ-cVWghMyRe2aqJVdupoTvYK-F6RR-WR6yoMNtgP8Lb8ZpzsAK4WdjkQi7vu4s/s1600/Kimbap-1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5jC9wXjHuZ0y6oWzoIeftQGnR0CvfADTG0fCQNmtZtD-CGO-gct7sycaqZxKQ3CZWVQW4JEhAkq5MaQ-cVWghMyRe2aqJVdupoTvYK-F6RR-WR6yoMNtgP8Lb8ZpzsAK4WdjkQi7vu4s/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522683487122861410" /></a>Well, aside from my deep satisfaction and this newfound love of Korean hairstylists, life in Mokpo is in a flux. The fall breeze is rolling in, whipping up that cold chill that'll bring about the cornucopia of colorful leaves in a few weeks. I don't necessarily have any heartfelt longing for America right now, but I guess it's this time of year that I start to feel a bit nostalgic for Autumn in Ohio. I mean, the winters suck, the summer is hot and humid--but the other two seasons, however long or short, never fail satisfy the craving for elementary perfection. I guess it didn't hurt that I went to "One fo the Prettiest Colleges in the World" according to some. <br /><br />Over on this side of the earth, though, I think Chuseok must have been some definitive turning point in the year--whether <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj06XriLuc231AkcHPE78Dm99oSiZhwIxrlZJlfxWNHp1EoEwiB1lurKa6pxOjCfc0kolE0Xq8nly3XR5qYHN6iPlDmEaMCAt_pYN_Ccg86RKF0puDQszgqKi9vKQwrTmK6o_aZaoLJPC8/s1600/Kimbap-1-2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 201px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj06XriLuc231AkcHPE78Dm99oSiZhwIxrlZJlfxWNHp1EoEwiB1lurKa6pxOjCfc0kolE0Xq8nly3XR5qYHN6iPlDmEaMCAt_pYN_Ccg86RKF0puDQszgqKi9vKQwrTmK6o_aZaoLJPC8/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522685297884360002" /></a> openly acknowledged or not. It's like all of a sudden everyone started wearing long sleeves and pretending its cold outside. I was also wondering why the gym was so crowded on Monday and Tuesday--and one of my co-teachers enlightened me by explaining how much everyone eats over the holidays, then proceeds to the gym for two to three days after they start to feel fat. It may come a little bit earlier than back home, with or without the 'resolution' part, but I guess we're alike than more ways than I could have imagined. <br /><br />For lack of any midweek excitement, I thought I'd also mention how ridiculously fast everyone eats in Korea. I really don't want to generalize here, but it's not just my homestay family, or every single teacher and student at school, or when I go to the restaurants...OK, you get the point. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheBh9PLZBfKJNbtRUVjVyLGVkBMFV-IJsoCg6NEzR-KCSiOYbsefnyOaLgaJ019Pls1_lxhFCT8JkzbiWUDDCmRNa3xOY8Qm-IzqtYOyzyaxXdvXo3l7TRp473kI3a-DeQOSQYbxaSjno/s1600/Kimbap-1-4.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheBh9PLZBfKJNbtRUVjVyLGVkBMFV-IJsoCg6NEzR-KCSiOYbsefnyOaLgaJ019Pls1_lxhFCT8JkzbiWUDDCmRNa3xOY8Qm-IzqtYOyzyaxXdvXo3l7TRp473kI3a-DeQOSQYbxaSjno/s320/Kimbap-1-4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522685641120096706" /></a>I'm just amazed at how whenever I eat it's like a race to stuff it all down and then pass into a food coma. The school lunch room goes from zero to 300mph then back to zero again in about 10 minutes. Usually I just watch and giggle to myself--but sometimes it's a matter of life and death. I mean, there's only so many quail eggs on the homestay table...which seem to be a hot commodity for whatever reason I cannot figure out. My little brother covets them like they're the only golden tickets to Willy Wonka pleasure-ville, so if I'm gonna get some protein I better bring the battle ax to the table and prepare for a pissing match. No, it's not actually that bad, but primal instincts do flair up every now and then.<br /><br />I'll leave it at that, and then go pass into haircut-pleasure coma for the rest of the evening.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-16285232676198155882010-09-27T20:28:00.008+09:002010-09-27T20:50:27.671+09:00Jeju LoveWe get a fairly generous paycheck from our schools every month—to be honest though, if I set my heart on it I could survive here without spending a dime. As per the home stay, we get “free” housing and meals every day. Thus I only ever need to spend money if I want to go out eating, drinking, or best of all—traveling. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwVWKmwKWo0aJHmFP340wW5VxvfMenbpnFwNibtwINeL23wq3QGD-nGDvDrfurnwPgzDPFaNLF9ssSubYxqGe6p6yJDa65JgP0MmTYLCgRV9AUDoejEQxg46ixYViMydskZLwrY1vZYI/s1600/Kimbap-1-8.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwVWKmwKWo0aJHmFP340wW5VxvfMenbpnFwNibtwINeL23wq3QGD-nGDvDrfurnwPgzDPFaNLF9ssSubYxqGe6p6yJDa65JgP0MmTYLCgRV9AUDoejEQxg46ixYViMydskZLwrY1vZYI/s320/Kimbap-1-8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521555877442010146" /></a>This is where Mokpo becomes exactly what I was looking for. Sure, it’s probably the farthest I could be away from Seoul, but it’s also the shortest and cheapest trip possible down to Jeju Island. On that note, let me just throw out another wonderful perk provided by the FB program: you go to orientation, get to know a load of other people your age, and then suddenly scatter all across the country. What this means is that you have people to see and reasons to travel to various locations all around Korea; Jeju is no exception. <br /><br />The Mokpo-Jeju ferry takes anywhere between 4-5 hours depending on the wave conditions. That means I spend the first 2 <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqG-pGRad4xufOqOOwFlXNW9RxqTook1TxIonAlcAOtSzoHRQdT6zYnBxb_0QU8eHAkjbivAdFEn7K12TG1zCZFhTOmDc0j9kz5AWlORBcYAs5-jVOGdg2GMXY6ceTUlG0W53swT_iowY/s1600/Kimbap-1-12.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqG-pGRad4xufOqOOwFlXNW9RxqTook1TxIonAlcAOtSzoHRQdT6zYnBxb_0QU8eHAkjbivAdFEn7K12TG1zCZFhTOmDc0j9kz5AWlORBcYAs5-jVOGdg2GMXY6ceTUlG0W53swT_iowY/s320/Kimbap-1-12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521557521675422962" /></a>hours running around the top of the boat, checking out the beautiful island scenery and then the final hours wondering where the hell Jeju is and why the boat has to keep rocking back and forth. Well, any potential hard feelings were quickly wiped away once I reached the island—had a glorious burrito at ‘Zapatos’ (Jeju has a nice, trendy, expat scene and hence a of number of excellent restaurants in the downtown area) and relaxed with a few brews and a smile at one of the nearby beaches. Damn, the beach is always nice. <br /><br />There are 5 of us ETAs in Mokpo, all of whom came down on this trip to meet something like 9 or 10 scattered around the island (when I say scattered, the Island really isn’t that big—despite slow speeds you can drive…or scooter…across it in about an hour). <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7AY_IfJgnpsU5SKE6x57bE7F3CZh8eZCbDvuqB-d4xH069tAqxfu9AtikE11CbL88shOLlejcE7xAJQhvtUx7DpFOVYtXfajPcm4VsCk420-DM0HLLrTsZZ_Gg6w5f7gNv0-sRNJOWY/s1600/Kimbap-1-7.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7AY_IfJgnpsU5SKE6x57bE7F3CZh8eZCbDvuqB-d4xH069tAqxfu9AtikE11CbL88shOLlejcE7xAJQhvtUx7DpFOVYtXfajPcm4VsCk420-DM0HLLrTsZZ_Gg6w5f7gNv0-sRNJOWY/s320/Kimbap-1-7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521558607643691250" /></a>Furthermore, Jeju isn’t exactly Hawaii, but it might as be since all I got was sunshine and a sea breeze for all three days. The first night there was also spectacular—as Dave took us out to the Factory (some sort of Andy Warhol retro hole in the wall) and introduced me to one of Heaven’s gifts known as Amaretto Beer. Then we capped the night off at a few random Korean joints with some wonderfully cute Korean girls that Beilin brought out via her host family. I’ll gloss over some of the details at this point, just let it be known that I got a pretty late start the next day. <br /><br />That was not, however, for nothing—as we spent the next afternoon back on the beach taking in more sun and sporting around the ocean on sea kayaks. I’d <img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-hNuBvpuYrZraYE2gSK33AlFZLSxJFgRQa54HzjfWD8XW0_QgvYS_YjyKhTeoGBDBTPrqYLSpP45wHsYO45LQvUu-L3CzVSvgbfsT0DyrLHlHXQcsqJewgeKDujgGDCE_Ar_Bzbqe6U/s320/Kimbap-1-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521554113760842258" /> forgotten how much fun kayaking can be, let alone on the open ocean. With the wind blowing and a hefty waves here and there—catch one just right and you can ‘sail’ for quite a ways or else find yourself diving head first into the ocean. These were open kayaks, of course, and the beach was all sand—so no death defying experiences just yet...those were saved for the next day when we rented scooters. <br /><br />In a nutshell, Korea hasn’t embarked on this utterly confused safety culture that America seems to savor. Let me give you an example: you head to the scooter shop and, in broken English of course, they ask you “do you know how to drive a scooter?” “No,” you respond. “All right, here’s the keys.” <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJcYDUxJkscGlyZro-ZPOlBoYOwjDkvSKBk0ST9gyEpJA36iWdvKTy1tPGo3fk8II0AA4dQZcCnFxcaCi0TPAD9w61W-s3VMdCv5kLZSjsis1U-cqweMogd1DBTPAUw_1cGSIXzFNM9u0/s320/Kimbap-1-9.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521554789131765938" />Fifteen bucks, no signature, and a short lesson on how to turn the thing on—you’ve got yourself two wheels of insanity for the day. I mean, you can also rent cars and golf carts—but who doesn’t like the feeling of 100cc between your legs and a sea breeze through your hair? Dave by the way should be dead, or the bus should have a head-size dent in it—I don’t know which—but it was still fun as hell. Well, as of this writing I’m still alive and crawling my way through the washing machine known as the Jeju-Mokpo ferry. Next goal: rent scooters and drive across Korea; it can be done.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-47474195479593853262010-09-27T20:02:00.011+09:002010-09-27T20:28:40.376+09:00Rockin' the ChuseokEveryone looks forward to American holidays: the time off, the tasty food, maybe a bit of family mixed in. Year in and year out I’m pleasantly refreshed by the beginning of January and ready to take on the new year. <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPO_D9b8IuHemHpENLtC3xThvRrn2QGtP7_CMflzNlWvdyGyjDdnV7bM05iIw1f2HUcOsIikzVOhbsmX1fQ9qAEvtXAYdvZhcBihDHzOLUlDPq46epzoNrsJeYIqnfv68he25NXVjK9qo/s320/Kimbap-1-10.jpg" style="text-align: left;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 134px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521549084939556466" />Naturally then it’s a pleasant surprise to spend time with a new family and get to know another set of holidays. This past week was Chuseok, one of two major holiday periods in Korea—I’m not sure what the other one is yet, but I’ll report back on that as soon as it rolls around. The Gods of Chuseok must have been looking out for me though when they scheduled it on a Tuesday-Thursday; meaning why bother go to work on a Friday? I.e. we get a 6 day weekend, time to eat, time to relax, and time to travel.<br /><br />Apparently the first day of Chuseok is a cooking day, hence that’s exactly what the host family did. My pseudo-father over here is the eldest brother of the <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmpFEthuVhnsRkhar3ahsYQeWUkwnHAzhl6robVH3xKU_xrXcP8c2cb1ybyd0dw7OpQEVCxWaSR2yJtheL6Yc4gfYKwJNFGr_-kGdqhYTtgxaCq5DbUcq9ubqF-sA55a6nYbKEyzTa7w/s320/Kimbap-1-4.jpg" style="text-align: left;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521549941402691602" />family, which means that all the festivities go down at our apartment. Tuesday morning rolls around and my host mom is frying, grilling, rolling her way to perfection alongside grandma and a few other relatives. Needless to say there’s a prescribed list of food to cook—kind of like a Thanksgiving turkey, green bean casserole, etc except that everyone in the country cooks pretty much the same thing. This includes an assortment of fruits, fried vegetables, raw and supposedly cooked poultry, beef, and pork, rice and a thousand different kimchi.<br /><br />I’m pretty sure my host parents were up till at least 12pm cooking, but that’s nothing when you consider they got up at 4 pm to start cooking again and get things ready for the big hurrah. The big hurrah, of course, is when I get to whip out my brand spankin’ new Hanbok—i.e. the traditional Korean outfit that I mentioned in the last. I’m pretty sure I could never find one of these in the stores that would fit me, <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpLX2s5xfyYeVQwC92ZIAsvXTnHK8GH8utj20SNTxhVa2v6Fdu1YbqB7VB1Y400b7TKDCWb1013F11CcEz5SecLUXh7XmezrSnp-SUiUqAlP3Vb68SY9TLj3Lf3jB3yM1WKQ7GJagfYc/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" style="text-align: left;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521547498562241138" />but old Jungang High School decided to throw down and have one tailored to fit me…so who am I to complain? I will wear it with pride. I mean, even in Korean people nowadays wear it at most twice a year (for each of the two holiday)—I’m sure I could make it work at least for Halloween parties and whatever random Korean ballroom galas I go to back home (wait, what?). In any case, I wore the getup a few hours Wednesday morning when the family bowed down in front of the food laid out on a bunch of tiny wooden platters. There are, apparently, two rounds of bowing, followed by some waiting, and then we finished with a quick round of eating. I’m actually a little surprised that we didn’t eat most of the food that was laid out—but I guess that was for the ancestors, not us. Damn, what was I thinking.<br /><br />Considering how much time they spent cooking, the thirty-minute or so bowing and eating part was actually a bit anticlimactic. Regardless though, we <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUu0L4XLztB_q2IUApz3uVHmsuY-XGDodt-nMdbX9P0m4fd1J2NXqGG9rc4iA4wiSda7jBs9X8tXTJOPL0mkc0MV06Gc4rhjeFiE73WMSzcCn8F2eMCGTsDsjgU13hy7mK-TyRIEDBZK4/s320/Kimbap-1-5.jpg" style="text-align: left;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 154px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521548783387859746" />spent the rest of the day running all around the province, bowing in front of the ancestral gravesites and visiting relatives that I’m pretty sure my host family only sees one day a year. By that I mean I saround for most of the day, get in a few words of garbled conversation here and there with various country folk and eat whatever sort of sumptuous sustenance they put in front of me. By the end of it all, I’m ready for my trip to Jeju Island.Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-71926994781075627782010-09-18T16:19:00.015+09:002010-09-18T17:15:30.843+09:00To Routine or Not to RoutineOne of the biggest dilemmas I've had in Korea has been developing a routine--wake up, go to work, teach some classes.....Having some semblance of "normal" makes living in a foreign country that much easier. But while I'm eagerly searching for that daily comfort zone affordedby such a routine, part of me wants to keep shaking things up; keep stepping<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9sPhKumFlxedykSLbGTfmLXSLujJGnCwjtW4_vDlEet6qaiLwxU3VRi-8SFERgOGJ5-AdM8Kzy7dGhUK0m8RmHYdKxuAl9rPUUYSbLzYaJOM_yLWceqvpJerNPewigMcT9VhDEGSxzM/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518160550124927778" />outside that comfort zone, try new things and bend my mind a little bit more. I don't mean just trying new foods and so forth, that seems to come with living in Korea whether I like it or not--the question is whether I settle into something I'm "used to" or instead keep bombarding myself with uncomfortable situations and newexperiences. It's a struggle, because now that I'm teaching almost every day and getting to know the homestay family, I actuallyhave the option to lay back, kick my feet up and coast through the year. The flip side is the dirt path, scenic route to the well-trodden highway of comfort. The dirt path is harder but the rewards are always greater. If I've learned one or two things in this regard--it's that I'm always comfortable with the easy route but happier, though often physically and emotionally exhausted, with the scenic route. That, and I've found the tried and true method of always finding the scenic route: "Yes." By that I mean, the answer is always yes. Yes I'll take that drink. Do you want to come to X this weekend? Yes. I can't read this menu, but do you want to try this one? Yes, Yes I do.<br /><br />I've posted a few pictures on here from the Seoul trip last weekend, including the lovely trip to watch FC Seoul crush Daegu. This week in Mokpo hasn't been particularly exciting, although I did get Thursday off and get a welcomed 6 day weekend next week...I don't know whether I should say a 6 day weekend or a 1 day work week, either way it might as well be 9 days off because going to work for 6 hours in one week is more like the "exciting" part of a 9 days of mandatory vacation. In any case, the break is for the Korean Thanksgiving: Chuseok. I'll be <img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8NrH0k7LdnLZ52l0m94Ftm2jwnvLo66ykjIj88oLZERJafGBInCjwhwZBFdAekNbcRJg1l_rwdR9E9LNtNfLH6uGIFel70LcJsJqKXQ18MiLZaIajAu-MNxvuu1LkMRjnm87Hyk-Kczk/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518160323902459714" /> spending the first couple days with the (extended) homestay family--for which thoroughly expect excellent cooking, drunk relatives, and strangely colored traditional clothing. I'm actually pretty confident on that last one because, well, I'll be wearing some myself. For whatever generous and culturally magnanimous reason, the school decided to drop a dime and buy me a traditional Korean Hanbok. I don't have any pictures of it just yet, but you can Google "hanbok" and get a pretty good idea what I'm talking about. These suits aren't cheap, either, but I think the school had some special relationship with whatever seamstress I went to to have my measurements taken. I'll have to ask the FB office if I can wear the suit to the black tie 60th Anniversary Gala...I mean, it <i>is</i> a formal suit and all, but I don't know how that would go over.<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>On one last note, I think I had the first (or maybe 2nd, I honestly don't remember) dish that I<div style="text-align: left;">flat out didn't enjoy: sea squirt bimbimbap. </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRf9tmPyDZWpwbVtTR4F-m5mXosAcAkoJtcAbjKKvrxe2bWP6V4VSpmbfQVrMY697nip_byjdNp2yS-JnfIRGpulcXZo9VJFdpz2uFa2fu1fWcX7SqVahCMKNzKhpKfnlqxsU9RsmTTQ/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" style="text-align: left;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518160086249599266" /><div style="text-align: left;">On one hand this dish <i>really </i>did not hit the spot, leaving me with the queazy feeling for a couple hours, but to be honest it wasn't that much of a disappointment. While borderline awful, if I hadn't eaten it I would never know what raw sea squirt tastes like--though I think it was actually the strange sauce that made the dish so unappealing. so that's an accomplishment in itself. Though maybe I'm just happy that I finally found something here that I don't like to eat. Oh yea, I also forgot to mention that my host dad brought home a whole pig head home the other day, then proceeded to hack away at it on the kitchen table. Out of shear curiosity I decided to sit there and watch him for a few minutes. He really had no idea what he was doing...but that didn't stop us from eating random chunks of pig head (ear, tongue....) for breakfast and dinner the next few days. Funny how I almost forgot about this, I guess that comes with the territory these days. </div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-83012093884309732062010-09-13T19:21:00.006+09:002010-09-13T19:49:45.998+09:00The Heart of Seoul<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwpe7QmKjSVGovvuo7bPtFMA-T22TViXW2fHURBerwLi3hr8eVLam7NtK6DlCRcWidVl68nl7e1iDimETzNL_BjsFyxrpc9IzwiukrPdW1q2CnQz_4CahU6yMl7MarUkVncODb5-mSLA/s1600/Kimbap-1-3.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwpe7QmKjSVGovvuo7bPtFMA-T22TViXW2fHURBerwLi3hr8eVLam7NtK6DlCRcWidVl68nl7e1iDimETzNL_BjsFyxrpc9IzwiukrPdW1q2CnQz_4CahU6yMl7MarUkVncODb5-mSLA/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516347674453156962" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">So in addition to sitting in on Jing's classes this weekend, I also spent a few days in Seoul. Erin set Dave and I up with a bed at the Yellow Submarine hostel in Hongdae for the weekend and it couldn't have been a better location. I think I've mentioned Hongdae before, but it's like the chic, though not too poshy, college atmosphere that I'm always looking to spend a few days in. You can find anything from cheap bars to blues cafes, not to mention a random little area that had an unusual amount of Spanish (Spain, actually, not latin America) restaurants and at least one Korean with an identity crises sporting a Videla mustache. But then again, maybe he was just showing off the fact that he was the 1 in 100 Korean man that could actually grow one; we'll never know.Basically, every time I head to Seoul I love it a little bit more. Whatever you're in the mood for, whatever atmosphere, food, or smell in the air that strikes your fancy--just hop on the subway and 1-2 dollars get's you exactly what you're looking for. With that in mind, I had my first<i> truly</i> American food at an Aussie bar in Itaewon upon first arriving. Though I haven't really had an special craving the Western grub, the blackened chicken sandwich, fries and beer really hit the spot.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'll just jump right to it now and tell you the highlight of the weekend: Foreigner day at FC Seoul, the local professional soccer team. Let me just point out that a) they play in the Seoul World Cup Stadium (pictures to come shortly) so you know its a good venue and b) foreigner day means 10,000 won (~8.50) gets you a free vuvuzela, hotdog and beer (2, actually), and--though it wasn't exactly advertised--all the Makkoli you can drink. The stadium was decidedly</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>not </i>packed with people (maybe 1/10 full) but the aforementioned perks along with the extremely loud and excited home </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1Fuo5eXPmEC_2Ga3IqQPy3OK9PPb53P4yNMt5o6VJfd7uMLl7rfi5LnuUPfo2niLb9ugRhKj-mwGba3OcvSEO7gwNc2BkbqN_Hajmpd7lPi6o72xvhnRHU-aMnDdbFF6YfiwBNRdI_s/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516347944474859970" /><div style="text-align: justify;">section made for an excellent time. Let's just say I found new and wonderful uses for the vuvuzela (videos available in due course) and just meeting some Buckeye fans donning the scarlet and grey jersey halfway across the world really made the day. This was actually my first time to a professional soccer game, and I was thoroughly impressed. To be honest, I think the Korean cheerleaders put the Dallas Cowgirls to shame--but they can certainly get away with a lot. I hear the Korean national team is playing Japan next month...though hard to come by I'm definitely gonna have to try to get ahold of those tickets.</div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-50776590561798616712010-09-12T20:27:00.008+09:002010-09-12T21:19:23.820+09:00Don't Compare<div style="text-align: justify;">OK, let me just start by saying, Hell Yes. If there's one thing that can make up for waking up at 4:00 a.m., in a hostel,<i> after</i> a lovely night on the town in Seoul, it's watching the Terrelle Pryor and the Buckeyes walk all over Miami in the 'shoe--if only they knew how to play special teams, the score would have been much more devastating, even if the game were less interesting. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But on to equally exciting albeit less important matters...This weekend I finally got away from Mokpo for a while, first escaping to Daejeon for dinner with Chang, then a stop in Cheongju where I sat in andintroduced myself to Jing's classes. As I mentioned in the last post, this was my first time on a train, which I took from Mokpo up to Daejon on Thursday. Despite the 30 stops and 4 hour ride (I took the</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPcQ8KQQ1R4PpzQXRR_2P08zENoSJWh1TSTePk8i2gAQplNWUoUyPqC0hz75pqAu6NdV2RYJu29mlfMb7gkiR9DlVnksBbgxriao8kaaAusu_abFPtabmWna2SOk_bzbboO6m625RtKI/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 164px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515998096009343682" /><div style="text-align: justify;">MUCH faster KTX train on the way back), I'm now a loyal fan of the Korean train system. A competitive price (~$13 for a 4 hour ride), tons of leg room, few people, and even a concession stand on board make it all worth my while. Oh yea, I guess if I'm discussing first times right now, this was also the first weekend I've been harassed by hobos looking for money--twice, in fact. I don't think I'm even gonna talk about that one since it'll just put me in a bad mood, but let's just say--in line withKorean culture in general--they think it's Ok to touch and grab random people on the street when they want money. But anyway, what I really wanted to talk about today was Jing's classes and the age-old adage, "Don't Compare."</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Let me just begin by saying that <i>everyone </i>has a different experience over here. My students are a bunch of dicks but I love Mokpo and the homestay. Some people have amazing schools, but may work they're asses off in return. Checking out Jing's classroom let me see what a real, (for the most part) academically motivated high school is like. In most cases, the students were attentive, kind, interested, and even had some borderline knowledge of verbal English. The </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bxDcqN9OWPmCqZhpTI0msAKbrbezS-FuVNo-xjrKEn-LPTotcQdD54LFr8Vwm1jICJ5bgjNJhYcMUEBol9VIJ7AvNNS5eUeQN0-gerIltAw5DQ77WLkIt3pIYxnmwvb0d3ofA7Dvdk8/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515998217504095922" /><div style="text-align: justify;">irony is that I really didn't think my students were <i>that </i>bad, even if I knew they didn't really care about learning the language. The one "bad" class she had, in which the students were highly inattentive albeit quiet and well-behaved, was like a dream class for me. Anymore I'll happily take passed-out kids in the classroom--as long as they're not hitting each other and/or trying to talk louder than me. The flip side, of course, is that she teaches 25 classes a week and stays until 8 many evenings correcting essays and talking with students....My students can't write essays, let alone talk, so I think I'm safe in that department. I did, however, find it funny</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvM1TfCuI8PWq5A2WpwhpM2AavlbWgMhUXSKEObozcFlkoZRrkyWCrvFe7l1l9cIai5zO6cGgMfcsqvcRS4EU4rbvxBs9osCeA4JNPIIJSRxuMcMA9hdvO_jRRqYMN-E7tWob17xqcXoY/s320/Kimbap-1-4.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515998875174021442" /><div style="text-align: justify;">how Jing's (English dept) boss made a big hubbub about showing me around the school and introducing me to various personages. That and her host mother, who's also a teacher at the school, took this strange and immediate liking of me--showing up and carting us off to lunch, getting tea afterwards, etc <i><b>and</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> inviting me to stay at their house next time I'm in town--despite the ostensibly cold welcoming that Jing's gets from her. I don't know if I'll ever take her up on that last offer, but it certainly would have been more accommodating than sleeping with 10 sweaty, snoring, Korean men in a bunk bed at the Jimjilbang--which, of course, I did (hey, for ~$4, that's hard to beat). </span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Oh, and I also wanted to mention (again, if I've already done so before) how Korean's LOVE ranking things. While at Jing's school (and this wasn't the first time) I was asked asked on multiple occasions to either pick the prettiest/most handsome person in the classroom or </span></i></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZaTP5OfMrGWmlRfBkAUsAHsnngbdSpcF50lrS7_hQvk72RYXqLJbM_5NV6nWuGVFCn4BGST21Ed8G0hRK4_er4lnlMVozjKtJuAZWufaU3aI0aywxxoGnWrXzXMRS-0z8OUAURzVPjlI/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515997802750099138" /><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">rank </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">such individuals standing before me. Naturally this is a bit awkward and, trying not to hurt </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">anyone's feelings, I politely decline--yet teachers or other Koreans in the room act like it's completely natural to follow through on such requests. It's like they're (students, even adults for that matter) not comfortable unless they always know who the prettiest, smartest, most athletic...person in the room is. Though I also find it amusing how they a) actually care what I think and b) might be more comfortable knowing they're the "ugly" person in the room that not knowing at all. But alas, these are the kinds of cultural idiosyncrasies that I came over here to explore. And yes, they are being explored.</span></i></div></div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-72554308595724252462010-09-08T15:36:00.005+09:002010-09-08T16:05:42.580+09:00I love doing Everything Wrong<div style="text-align: justify;">The host mom is out of town for a few days on a school field trip (the one I *politely* declined to go on) so that means grandma is over helping out with the cooking--at least during </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV982aSRwewaAUf_fIPN36laTPb-IsNzah1MTp0rEbq5Lm1buIQ61GjIrVvGrxLkkXi01P09C4x0Bno8YhCA2P1p9QpUFHYtcgwksux4AcmqbKXlLPTncxEWKSLDJRvaKjz1PpHfudadU/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514434993550005266" /><div style="text-align: justify;">the morning and evening hours. The woman is horribly nice, and I notice the little things she does to make me more comfortable when she's around (see: leaving food for dinner, then calling from her house during meal-time to see if the "American" likes it), though she never fails to help me remember that I'm actually not Korean. Like the way she talks to me; she knows I don't understand anything she says--especially when it all comes out with a heavy accent, slurred, and fast as all hell. I mean, most conversations start out this way. But most other people, if they're actually interested in communicating, either slow things down or eventually find words that I do understand. That last point is probably the greatest irony: I actually know a fair amount of Korean now--but when there are 10 different ways of saying the same thing, it's a guessing game for Koreans to figure out what I do and do not know. There's also the food thing...for which grandma was lambasting my host dad (about me) this morning. I.e. I do everything wrong.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Rule number 1: You don't drink while eating..."bad for digestion" (I usually don't do this here, to fit in, but I was especially thirsty upon waking up this morning). Rule number 2: When you finish your rice, why the hell would you ever eat anything else on the table? This second one is like a balancing act that I haven't quite mastered yet--timing how much rice I eat with other</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnyFKDbSWU0jMdSJjSuT0nMm92reJN_HA_fYq9hohNxzD11lPOwkcJZeYLkIpzU6GeEQ3wAkpjvXBGmLEyVx9fAAKPFxvPAvkfIxRrrBj5YHvsT6DpsFASnczrb9ib5UwHbUjL8KuA0I/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514434672487896738" /><div style="text-align: justify;">foods so I don't just end up eating the meat or various styles of kimchi after my rice is gone...atwhich point the people here just stare at me curiously at I say, "what? It's delicious." Rule number 3: You <i>always</i> finish your rice. Panchon (side dishes) leftover's are completely OK. In fact, it's odd to finish them and what's left is generally stocked away for the next meal. But the rice! I think it must be in Section II, Article IV or the Korean Constitution: Thall Shalt FinishYour Damn Rice, though maybe not in those words.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Going back to the big picture, I think summer is finally heading out. It's bright, sunny, and in the upper 70's today. What I meant to say with that last sentence is that I can finally ride my bike around without looking like <i>that sweaty American</i>. Perfect timing too, I would say, since I have this little 5 day vacation, giving me a chance to enjoy Mokpo and travel around a bit. I successfully navigated the KTX (Korean Rail) website this morning and booked a trip to Daejeon for tomorrow afternoon, where, following dinner, I will take a bus up to the one and only Cheongju. I don't know why I'm so excited, except that I've never ridden a train before--except for the silly ones they have at petting zoos and various other urban rail systems. There's a first time for everything I guess. </div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-56316100676943919372010-09-06T20:51:00.010+09:002010-09-06T21:03:48.423+09:00Looking in vs. Looking out<div style="text-align: justify;">So I'm heading down the freeway yesterday withthe homestay family, on our way to Wochulsan National Park, and I got to thinking. Studying a different culture from abroad is like peering into diorama; you look, you inspect the intricacies and marvel at the detail, but you never really get to know the little figures, their lives, their thoughts, or really how they live. Just like anyone else, I can take a class on Korean culture and learn about the food, the daily routine, the history that "defines" the people--and I might know things, but I'll never really understand until I jump in head first and actually live life on the other side. I bring all this up because, well, I spent thelast few months looking in...getting ready and cramming my brain</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6Dwq3lHsy9uUaLMlARUi6r3-vO6BPUEk-o7ttLzjr4sIEq8YlwgBFgGyOLdpE4JP8OkXrDXfp3kepKQSIKCpRvHfO6zo9-2xI4Kv_Xk1Y7rnHz2TdszGDjYhFmYDCrzK19r-ntHDsBs/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 192px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513767190730115666" /><div style="text-align: justify;"> with whatever I thought might help me get by over here...and now I'm looking out. Modern Korean history doesn't matter now. Sure, it puts certain emotions in context: like when my host mother tells me that Japan's youth is forgetting what happened during colonization (we had just gone to a modern history museum), but Korean people will never forget because all mothers explain these things to their children. Before, I was learning about Korea and trying to see the facts in real life. Now this is real life, and I try to put the facts in context. But then again, some facts do not need context. Why do Koreans eat kimchi and rice at every meal? Because they do. Why do mothers push their children so hard, make up homework when the school doesn't assign it, and send their elementary school children to </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbCHbv9UvO5FGk_kSaUZAoLVHxdc4gEvDa83yCYgMMX7HnFYxZMl9ZirqxBSyaZUfupxh0bFNx63MF1XZSKK0NlslQ_OPMJuyP65hdypry_lpRU4RVonHNXirqwmco8-6pb01itprGIVM/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 175px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513767710648662946" /><div style="text-align: justify;">Hagwons (basically, after-school school) until 9 at night? Because they care? That assumes American mother's don't care, and I like to think I turned out alright playingbaseballand basketball every night instead of memorizing vocabulary words. No, so many of these things just are; not better or worse, just different. And the fact that they're different is what makes living in another culture interesting. Living in another world, surrounded by a different set of values, both changes the way I understand life--by nibbling away at my worldview--and fortifies the values I had before I ever came. I mean, how can I really know what I do value, if I can never understand what I don't?</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, getting back to the beginning: I spent all of yesterday with the homestay family, hitting up a National Park in the morning and checking out some Mokpo museums later on. I've finally posted a couple pictures of the troupe for your viewing pleasure. First we hit up a small Buddhist monastery, then toured some Korean tea fields (pretty cool actually, although I dont</div></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwtEJWn2rChxNV-a92eLbq86c4gpfwxkM2x9T4cpB5KZp8b20ED5oJbO-F_emL1BveasJhPZe5lFaOir8tlBylaunFQAJajBA3_tWsllBKYFq000Z5fkCLrYl1cLp8zs5ZwWOcFT7mw0/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513767572783157298" /><div style="text-align: justify;">really know why). Then I took a nap on the rocks of a mountain stream while the tikes frolicked around in the water. Ahh, better yet, I added a new first during lunch: mudfish. Not alive thistime, but both fried whole and ground into a soup. This was another one of those joints that specializes in one thing, AKA like every other restaurant. Now, what makes a prospective proprietor come to the conclusion that mudfish, not beef, pork, skate (each of which has a number of sub-specialties) is the right call, I will never know. I think this fits into the worldview discussed above; i.e. don't ask questions, just eat. Regardless, the tub (or more like a trough) of live mudfish in the doorway, squirming around before a hoard of hungry businessmen swallow them up, speaks a thousand words.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Looking forward, this week I'll finally get a chance to travel around on my own. I'm off work after tomorrow (Tuesday) because the students are going on various field trips. I had the</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowY0KLWf_miAlhyzLne51lPEcwHGiRx56rYUJbyvPaqv1NzyYxs4PJWwRxlSuxZ7c1-bhnkW54v5dm7nxwMHHoYlxSJbMGB5cXsbFfaJuCI9Y71sphzaEVto7jaFyXWqtHOyiPPaLPFg/s320/Kimbap-1-4.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513767358925263378" /><div style="text-align: justify;">option of traveling with the first year students...of which I *politely* declined. With all due respect, I get plenty of these kid's sass 3-4 hours a day that being a chaperone on an "educational tour" just didn't quite speak to me. But I digress...I'll instead head North, first to Cheongju to sit in on a few of Jing's classes--apparently they're dying to see a white person, a particular niche that I was born to fit. That should lead into a night of debauchery with the Cheongju Cherries, followed a brief spurt up in Seoul to greet David after his GRE. Give 'em hell, David, give 'em hell.</div></div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-1550022967236551142010-09-02T17:41:00.006+09:002010-09-02T18:25:37.865+09:00Wait, What?So I watched I crime unfold today and I didn't do a single damn thing to stop it. Actually, I wanted to--but I couldn't. Here's the story: I was sitting behind the ol' Mart this afternoon, taking a drink break and enjoying the sunshine before hammering out another day in the gym. Suddenly, I look to my left and there's this little kid, no more than 8 or 10 years old....creeping, yes, creeping, his way in through the back entrance of the store. At first it was more amusing<br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuapVAQqMe0G4twO2B2l3ERZQo6grQcyx2XtZaXbWEEZTBJR8swyjVeKiEzVEkGXTB7ihat5GeMuNMx5dH_kI4KqY6MX5A6m3sxk9qGisJwXBamlLWUBbPlsXJzoC3-Wihl-RSBcLqUhU/s320/Kimbap-1-2.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 146px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512243002530912194" />than anything else, because I honestly had no idea what he was doing. Then as soon as he came running out what a candy bar of some sort, it was all painfully obvious. To be honest, I did nothing. I just watched. On one hand, I was a little shocked. But mostly I was just speechless. Let me emphasize that last part: I couldn't--and still can't--muster up even half the words in Korean to adequately describe what the boy did. I mean, these store clerks/owners eke out a pretty meager existence, so that's just shitty. But what could I do? I wanted to tell the clerk, maybe stop the boy and have him give it back--but really, imagine doing that using only hand gestures and dirty looks...Every day I have another source of motivation to learn this language.<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a lighter (or darker, I dont know which?) note, typhoon Kompasu just blew through Mokpo last night. And when I say blew, that's about right. It started around 4 in the afternoon...just in time to drench me on my way out of school...and finished before I woke up the next</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLTNJ9PJ9SX4eSg8HqcVotLygZ2Ok7iqoF8c08BTA-UddNsSiM6lvi_iOLwvyq2pzxzw3ncy30yTC9Y2BWtYgCuMwuKGKlwmaPce7OHlc99Cy3yeLHUSU72b13mzg-u8NmhP-Am6zeZ7o/s320/Kimbap-1.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512243661772063778" /><div style="text-align: justify;"> morning. Apparently the winds were anywhere from 50-95 mph, but I think I just slept through the bulk of it and woke up to bright and sunny skies this morning. It was, however, enough to drench my lower half in the 3 minutes I spent walking from the cab to a restaurant with the other Mokpo ETAs: Sean, Auburn, and Michelle (seriously, Nora, you missed out). Aside from the typhoon, damn it felt good to speak English at a normal cadence again. On top of that, it was nice to just sit around after dinner, watch the rain, grab some brews (at the New York bar, slightly pricy but nice atmosphere...new goal: find the dive bar with the $1 drafts) and trade horror stories about the past two weeks. This week I think the trophy goes to Sean: getting hit in the chest with a middle school girl's shoe. I guess they thought he looked like W.--though it would be far more hilarious if I thought middle schoolers actually kept up with politics.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a final note, today (or technically tomorrow morning) is my favorite day of the year. <i><b>College Football kickoff. </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Yes, that really does deserve bold and italics, it's that important. The past two weeks, every minute of Gyomushil (teacher's office) free time, ever ounce of late </span></i></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq-Up_Vnxt4DaeUB74LLeNd7-0_Wie-BSYD0N7w9fHsTaIj2jCgSQo9FabY5L-PS3IMQucXXUavvAiLuwGB3bVk9M7OJV8T3-o_FyTt170NuT2aRFC6j0rne4pIpP13Ooatj02SM3HWRA/s320/Kimbap-1-3.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512243373727551250" /><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">night energy, every smidgen of creative inspiration--has gone towards mentally preparing for the season. No, I won't actually touch a football, but I am going to try to watch as many games </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">as humanly possible despite the fact that a 12 noon kickoff back home actually means a 1 a.m. </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">kickoff over here. Goal #2: find a good replay service. You might think this description is overkill, but after long deliberation I decided that college football (and maybe a little NFL, OK, and good beer, too) would be the only lasting remnant of American culture to pervade and infiltrate my life in Korea. We all have our vices; it could be much worse. With that said, if you tell me the Ohio State score before I get to watch the replay, check your mailbox for death threats in two weeks. Ok, maybe three weeks--because I'll use media mail, I'm that cheap.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Btw: the middle picture is me making Kimbap with the fam; I can roll like a champ. </span></i></div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-13851197236280997552010-08-29T22:04:00.008+09:002010-09-02T18:27:48.282+09:00Turning a Corner<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhRJ36uVk8NRhY1TjLYJ_Irqxq_1qmFvpe2gBWhbl-3nd86vpOsc2VKzlJYyIUVvORUhwQdN78ugsAquXsOfHrji9782wCZwgbrF0BV-T-ULS3VUEtu7HNU_YIK0q-01bYb7YASy8rSg/s1600/Seoul+Visit-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 193px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhRJ36uVk8NRhY1TjLYJ_Irqxq_1qmFvpe2gBWhbl-3nd86vpOsc2VKzlJYyIUVvORUhwQdN78ugsAquXsOfHrji9782wCZwgbrF0BV-T-ULS3VUEtu7HNU_YIK0q-01bYb7YASy8rSg/s320/Seoul+Visit-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510824733960714162" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">After a great weekend to relax a bit (see: get some sleep) I think I'm starting to turn a corner over here. By that I mean settle in and "get used to being uncomfortable" as the Fulbright staff would put it. I mean, everything has been great overall--no problems, issues, etc--but I feel like the whole first week I couldn't get enough sleep; My mind just had far too much to process--to understand, sort out--that sleep was the only logical answer. Every single day is a new, previously unimaginable experience. That is: there is no routine, no time "get comfortable." I can see why years abroad, especially for people who immerse themselves in the culture, can be a life changing experience...we'll just have to wait and see how I turn out on the other end.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was also going to comment on some other things, but this evening was way too hilarious to pass up on. In a nutshell, the whole family (the host family, his brother's family, sister's family, grandmother) was trying to set me up with the niece--or so it seemed. I guess the moons aligned just right so I had to sit across from her at dinner. Maybe it was just a coincidence, though, that she came to dinner with a set of pre-prepared questions in English (!#@$@?????). No, it was probably just an accident that she ended up in our van on the way </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5lb0OqPj67DUfC2RpLkP1qW-xXagRWKxTKNYI7PK0S51AvDVX34gf1EQ6qKYljmIoU-43U1Q0PaflhVt9KDJKxg9qevQSCXBmoRQZ04NTZ85BsNMKKQzEGHANHm6jGdNb7ojmuUIhZIE/s320/Seoul+Visit-3.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510825213439385090" /><div style="text-align: justify;">home and we had to wait in the car while the family went in to buy watermelon. She was a very nice girl though, pretty...first year nursing student at some school nearby. I don't know how I feel about the fake (->plastic lenses) glasses though...but I guess that's just all the rage around here. Being an interpreter must be a bear, as I found out trying to decipher broken English for two hours. Let me back up though, it was still a fun time...though a little bit awkward for me and, well, only me. Nothing too fancy happened...so don't get your hopes up. Though this is a prime example of why I started this blog: Because I can't imagine forgetting *random* things like this.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a side note, I can probably add a few more foods to the first time list: chicken feet with beer, pig's feet lettuce wrap (I guess this was just a foot kinda week), skate with makkeoli (like stingray, tough and gnarly as balls). </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPzcyUtXUJi6cFUICtsnVu-yFN7cFotfzfJSu6AYKiekuuj6CUIi5xltoku5ypNMmn8x7Zg7tjMBp4dF59n3u7Z1C0k4YRRbIXKlXTrnp0h5qysEMxiVzHUBUuDd96KAFcFy9k41URfwg/s320/Seoul+Visit-2.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510824987575940706" /><div style="text-align: justify;">And I found out what its like to be lactose intolerant. Out of curiosity I made a point to go without dairy when I came here. I had a couple pieces of pizza that first week, but went about 7 weeks without any. Of course I eat some pizza without thinking on Friday, and of course the cheese on the pizza proceeded to mold itself into a screw and churn its way through my intestines. I didn't think I would change that fast, but I have no otherexplanation under the circumstances. The homestay family saved the day yet again, though, with some random pellet mixture that actually helped. Live and learn. Live and learn.</div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4730053525744352814.post-15535774450280096472010-08-26T17:01:00.011+09:002010-09-02T18:33:32.002+09:00Getting to Know Mokpo<div style="text-align: justify;">Haha, the title rhymes. I'm way to proud of myself for that one. Regardless, I'm sitting here relaxing in a coffeeshop (7 Monkeys Coffee ???) which I though I'd mention is a very...strange...thing to do in Korea. First of all, it's borderline taboo to go to a coffee shop alone. Second, you really only go if you're a) a woman, or b) a man who wants to </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTa4vm9ZLoMariHo0jcy4FsFSEryG9-Ay27VSmbhBTZpU3uHsB9FaFSksTtug8uBoZFD4Y0G4UWVb4pfqpNgk_rbtakj2Dahe9Xf33yhg_5ONFhhjRsAgntpYd1p5-vjw7WKo3Ii3-iMc/s320/Seoul+Visit-1-2.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509637052694197474" /><div style="text-align: justify;">ostentatiously flirt with his girlfriend. I don't really fit any of those categories so I guess I'll just be the social outcast and enjoy my airconditioning (surprisingly hard to come by in Korea), free wireless and delicious green tea latte. What do I care? Back to the important stuff though: I bought a bike on</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sunday. I got a yellow and back Lespo road bike from one of the shops in down (yea, I know, yellow. But this one actually looks pretty snazzy). This is a huge step forward on several accounts. Now I can get into downtown (like a 20-30 min walk) a lot faster and also come home from work early (1.25 hour walk, which sucks...I've done it twice now). I'm actually too big for the frame, materials, etc-- but getting a bike that actually fits me here--in the land of small people--would be damn near impossible. I really haven't been </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL-Tp3bvKD80fsddyccnqRGOB5pfvDBa4-oNXokN4aR5vW_-Z9XcznR5A_OPs5aMTC8Z5k8l9aPaghcLPqOCL4hPbEbRVnW3Xx_WJBc_-F2LBfDBxrGjk0ARWYek3x7PfVOp6j-IJXvHg/s320/Seoul+Visit-1-4.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509638134602593714" /><div style="text-align: justify;">out very far from home yet, though, because I've made a point to spend some time with the homestay family (TV, games, dinners, just talking)--I figure getting to know them and forming good relationships now will pay off in the future. On that note, they really are a great family. The kids are so well behaved, and yet smart, interesting individuals that its almost shocking. By no means do I think all Korean families are like this, so I guess I got lucky. The mother mentioned that she stressed <span style="font-style:italic;">etiquette</span> very early on....so I take note.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On the flip side, I guess I've been ignoring the elephant in the room: school. My first day of teaching was Monday and by now I'm definitely starting to settle into a routine. They've got me teaching a total of 18 hours a week (the rest of the time I can pretty much do anything I want...which naturally means reading about NCAA football and why the Bucks are going to win the championship). I get out early (like 1) 3 days a week, and stay till 4:30 on Wed/Thu. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">School is</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY_cNEhzPyir9hwN6cA6_lm35GWZRPEN9Pg_zcFQH3jZnMILfXo8HrymO_7tH55EsG0_VTD-0mh90imPYbkNzUH2I8Q89k4fwjzeHrPLH4wocQkng4a8P2ezDEwmRhVhDKL_DVsyJ3l0I/s320/Seoul+Visit-1.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509637573739222738" /><div style="text-align: justify;">definitely good, but to put things bluntly: I am teaching all the better-school rejects. It's a vocational school to begin with, so the majority of students are not college bound (or so I'm told) and in the words of my host mom (who teachers there as well), "most of the students come from bad or divorced families"...I'll let you interpret that as you will. It's really not all that bad though; as with any school you have your trouble makers, your girly boys, manly girls, and everything in between. English level is definitely on the bottom end on the spectrum, though there are a few students in each class that seem to have a decent grasp of the language. This of course presents a conundrum that--as I now realize--almost all teacher face: who do I teach to? Should I keep</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJtZb-Xb9PDiFNH4il9QvOhlxkU4_uJj9crxXBIec_Tm28AXKePY2eVAwOn2GoHgh2skeYe66ImUZvEvkrblwMoSVT-0apKx-hTNOUn63nWTlZbPqwUOONLRTTQGC30UbpjZ3yiYHOM90/s320/Seoul+Visit-1-3.jpg" style="text-align: justify;float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509637206889312882" /><div style="text-align: justify;">yelling at the talking students in the back and push the sleeping students out of their chairs...or do I spend more time with the students who actually want, and might benefit from the extra attention. I guess the best answer, which I've heard before, is to "teach to the middle." Hopefully I can find ways to both do well and have fun with it--though I can tell you that about half the students in each class have no intention of learning English.</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I've been pretty longwinded with this post so far, so I'll leave with the "What do you know about America" responses (to the question that I posed at the end of a few classes, to fill that last couple minutes before the bell rang). Obama always comes in the first two or three. Las Vegas shows up in every class, as does the Statue of Liberty and Harley Davidson. Aside from that, I've gotten "Mad cow disease" (if you remember, about 2006 or something like that, there was a big scare here over MCD), New York, Apple and Lebron James, among others. It's always interesting to know what foreigners think of us.</div></div>Chocolateshogunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06372504538380115545noreply@blogger.com0