Yes indeed, my friends. And it is called the R.O.K. Movie Star.
(Note: Korean ships are much like their Western counterparts. Except they are smaller and lighter, with more efficient power systems & engines - therefore making them faster and more maneuverable. On the other hand, their designs and floorplans are sometimes quite confusing, and there are also quite a few typos on essential safety equipment. Moreover, all purchases while on board are tax free.)
After spending nearly 2 years in Asia, I have finally reached the celebrity status that I've been striving toward since Day 1... I am featured in the currently-airing Korean blockbuster The Perfect Game!
Well, not exactly featured, per se, but I did participate in some of the filming, was compensated for my time, and can very probably be seen on screen. And several of my cohorts positively made an appearance either on camera or were named in the credits.
Nonetheless, it's an excellent film. In true fashion of 'based on true events' stories - it does not disappoint & certainly tells a story as only nonfiction can. I highly recommend seeing it - although be prepared if you're a fellow non-Korean speaker - for, excluding the opening scenes, not a word of English is spoken.
The Perfect Game recounts a tale of two ultra-competitive professional athletes of differing generations who struggle to discover in themselves the ability to find common ground in the midst of a time and place that tells them that they shouldn't. The movie's basic plot is: "Choi Dong-Won of the Lotte Giants and Sun Dong-Ryul of the Haitai Tigers are rival baseball pitchers. In an epic showdown these two pitchers faceoff in a 15 inning marathon game."
The final game is, of course, the culmination of the story. But there are many great subplots leading up to the showdown that add so much to the finale. It's ultimate moral is told through the lens of a 'never say die' baseball analogy. The background of its competitive setting wonderfully displays the unifying nature of sports to all of the players, teams, and fans involved. Professional respect & admiration shine through the fierce tension between the opposing teams and individuals. The movie also does a great job of describing the inner conflicts of many characters, and in some cases, shows the resulting unbreakable bonds. Additionally, there are touching family matters, heartbreaking endings of lifelong relationships, and personal (social, financial, and otherwise) struggles of many characters. During all of this, attention is also drawn to attempts by government officials to reduce the event so that it can be used as a political tool. But unfortunately for the concerned parties, the game refuses to be simplified and an authentic human spirit transcends.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
End of an Era?
With yesterday's news regarding the passing of Kim Jong-il, there has been quite the range of emotions here in Korea: shock, but also an understanding of his advanced age; jubilation regarding an anticipation for the ending of an oppressive regime; widespread confusion; sorrow for the death of a countryman; hopefulness of positive changes down the road (including higher than average mentions to possible reunification); wonder of how this might affect the average person; a bit of anxiety and nervousness due to the nature of circumstances, but peace of mind brought on by years of military readiness; sadness for the loss of a life; concerns that conditions (both domestically and internationally) may become even worse under a young and inexperienced heir; and to a lesser extent, surprising indifference to the entire situation.
Working from personal experience, most people's initial reactions are ones of happiness. This is an easy conclusion at which to arrive after watching decades of persisting crimes against humanity, mounds of unequivocal evidence that North Korea has been unmistakably evil to its own, and how the country has been extremely unstable in the global arena. Feeling justified by their country's foreign policy, many Americans seem to appreciate this year's news in a specific fashion. Most auspiciously, we're making considerable gains on that axis of evil! And some of the world's most heinous leaders have perished. First it was Hussein, then this year we get 3 big ones: Bin Laden, Gaddafi, and now finally the Jonger. Happy Days!! Now, we can get down to work on that pesky Khamenei..
In my opinion, these kinds of reactions are unsettling for two major reasons - since they display: 1) an utter disregard for human life, and 2) social/political shortsightedness for the future and ignorance of potential repercussions this event may create.
First (and most simply), I believe that reveling in the aftermath of another human's expiration, regardless of that person's actions while alive, is just plain sick. One can easily, and not at all inaccurately, argue that Mr. Kim was a horrible person who carried out unspeakable wrongs against his own people and whose erratic behavior unnecessarily kept the entire world on edge. But I would respond to that person by reminding them of the terms with which they began that rant: Mr. and person.
Secondly, there's a greater issue at stake that shouldn't be neglected - and that's the significant power vacuum now presented. Undoubtedly, these events most certainly beg a wait-and-see attitude. Although, one also freely wonders if this leads to yet another "strike while the iron is hot" moment.
The hierarchy is less straightforward than ever. Increasingly, talk is made of a great successor in Jong-il's youngest son - the 28 year-old Kim Jong-un - who is arguably less crazy (but also more eager to prove himself) than his old man. Also disconcerting are formal quotes made by the official DPRK news agency, such as:
“[Jong-un stands] at the vanguard of the Korean revolution... to the revolutionary cause of juche [self reliance] and the outstanding leader of our party, military, and people. [His] leadership will guarantee the completion of the revolutionary cause of juche through the generations, after it was started by Kim Il-sung and led to victory by Kim Jong-il.”
On a brighter note, the seeming consensus among Koreans who are old enough to recall the 1994 death of Jong-il's father, Il-sung, is that the change of power this time causes less worry. Recollections of those days are commonly made of ransacking stores for all the available water and ramyun noodles. At the time, a possible outbreak of war was a very real concern, due to the historical knowledge of North Korea's unpredictable behavior, coupled with a robust military. Today, 17 years later, the military and economic power disparities are notably much different. But we all know what happens when a weakened opponent is on the ropes and starts to feel helpless..
Another very likely outcome to all of this is that now politicians around the world are provided with an excellent platform. A platform for exactly what..? Furthermore, the world is obviously scarier and a tenser place when nuclear capabilities exist. I, for one, am trying to remain optimistic.
Working from personal experience, most people's initial reactions are ones of happiness. This is an easy conclusion at which to arrive after watching decades of persisting crimes against humanity, mounds of unequivocal evidence that North Korea has been unmistakably evil to its own, and how the country has been extremely unstable in the global arena. Feeling justified by their country's foreign policy, many Americans seem to appreciate this year's news in a specific fashion. Most auspiciously, we're making considerable gains on that axis of evil! And some of the world's most heinous leaders have perished. First it was Hussein, then this year we get 3 big ones: Bin Laden, Gaddafi, and now finally the Jonger. Happy Days!! Now, we can get down to work on that pesky Khamenei..
In my opinion, these kinds of reactions are unsettling for two major reasons - since they display: 1) an utter disregard for human life, and 2) social/political shortsightedness for the future and ignorance of potential repercussions this event may create.
First (and most simply), I believe that reveling in the aftermath of another human's expiration, regardless of that person's actions while alive, is just plain sick. One can easily, and not at all inaccurately, argue that Mr. Kim was a horrible person who carried out unspeakable wrongs against his own people and whose erratic behavior unnecessarily kept the entire world on edge. But I would respond to that person by reminding them of the terms with which they began that rant: Mr. and person.
Secondly, there's a greater issue at stake that shouldn't be neglected - and that's the significant power vacuum now presented. Undoubtedly, these events most certainly beg a wait-and-see attitude. Although, one also freely wonders if this leads to yet another "strike while the iron is hot" moment.
The hierarchy is less straightforward than ever. Increasingly, talk is made of a great successor in Jong-il's youngest son - the 28 year-old Kim Jong-un - who is arguably less crazy (but also more eager to prove himself) than his old man. Also disconcerting are formal quotes made by the official DPRK news agency, such as:
“[Jong-un stands] at the vanguard of the Korean revolution... to the revolutionary cause of juche [self reliance] and the outstanding leader of our party, military, and people. [His] leadership will guarantee the completion of the revolutionary cause of juche through the generations, after it was started by Kim Il-sung and led to victory by Kim Jong-il.”
On a brighter note, the seeming consensus among Koreans who are old enough to recall the 1994 death of Jong-il's father, Il-sung, is that the change of power this time causes less worry. Recollections of those days are commonly made of ransacking stores for all the available water and ramyun noodles. At the time, a possible outbreak of war was a very real concern, due to the historical knowledge of North Korea's unpredictable behavior, coupled with a robust military. Today, 17 years later, the military and economic power disparities are notably much different. But we all know what happens when a weakened opponent is on the ropes and starts to feel helpless..
Another very likely outcome to all of this is that now politicians around the world are provided with an excellent platform. A platform for exactly what..? Furthermore, the world is obviously scarier and a tenser place when nuclear capabilities exist. I, for one, am trying to remain optimistic.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Let The Truth Be Told...
I am tired of living a life based on hiding from true reality and one founded on the spreading of lies and mistruths. For most of my life, and especially since coming to Korea, I have led one campaign of coverup after another. I have finally come to a place where I'm prepared to tell my deepest and darkest secrets - things unknown to even my family and closest friends. For so long, I haven't allowed myself the utter relief that this revealing process will certainly deliver, by constantly repressing the desire to disclose the actual facts and own my mistakes. In hindsight, my failure to uncover these truths has only furthered the concealment of the monkeys on my back, and served to increase their weight. I am aware that my inaction has been attributed to a fear of possible judgment or lack of acceptance, and I have finally resigned myself to accept the power of healing as well as any potential consequences this may cause.
So where to start? Well, as they typically do, things began rather innocently. Out of a need to maintain a sense of normalcy and holding onto routine in the only way I knew, I joined a local **sigh** gym in the early part of last year. As events progressed and life unfolded, I started paying more and more frequent visits. First, it was the lure of the treadmill. Then, it was the bench press. And eventually, I even gave in to the, dare I say it, the kettle bells. Yes... I am, without a doubt, as disgusted as you surely also must be right now and no acceptable excuse legitimizes my despicable actions.
The hardest part of revealing this shameful habit is reminding myself of all the ways I have caused irreparable harm to so many people. The countless nights that I selfishly left barstools vacant, incalculable numbers of kegs untapped and cigarette packages unopened.. Oh god, the damage that I have caused! Will I ever be forgiven?
In my defense, this inclination originally struck me after I fell victim to an insidious scheme perpetuated by many so-called experts. I ignorantly believed doctors and exercise specialists as they spouted hair-brained theories; hackneyed dogma which said things such as how physical exercise promotes self-improvement and -satisfaction, when this shameful practice is, in reality, really only one performed out of arrogance and an unnaturally false conception of independence. Others told me that exercise would provide a relief from stress. Pfsssh!! I've never heard a belief organized around such an unproven and inadequately tested concept! They also duped me into believing that exercise would allow me to remain mentally stable and motivated. What insane notions!
To boot, my addiction to exercise hasn't been my sole vice during these trying times. There has been a more sinister, more pernicious demon lurking beneath my seemingly fanciful expressions and accepting eyes. I hate to admit it, but I'm a recovering norebanger. You may not be aware of this debilitating condition, so let me describe the practice and hopefully bring awareness to this oft-overlooked subject.
Norebang, or what some may slyly refer to as 노래방, was originally a victimless Korean pastime breaking from the traditional, conservative ways of Japanese-style karaoke. In the abundant 'singing room' establishments throughout the country, patrons are assigned to individual rooms for them and any number of guests, and given the minimum of an hour to make song selections, all while gleefully playing tambourines and drumming on any object in sight. The practice of norebang boasts modest beginnings - whose only purpose was to offer stressed Koreans an opportunity of amusement and expression.
However, norebang later adopted an evil side and has now led to a huge number of interrupted lives and fractured homes throughout the continent. This insidious monster has brought with it just enough comfort to gain entrance into people's hearts & minds, slowly destroyed the trust that it built, and left a trail of withered souls in its path. I advise everyone with whom I come into contact to never even consider 'trying' it out, for it is the quintessential wolf in sheep's clothing. And furthermore, anyone who asks you to give it a shot is not your friend and cannot be trusted.
Some might tell you that norebang is an excellent outlet for creativity. Don't believe them; and remember that you could just as easily take part in an alternate & less dehumanizing form of entertainment. These same people may attempt to mislead you by saying norebang affords you a chance to see friends in new & exciting settings (when any moron knows that you should easily remain content by just visiting people in the usual establishments). Other snake oil they might try to sell is that norebang provides momentary sensations of ecstasy - when it is essential to remember that however real these feelings might appear, they are artificial. You must simply become adept at creating happiness out of any routine, however tedious or boring it may seem.
Earlier, attention was drawn to the fact that I am indeed a recuperating norebanger, intending to someday reclaim a normal life for myself. Personally, American karaoke became a gateway activity that led to my ultimate downfall. Not many people know this: but in a former life, I was a contentedly ordinary guy. It wasn't until moving to Asia when I realized that I had a serious problem. After the chronic late nights and constant reminders of smelling to high heaven of microphones, I knew something had to be done. Friday, September 23rd was the last day that I partook, when I was met with an especially irritated vision in my dreams that night. The next morning, I posthaste enrolled in the local community center's NA (Norebangers Anonymous) chapter and began attending the weekly meetings.
I am pleased to announce that last week I was awarded the coveted Ruby Hiker's Pole, signifying completion of the 11th out of 12 stages in the program. Tonight, I will attempt the final stage of the program, whose goal is to reintroduce a sustainable form of norebang into a person's life. It will be a grand event where I hope to prove to myself and the world that I am able to cope with this struggle and maintain a sense of composure through our dealings. Please pray for me as I venture into uncharted territory, for I know not what the future holds...
So where to start? Well, as they typically do, things began rather innocently. Out of a need to maintain a sense of normalcy and holding onto routine in the only way I knew, I joined a local **sigh** gym in the early part of last year. As events progressed and life unfolded, I started paying more and more frequent visits. First, it was the lure of the treadmill. Then, it was the bench press. And eventually, I even gave in to the, dare I say it, the kettle bells. Yes... I am, without a doubt, as disgusted as you surely also must be right now and no acceptable excuse legitimizes my despicable actions.
The hardest part of revealing this shameful habit is reminding myself of all the ways I have caused irreparable harm to so many people. The countless nights that I selfishly left barstools vacant, incalculable numbers of kegs untapped and cigarette packages unopened.. Oh god, the damage that I have caused! Will I ever be forgiven?
In my defense, this inclination originally struck me after I fell victim to an insidious scheme perpetuated by many so-called experts. I ignorantly believed doctors and exercise specialists as they spouted hair-brained theories; hackneyed dogma which said things such as how physical exercise promotes self-improvement and -satisfaction, when this shameful practice is, in reality, really only one performed out of arrogance and an unnaturally false conception of independence. Others told me that exercise would provide a relief from stress. Pfsssh!! I've never heard a belief organized around such an unproven and inadequately tested concept! They also duped me into believing that exercise would allow me to remain mentally stable and motivated. What insane notions!
To boot, my addiction to exercise hasn't been my sole vice during these trying times. There has been a more sinister, more pernicious demon lurking beneath my seemingly fanciful expressions and accepting eyes. I hate to admit it, but I'm a recovering norebanger. You may not be aware of this debilitating condition, so let me describe the practice and hopefully bring awareness to this oft-overlooked subject.
Norebang, or what some may slyly refer to as 노래방, was originally a victimless Korean pastime breaking from the traditional, conservative ways of Japanese-style karaoke. In the abundant 'singing room' establishments throughout the country, patrons are assigned to individual rooms for them and any number of guests, and given the minimum of an hour to make song selections, all while gleefully playing tambourines and drumming on any object in sight. The practice of norebang boasts modest beginnings - whose only purpose was to offer stressed Koreans an opportunity of amusement and expression.
However, norebang later adopted an evil side and has now led to a huge number of interrupted lives and fractured homes throughout the continent. This insidious monster has brought with it just enough comfort to gain entrance into people's hearts & minds, slowly destroyed the trust that it built, and left a trail of withered souls in its path. I advise everyone with whom I come into contact to never even consider 'trying' it out, for it is the quintessential wolf in sheep's clothing. And furthermore, anyone who asks you to give it a shot is not your friend and cannot be trusted.
Some might tell you that norebang is an excellent outlet for creativity. Don't believe them; and remember that you could just as easily take part in an alternate & less dehumanizing form of entertainment. These same people may attempt to mislead you by saying norebang affords you a chance to see friends in new & exciting settings (when any moron knows that you should easily remain content by just visiting people in the usual establishments). Other snake oil they might try to sell is that norebang provides momentary sensations of ecstasy - when it is essential to remember that however real these feelings might appear, they are artificial. You must simply become adept at creating happiness out of any routine, however tedious or boring it may seem.
Earlier, attention was drawn to the fact that I am indeed a recuperating norebanger, intending to someday reclaim a normal life for myself. Personally, American karaoke became a gateway activity that led to my ultimate downfall. Not many people know this: but in a former life, I was a contentedly ordinary guy. It wasn't until moving to Asia when I realized that I had a serious problem. After the chronic late nights and constant reminders of smelling to high heaven of microphones, I knew something had to be done. Friday, September 23rd was the last day that I partook, when I was met with an especially irritated vision in my dreams that night. The next morning, I posthaste enrolled in the local community center's NA (Norebangers Anonymous) chapter and began attending the weekly meetings.
I am pleased to announce that last week I was awarded the coveted Ruby Hiker's Pole, signifying completion of the 11th out of 12 stages in the program. Tonight, I will attempt the final stage of the program, whose goal is to reintroduce a sustainable form of norebang into a person's life. It will be a grand event where I hope to prove to myself and the world that I am able to cope with this struggle and maintain a sense of composure through our dealings. Please pray for me as I venture into uncharted territory, for I know not what the future holds...
Monday, November 21, 2011
Cultural Foundations and/or Manifestations
Recently, I've become particularly interested in attempting to identify behaviors and related actions for their true nature, considering why they are the way that they are, and wondering what might lead to the mentalities that contribute to the formed behaviors. Given my current residence, I've chosen to generalize South Korean culture through making it a target of this analysis. Specifically, the following are three aspects of this culture that have been of unique interest to me:
1) Testing as a way of life
I feel that this topic requires a bit of technicality, so pardon the statistics. But I believe that the figures help to clearly illuminate a point.
1) Testing as a way of life
I feel that this topic requires a bit of technicality, so pardon the statistics. But I believe that the figures help to clearly illuminate a point.
Thursday, Nov 10 for the country was this year's national CSAT (College Scholastic Ability Test) -ing Day for high school seniors and it was astonishing to watch the entire country turn out with tremendous uncompromising support for the students. This one day serves as the culmination of years of studying and sleepless nights, and the highest degree of relief for thousands of anxious parents. Every year on this single testing day, the stock market opening is delayed, transportation (not excluding air traffic) is re-routed and schedules are adjusted, even police escorts can be hailed by time-pressed test takers. And, to borrow a term, testers' friends tailgate before, throughout, and after the 8-hour testing period to cheer on their brothers and sisters in arms. The encouragement and collective solidarity is unquestionably amazing.
On a personal note, my current employer (등용문) is a CSAT preparation school, which means that its sole purpose of existence is to prepare students for this test. The annual student body consists of more than 600 post-high school students who mostly have already taken the test at least once, and so are referred to as retesters. Enrollment for the term occurs in December, students settle into the dormitories in mid-January, and classes commence a week later. The coed students then spend the following nearly 10 months digesting mathematics, science, Korean & English language, psychology, and a sprinkle of athletics. Finality of the semester is grandly celebrated with massive festivities and outpourings of emotion.
CNN put it best when they commented that "this one test...will determine which university [the students] enter. It is considered the chance to make or break one's future." I think this concept well shows the excellent notion that hard work and persistence can produce all of the benefits and advantages sought after. But there are of course significant downsides to years of sole focus on academics, identification that results of this one test are the only means of finding one's place in society, and the obvious inordinate stress that these pressures put on a teenager. Perhaps on an unrelated note, or maybe not, Korea experiences 100+ cases of adolescent and young adult suicide every year; and suicide has been named the leading cause of death for the Korean 15-24 age group.
Here's a funny video commentary on the daily life of a Korean student.
In an effort to quantify education beyond high school, I have turned to the 2011 OECD Education at a Glance report. According to the most recently available statistics in Table A3.3 (pg 70), the graduation rate for Korean tertiary type-A programmes (university/college) was 44.5%, well above the OECD average of 37.8%. Fantastic. The same report also points out some additional interesting figures on Table C5.1a (pg 373). Astoundingly, average annual hours worked per worker for Korea were 2,243, compared to an OECD average of only 1,710. This quite possibly has largely contributed to the South Korean economy's ranking (according to the IMF - International Monetary Fund - and the CIA World Factbook) as 12th in the world, in terms of purchasing power parity (PPP). But discouragingly, the same chart on page 373 also shows that in the Job-related non-formal continuing education category, the participation rate of Korean workers was a mere 11%, compared to an OECD average of 28%. Although I believe the term non-formal may pose a hangup to the Korean education system (where formality is the path to properness), this certain piece of data is nonetheless dramatic.
2) 빨리, 빨리!!
This repetitive and familiar phrase is pronounced bbahlli, and basically translates to the adverb part of speech meaning fast/quickly/rapidly. Other common and widely used phrases are:
- 빨리해: which literally means to do [something] quickly and conjugates the verb form of the word to suggest the imperative form of 'hurry up'.
- 빨리와: which advises the listener to immediately hurry over here. This verbal argument is also usually complemented by a waving gesture or an arm grab.
There are also many more pragmatic applications for the notion of bbahlli in a crowded country such as Korea and a hectic city such as Seoul. For many tasks and activities, if they aren't met with a sense of urgency, they will fail or an opportunity will be missed. Take precise bus and subway schedules and any deadline or time-sensitive task for instance where initial punctuality is a directly conditional event for any result to occur. Without this promptness, the entire system of precision is worthless. Therefore, the actions are necessary for the resulting effects and then, the resulting effects are essential for similar processes to repeat; otherwise, the entire order crumbles.
3) Military conscription
As per the country's established Conscription Law, all able-bodied Korean males are required to serve in either the ROK military for 21-26 months (depending on the branch) or satisfy a civil service requirement for 25-36 months. This reality and the volume of manpower it creates contributes to one of the largest standing armed forces in the world, with a reported personnel strength of more than 8.6 million troops in 2010, dwarfing countries such the US - who maintains slightly over 3 million.
The need for a mass of troops, and so a relevant mandatory conscription are obvious. Since the aftermath of World War II and especially throughout the 1950's, the peninsula has experienced constant tension which has created the never-ending obligation of readiness. The demilitarized zone (DMZ) alone requires constant manning by many of these 8.6 million troops.
Having also served in the military - with a fundamental culture all of its own, I feel that I am now in a unique informed position as an objective cultural observer. Simplistically, much of the time spent in the military can be reduced to the maxim hurry up and wait. Another commonly heard - and mirrored counterpart of the previous - phrase to describe military service is that it is composed of hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. Both of these ideas relate to the nature of intense preparation for the event of a future critical job, followed by subsequent long periods of vigilance.
As per the country's established Conscription Law, all able-bodied Korean males are required to serve in either the ROK military for 21-26 months (depending on the branch) or satisfy a civil service requirement for 25-36 months. This reality and the volume of manpower it creates contributes to one of the largest standing armed forces in the world, with a reported personnel strength of more than 8.6 million troops in 2010, dwarfing countries such the US - who maintains slightly over 3 million.
The need for a mass of troops, and so a relevant mandatory conscription are obvious. Since the aftermath of World War II and especially throughout the 1950's, the peninsula has experienced constant tension which has created the never-ending obligation of readiness. The demilitarized zone (DMZ) alone requires constant manning by many of these 8.6 million troops.
Having also served in the military - with a fundamental culture all of its own, I feel that I am now in a unique informed position as an objective cultural observer. Simplistically, much of the time spent in the military can be reduced to the maxim hurry up and wait. Another commonly heard - and mirrored counterpart of the previous - phrase to describe military service is that it is composed of hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. Both of these ideas relate to the nature of intense preparation for the event of a future critical job, followed by subsequent long periods of vigilance.
What might all of this mean?
Now, with these specific three examples, by what symbols might they be represented? Are they correlated or does one even lead to another? If so, which logically compel another/the others - and are we looking at maybe a chicken, a white egg, and a brown egg? Or should we consider these aspects as completely independent issues? Then, maybe they should more likely be a chicken, a kumquat, and a hammer..I imagine all these aspects of Korean culture to be interrelated somehow, seemingly all sharing some of the same qualities. Are not preparation/promptness/readiness all much the same concepts, or at least, originate in the same place(s) and able to realize similar desired benefits? As for correlation and causation, that topic still seems to be up in the air.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Introduction to the World of Competitive Eating
About a month ago, I was informed that Seoul would be hosting an amateur, confirmedly American-style gluttony festival (i.e., a 'competitive eating competition') hosted by the Korean corporation, NY Hot Dog & Coffee. Given my citizenship, proclivity to revel in overeating, and a lack of aversion to stomach pains, I was truly amazed that I'd never participated in one of these kinds of events. Guess that I'd never been presented with a comfortable place to publicly display food binging. Nothing could keep me from embracing this golden chance. Further, as if there was any need for additional encouragement, the presenting company would be offering prizes for the best eaters AND the event would be highly publicized afterwards. You're telling me there's a free lunch? And I'll be famous for it?! And I also might win stuff!?Well, I'll prematurely let the cat out of the bag, but I didn't win any TV sets or iPads. However, there was sooo much more to gain & let me share...
Preparing to stuff our faces with carcinogenic meat products:
One minute into the competition, I was still a bit hungry. That feeling would be nonexistent for the next 48 hours.
For another oddity, this company that hawks an unambiguously American cuisine (well, as close as possible), is Korean. Throughout my time abroad, I've constantly come across this US-centric phenomenon. This usually produces good results (case in point), but never ceases to feel unsettling each time a McDonald's moves into a new location.It appears that everywhere on this planet, one constantly sees similar examples of this: Turkish food in China, Malaysian clothing in Alaska, Hungarian kaleidoscopes in South Africa. So come to think of it, I guess that a New York sausage product in Korea isn't that odd. I reckon that almost anyone can get their hands (or mouths) on anything manufactured and promoted by other humans. Cheers to a smaller planet!
We are truly in the presence of greatness:
1st place finisher!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
A Tale of Heroism
This story begins with an extensive journey beginning with a Saturday afternoon search for Halloween costumes throughout the metropolis that is Seoul proper (the largest city in the OECD developed world). After all, my favorite holiday is only a few short weeks away, and I still have no idea of whom I should dress up. Considerations have been Gandhi, Jesus, or a 'Father' Teresa character. I'm still trying to pin down an idea, and will hopefully have something before this weekend. But I digress. The point being, I spent the better part of the day traveling around the city, scouring every costume and uniform shop that I can find.
I then meet up with a group of friends to attend the annual Seoul Fireworks Festival. The festival takes place on a small island in the middle of the Han river, in an area known as Yeoido. The location is not a convenient one, so it took a considerable length of time to finally get there. So after several hours of traveling, we eventually arrive at a large intersection which has been cordoned off for us spectators. Our longer than expected journey caused us to miss the beginning of the show, but our struggles proved worth the humungous hassle, as the firework displays were perhaps the finest ones I've ever witnessed. And to think that during the week I wasn't even convinced the show was worth seeing.
Here's a taste of what some spectators were able to see:
Seoul had been expecting a huge turnout for this show, which was well founded, as it seemed like the entire city was crammed onto this tiny island. Our group was crammed into an insignificant patch of real estate among the throng of humanity. We were standing on the edge of a sizable highway, behind a guardrail which prevented cars & us from falling over the steep edge, directly in front of the launch pad. To our backs was a large grassy hill, about 30 feet high, and on top of that was row of small apartment complexes. Most people were also standing in the street, but there was a small group sitting at the bottom of the hill & an even smaller group, likely the homeowners, watching the show from the roofs of the apartments. The small hill became gradually steeper as it ascended, with roughly a 50 degree incline at the top, near the buildings.
As we and the crowd were enjoying the display, suddenly a dull voice rang out. It was a man mumbling something, which everyone initially ignored. The noises continued for several moments, and the crowd's attention was eventually drawn to the shrill screams of a woman. At first, the rushed & frantic Korean language was completely indecipherable to us. But after a moment of continued yelling, we all picked up on an unmistakable repeated string of exclamations, 'Ah-gi! Ah-gi!', one vocabulary word I correctly recalled to be baby.
Apparently, a stray spark from one of the fireworks landed on the upper part of the hill, in a pile of debris & a large growth of weeds. The weather has been especially devoid of rain lately, which has contributed to dry plants and much dead plant material - creating many areas ripe for quick ignition. All of these factors came together in a perfect storm to form to a small, but rapidly growing, brush fire. To make things worse, the nearest apartment building had a wooden patio in the rear, hanging over the very place where the brush fire was quickly spreading.
In the moments as everyone became aware of the pending disaster, the crowd was silent & there was an air of disbelief. Just then, we were all horrified as the brush fire began to spread up one of the wooden posts, directly below what appeared to be a small plastic carrier of some sort. Perhaps it was indifference, but I am guessing that everyone was paralyzed by their fear & no one quite knew what to do. So, relying on years of volunteer fire fighting training & an uncanny lack of regard for my personal safety, I spring into action & do what no one else was able to do. I shove my way through the crowd, leap over a short fence at the bottom of the hill, and sprint up the hill towards the apartment buildings. Within seconds, my face can feel the heat of the blaze that is quickly beginning to engulf the rear corner of the porch.
Now standing underneath the overhanging patio, I can distinctly hear the screams of a distraught mother and the faint whispers of a young child. Realizing the urgency of the situation, I scan the area for a ladder or staircase. Of course, there is nothing, so I quickly grab onto the only unconsumed post and begin to shimmy myself up to the porch - a climb of about 5 meters, or roughly 15 feet. In less than 5 seconds, I reach the top and haul myself onto the floor of the porch. The nearly inaudible cries of the infant child are now echoing in my ears as I reach for the tiny basket. Then, with the treasure safely in my hands, I raise him up to the outstretched arms of his crying mother.
Finding an inability to climb above to safety, I then turn around to find myself surrounded by the blaze. Realizing that the fire has spread to the side of the porch from where I came, essentially cutting off my only option of getting back down, my only course of action for escape is to jump from my current position. Again, a significant drop existed between the porch and the hill below, which would create a scary sight for most people. But with time not being on my side, I do the only thing that I can, secure my footing to the ledge, and jump towards the only grassy area beneath.
In order to break a large fall such as this, one must roll to distribute the shock from such a sudden cessation of motion. The sole option was to land on the steep part of the hill, so the roll didn't stop exactly where I was planning. I tumble head over heels down this huge hill, with my momentum finally being arrested by the fence at the bottom of the slope. And in true Murphy's Law fashion, the full brunt of the impact is absorbed by my face.
With the adrenaline still surging through my body, I am feebly able to get back on my feet, only to collapse into unconsciousness. The remaining details were hazy, at best, but involved being taken to the hospital to repair my wounds. The following is the aftermath, but was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of saving the life of a precious toddler:
These were the details and the order of events as I recall them. Any eyewitnesses to the scene are kindly invited to add their remembrances of the story.
Thanks to everyone, especially the kind men and women of the Seoul Firefighters Association, who have been so kind as to nominate me for the 2011 Civilian Rescue Awards.
I then meet up with a group of friends to attend the annual Seoul Fireworks Festival. The festival takes place on a small island in the middle of the Han river, in an area known as Yeoido. The location is not a convenient one, so it took a considerable length of time to finally get there. So after several hours of traveling, we eventually arrive at a large intersection which has been cordoned off for us spectators. Our longer than expected journey caused us to miss the beginning of the show, but our struggles proved worth the humungous hassle, as the firework displays were perhaps the finest ones I've ever witnessed. And to think that during the week I wasn't even convinced the show was worth seeing.
Here's a taste of what some spectators were able to see:
Seoul had been expecting a huge turnout for this show, which was well founded, as it seemed like the entire city was crammed onto this tiny island. Our group was crammed into an insignificant patch of real estate among the throng of humanity. We were standing on the edge of a sizable highway, behind a guardrail which prevented cars & us from falling over the steep edge, directly in front of the launch pad. To our backs was a large grassy hill, about 30 feet high, and on top of that was row of small apartment complexes. Most people were also standing in the street, but there was a small group sitting at the bottom of the hill & an even smaller group, likely the homeowners, watching the show from the roofs of the apartments. The small hill became gradually steeper as it ascended, with roughly a 50 degree incline at the top, near the buildings.
As we and the crowd were enjoying the display, suddenly a dull voice rang out. It was a man mumbling something, which everyone initially ignored. The noises continued for several moments, and the crowd's attention was eventually drawn to the shrill screams of a woman. At first, the rushed & frantic Korean language was completely indecipherable to us. But after a moment of continued yelling, we all picked up on an unmistakable repeated string of exclamations, 'Ah-gi! Ah-gi!', one vocabulary word I correctly recalled to be baby.
Apparently, a stray spark from one of the fireworks landed on the upper part of the hill, in a pile of debris & a large growth of weeds. The weather has been especially devoid of rain lately, which has contributed to dry plants and much dead plant material - creating many areas ripe for quick ignition. All of these factors came together in a perfect storm to form to a small, but rapidly growing, brush fire. To make things worse, the nearest apartment building had a wooden patio in the rear, hanging over the very place where the brush fire was quickly spreading.
In the moments as everyone became aware of the pending disaster, the crowd was silent & there was an air of disbelief. Just then, we were all horrified as the brush fire began to spread up one of the wooden posts, directly below what appeared to be a small plastic carrier of some sort. Perhaps it was indifference, but I am guessing that everyone was paralyzed by their fear & no one quite knew what to do. So, relying on years of volunteer fire fighting training & an uncanny lack of regard for my personal safety, I spring into action & do what no one else was able to do. I shove my way through the crowd, leap over a short fence at the bottom of the hill, and sprint up the hill towards the apartment buildings. Within seconds, my face can feel the heat of the blaze that is quickly beginning to engulf the rear corner of the porch.
Now standing underneath the overhanging patio, I can distinctly hear the screams of a distraught mother and the faint whispers of a young child. Realizing the urgency of the situation, I scan the area for a ladder or staircase. Of course, there is nothing, so I quickly grab onto the only unconsumed post and begin to shimmy myself up to the porch - a climb of about 5 meters, or roughly 15 feet. In less than 5 seconds, I reach the top and haul myself onto the floor of the porch. The nearly inaudible cries of the infant child are now echoing in my ears as I reach for the tiny basket. Then, with the treasure safely in my hands, I raise him up to the outstretched arms of his crying mother.
Finding an inability to climb above to safety, I then turn around to find myself surrounded by the blaze. Realizing that the fire has spread to the side of the porch from where I came, essentially cutting off my only option of getting back down, my only course of action for escape is to jump from my current position. Again, a significant drop existed between the porch and the hill below, which would create a scary sight for most people. But with time not being on my side, I do the only thing that I can, secure my footing to the ledge, and jump towards the only grassy area beneath.
In order to break a large fall such as this, one must roll to distribute the shock from such a sudden cessation of motion. The sole option was to land on the steep part of the hill, so the roll didn't stop exactly where I was planning. I tumble head over heels down this huge hill, with my momentum finally being arrested by the fence at the bottom of the slope. And in true Murphy's Law fashion, the full brunt of the impact is absorbed by my face.
With the adrenaline still surging through my body, I am feebly able to get back on my feet, only to collapse into unconsciousness. The remaining details were hazy, at best, but involved being taken to the hospital to repair my wounds. The following is the aftermath, but was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of saving the life of a precious toddler:
These were the details and the order of events as I recall them. Any eyewitnesses to the scene are kindly invited to add their remembrances of the story.Thanks to everyone, especially the kind men and women of the Seoul Firefighters Association, who have been so kind as to nominate me for the 2011 Civilian Rescue Awards.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Unlikely Remembrances
Yesterday was my final day of employment after working for the preceding 7 months at the easiest, most comfortable, and most convenient office that I’ve yet experienced (nay, ever HEARD OF). It began as a typical Thursday morning, with the customary 3 hours spent studying email and researching Facebook. We then had lunch, followed by the (only one of the day, and) final class with this month's studious and perfectly well-mannered trifecta of clients. They brought us snacks and cupcakes, we spent the next hour playing our favorite vocabulary game, and they fawned over and reminded us what great teachers we were before they left. A generally spectacular income method.
Before close of business, along with my colleagues, I spent the afternoon packing boxes in preparation for the movers’ arrival the following morning. One after another, there became bare shelves and bottoms of drawers that I didn’t even know existed. We then went all throughout the office taping little pink sheets to all of the necessary items that we would need for our new location. Upon closing the doors, the space looked so clean and empty, as if not a soul had ever spent a day within those walls.
Over the course of the kilometer walk back to my fantastic apartment, which felt like the longest time this trip had ever taken, I started to wonder what I will miss most about this work location. Maybe the ability to roll out of bed 30 minutes before clocking in for work.. Maybe the immediate proximity to the restaurants and establishments that I’ve loved for the past year.. Maybe being able to walk home for lunch to raid my fridge’s free leftovers; all while listening to a perfect musical selection for that particular day, creating the leftovers for the next day, and getting all of the daily chores done..
Over the course of the kilometer walk back to my fantastic apartment, which felt like the longest time this trip had ever taken, I started to wonder what I will miss most about this work location. Maybe the ability to roll out of bed 30 minutes before clocking in for work.. Maybe the immediate proximity to the restaurants and establishments that I’ve loved for the past year.. Maybe being able to walk home for lunch to raid my fridge’s free leftovers; all while listening to a perfect musical selection for that particular day, creating the leftovers for the next day, and getting all of the daily chores done..
As I’m pondering the amazing life that I’ve been leading, a shadow shoves itself into the corner of my eye. Not surprisingly, it’s the regular gaggle of local mall employees that I see everyday, also leaving from their respective stores and kiosks. I hesitate for a second to let them pass, when at the end of the line, I experience yet another almost daily confrontation. It’s a man (who I have suitability begun calling ‘Kim Min Soo’), walking towards me in that distinctive unsteady gait. Originally, the path-crossings with Kim were merely annoyances, a 15-second waste of time that I was routinely forced to bear. Put in Western terms, Kim is just another irritating homeless drunk that reeks of soju and stale cigarettes. And if he were a fellow Westerner capable of speaking my language, I would probably despise him until the day I die due to his endless practice of pan handling. But he is not, and cannot. And so oddly, I do not. Consequently, since Kim is unable to ask me for my spare Won, all he can do is stare at me through his one good eye, put his hands above his head to form the shape of a heart, and flash me a toothless grin.
Mr. Kim’s been performing this strange behavior each time we’ve made eye contact for the past several months, which initially struck me as if he were searching for some universal nonverbal sign that he could display for me so that I would pity him & empty my pockets to fund his ethanol consumption habit (which is, by the way, literally what soju is). To which I mentally replied, “Hey Kim, how about a tip? Try getting a job, starting with cleaning that garbage you call a house.” So, needless to say, I’ve never shown him a penny. But he’s still continued to smile at me and sign his gigantic over-the-head heart, a service that I never once commissioned, or even acknowledged.
Obviously, I’ve given some thought to Mr. Kim lately, as he continues to confound me with each consecutive encounter. Possibly, he actually has been attempting to present me with some sort of kind gesture. Or maybe it really should confirm my original suspicions: that he’s just asking for money in the only way he knows how. But I’ve decided that his intention doesn’t even matter, and I’m best off by sticking with the former reasoning. So yesterday when Min Soo gave me the signal, I reached MY hands skyward, formed the heart-shaped gesture, and smiled back at him.
Here's an image of a much younger, cleaner version of Mr. Kim:
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Easter Weekend at Temple
The events of this past weekend surprised and impressed me on multiple levels. First, there was the irony of this southeastern-US, Bible-Belt raised, former regular Christian church goer American spending one of the most significant foundational religious holidays at a temple of another religion. (Looking back, I believe this was my first ever Easter Sunday that I failed to spend several morning hours parked in a church pew. In fact, even last year, I still spent the holiday at a Korean church, even when I couldn't understand more than two spoken words of the entire service!) And then, taking the quirk of fate one step further, was that I completely forgot it was the Christian holiday until the day prior to our departure.
Joined by a group of friends, we were all exceptionally interested in learning about monk-life, and seeing (or being reminded) of what this practice was all about. So we did our research and scoured through books, picked a suitable temple to visit, and made preparations to take a spring weekend retreat. The weekend's activities also reinforced my fondness for templestays. This was my third similar Korean weekend stay, although the first time without a massive foreigner-heavy gaggle. The other two weekends were definitely enjoyable and relaxing. But now equipped with the abilities of hindsight and comparison, the previous stays felt very commercial and tourist-y. This time around, I was very much looking forward to an 'authentic' temple experience where I would be a big exotic (?, at least, according to Koreans) fish out of the collective small pond - to borrow from, and in an attempt to combine, two cliches.
Last week, the excitement of our pending trip was also combined with a fundamental apprehension that our group of non-Korean speaking foreigners were potentially entering into a world devoid of our native tongues. So this risk motivated me to brush up on some essential phrases and questions (although, there was a 93.8% probability that I wouldn't even slightly understand the given response to any of these questions!). Fortunately, our group was met by several other English speakers who happened to be living at the temple, and we were also enthusiastically (although, possibly begrudgingly) helped by several fellow group members who willingly provided translation services for us the entire weekend. So all that language concern was unneccessary, other than to motivate us to increase our cultural understandings (which, I guess, is a good result in and of itself).
Overall, the weekend was tremendously relaxing and refreshing, and all of the required efforts to make it happen were greatly successful. Everyone had an enjoyable time, hopefully feels even vaguely more comfortable with this country and culture, is a little more confident in the art of travel, and we left with many nice souvenirs and memories of our stay. I, for one, definitely have a new respect and appreciation for monks and monkhood, because lemme tell you friends, they are professional relaxers, but they surely earn it. For an outsider, the act of slowing the mind and taking a breather is rather easy (nay, enjoyable) to do for a short weekend. But the fortitude of the monks that do this for a living, day after day, is amazing. Their daily schedule includes a morning alarm before 4AM; strict, disciplined regiments of hundreds of full-prostration bows; and days on end of meditating, eating, and sleeping in contorted body positions on hard, wooden floors. And then there's the whole Buddhist precept thing: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five_Precepts). Stronger people than me.
Anyway, Happy Easter!
Friday, March 4, 2011
A Traveler's Lesson: Relational Revolving Doors
I'll preface these next few entries by telling you that I've lately been in particular reflective and introspective moods. I feel to be changing as an explorer of this world so that my thoughts and outlooks sometimes don't even feel like my own, but that of a different person – sometimes even someone unknown and unrecognizable. Perhaps I'm gradually losing my mind by living for an extended time in a place where even going to the local Publix (wait, Lotte Mart) to say 'hello' (wait, '안녕하세요') and to buy a gallon (wait, liter) of milk (wait, 우유) might feel like an insurmountable challenge. Or maybe I'm getting a healthy dose of perspective through this traveling experience. Or maybe it’s just a result of general life experience (which is, in fact, the same thing when I'm concerned). Quite possibly, I'm actually becoming wiser through phase of life. People told me this would happen.
Installment #1 of Matt's Life Lessons ®:
With each Korean sunset, and subsequently as the length of my Matt the Expat status grows, I seem to be more frequently reminded of memorable (yet previously personally insignificant) nuggets of wisdom to which I've been exposed throughout this thing called life. And in turn, the meanings of these quotes, anecdotes, and memories are constantly becoming more pronounced and morphing. One such line and one of the most indelible that I've heard too many times to count over here is a common phrase shared between us Korean expats (and, I imagine, between expats in general) is that 'everyone comes with an expiration date'.
At first glance or turn of ear, this remark essentially, and quite succinctly, states the basic fact that 100% of fellow foreigners will eventually be gone from this place and your period of shared lives will come to an end. Pretty straightforward, right? But over time, the saying takes on a never-ending number of meanings, applications, and usages. And the beauty lies in the saying’s simplicity; it is an easily recallable analogy (e.g., comparing humans to perishable items). It might become a relationship warning (as in, 'you shouldn't get too attached to your newfound acquaintances, because you're bound to one day become unattached'). It can imply that each individual is predetermined with a date of expiry, as in their time stamp 'comes equipped' with the person even before their actual arrival. It could be a euphemism used for the purpose of describing the fleeting nature of expat-hood (watch for the preceding word in Webster's next year, and I want credit). It might become a personal warning (reminding the displaced person that he/she must create an exit strategy and decide on an end date for this dance, for fear that he/she will surely become 'forever lost in this foreign land', lest they forget these words of wisdom). And the list goes on...
Personal intrusion: I’ve arrived at my fifth month anniversary of my second year in Korea, and recently celebrated the end of my first semester teaching adult students. So after almost 17 months over here, I believe now is the appropriate time to start pondering the next chapter of my life (which I feel, in my case, is a natural and beneficial set of actions to take). My new place of employment is undoubtedly enjoyable and fulfilling for the time being, but I can't see myself doing this ESL thing for any longer than two years. I have accepted the fact that I could be a competent teacher/instructor, but I lack the skills (and honestly, the willpower to gain them!) to ever become great, or even fully commit to this line of work. So you have an idea of where I stand on the topic of discussion...
Meanwhile back at the ranch, the everyone to whom the saying evokes has also taken on endlessly more applications. Initially, everyone seemed to refer to a much smaller group of people. Everyone equaled only other fellow expats (and by the way, I wasn't yet included in that group either). Traveling is said to be fatal to small-mindedness (come to think of it, I could probably even write an entry about that saying, too!). Along these lines: now everyone has expanded into: foreigners (which is really all-inclusive); friends; students; staff members; co-workers; nice restaurant owners whom I meet once on a given Tuesday; annoying store clerks who don't provide adequate service but I can't properly disagree with them because we don't share a common language; etc.
Throughout this time abroad, I've made so many great friends and met even more people that I'll never forget (both positively and negatively). It seems to me that forcing yourself to live outside of your comfort zone and sharing this experience with so many other members of humanity hastens the relationship lifecycle. Perhaps through this experience, I am now able to more quickly, accurately, & easily see people’s true qualities, reflect on my past relationships and their results, and consequently become more adept at meaningful human bonding skills. But that's just a guess.
Product life cycle diagram, but you get the picture.
For an example (and likely what got this whole reflection ball rolling), remember my student John (who I introduced back in the February post)? Well, I regret to announce that he is one of these people who are no longer with us. (Hold on, don't jump to any conclusions - he hasn't died or anything extreme like that. He is just no longer my student). He's actually been gone for some time now, so not to worry, I've worked through the whole grieving process. His absence truly saddened me for a variety of reasons. So let me take a moment to describe the kind of person John was to me:
John embodied exactly what I wished and hoped for in a mature, adult student (a group which I have longingly wanted to direct my instruction). He was a perfect model for the kind of person whom I have always wanted as a recipient of my attempts at teaching. He's a dedicated and motivated young man who was astoundingly serious in his studies. He was always attentive, engaged, and participatory in classes. He was constantly challenging me and always made me feel like I was benefiting from our relationship much more than him. I saw several factors that led to his wonderful qualities. Namely, he was older and more mature than most of the other students in class. You see, South Korea maintains compulsory armed service for all its males, and John was the only student in the class who was old enough and had already fulfilled this requirement for his life. (Which served at least two purposes: developing his individual maturity and bringing the two of us together in a unique way that transcended our very different cultures.
I could go on and on with countless cases like this, but further description is unnecessary as they share all similar traits. Our lives are filled with intersecting paths. Some of these exchanges endure for years. Some are simply a brief glance or shared word. Some of them create joy, happiness, and even elation. Some cause strife, pain, and suffering. But all of these experiences are equally significant and capable of creating lasting impacts. And I believe these processes and their results are what make us human.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Beginnings of a Second Year in Korea
Hi. Shalom. Aloha. Hola. Hallo. Bonjour. Hafa Adai. 안녕하세요 ('an yeong ha say yo' - remember that from the first post last year?).
My new address is:
And, in an effort to showoff my Korean literacy, here is the same address written in Hangul:
First, meet Johnny:
Now, here's John:
And the new pad:
And, for my favorite comparison... Check out last year's bathroom:
And the one this year:
So basically, I'm extremely happy. I'm fulfilled with my new job, coworkers & staff, students, neighborhood, and this country! If things continue for me like they did this past year, I may never leave Asia. But all good things must come to an end, right? Or do they? I'm also sure that I'll get to a point where I miss home. But not quite yet! 
So I've decided that I love being an expat so much that I'm sticking around over here for another year of this ESL teaching deal. Life over here has been exactly what I forsaw and hoped that it would be. I learned so much last year from this experience of living abroad that I can't even fully explain it. So many great experiences had, people met, challenges faced and overcome, etc. I'll try to give you my Cliff Notes version of what is possible to learn while living among a completely different culture.
If you have a chance, read through (or even re-read) some of this blog to get an idea of my past year's experience over here. I've been doing a bit of reflection lately & even I'm amazed at some of the things that I saw, did, and went through during this past year. I met so many great new life-long friends; saw some unforgettable sights; ate both odd and delicious foods (which, I found, are not mutually exclusive things); learned so much about different cultures, languages, and customs; and basically lived a once-in-a-lifetime year. Although, there's definitely been constant hardships, too. When getting directions to a bathroom and ordering food at a restaurant are examples of daily struggles, it really helps put your life in perspective.
Professionally (and I'm taking quite a bit of liberty in using that word), I spent last year teaching children how to communicate in English. And, at times, it was tough (actually, in terms of work, it was always tough!). I had never been (and, frankly, had never even been slightly comfortable) around small humans. And that's precisely how I viewed them - as lesser human beings. Underdeveloped bodies. Underdeveloped motor skills. Underdeveloped brains. I'm sure that I was a horrible teacher for most of the year. Actually, I'm pretty sure that I still am. But now that I'm separated from these annoying sound- and snot-producing machines, I do appreciate all that they taught and did for me.
Needless to say, I had been looking for University teaching jobs for quite some time, but to no avail. So as of a month ago, I was making preparations for a Korean departure - either permanently, or possibly just as a short vacation back down to Southeast Asia, followed by a return to Korea in a continued search for meaningful work. But then during the final weeks, as I was starting to make travel plans, I landed some more interviews & finally had a tough decision to make between several options! I decided on my current job, teaching adults at an ESL pseudo community college. My first few weeks of classes have been amazing & the students are great! I'm living in one of my favorite areas - a place that I spent many weekends last year. It feels like I've moved from Paducah, Kentucky to Las Vegas. My new apartment is amazing. Moving was a chore (as it always is), but I had some great friends to alleviate the suffering with a helping hand.
My new address is:
276-1 Hanrasigma Park #419
Seohyeon-dong, Bundang-gu
Seongnam-si, Gyonggi-do
South Korea 463-824
And, in an effort to showoff my Korean literacy, here is the same address written in Hangul:
경기도 성넘시 분당구 서현동 276-1
한라시그마파크 #419
So, for those visual learners out there, here's a pictorial highlight show.
Here's the outside and lobby areas of my former apartment, and the corresponding pictures of my new place:
(Much improvement, huh?). And here's the change in my students and the actual inside of my apartment.
First, meet Johnny:
Now, here's John:Here's last year's apartment:
And the new pad:(Note: notice how last year's 'lobby area' looks oddly similar to the inside of the apartment? That's not an optical illusion.)
And, for my favorite comparison... Check out last year's bathroom:
And the one this year: So basically, I'm extremely happy. I'm fulfilled with my new job, coworkers & staff, students, neighborhood, and this country! If things continue for me like they did this past year, I may never leave Asia. But all good things must come to an end, right? Or do they? I'm also sure that I'll get to a point where I miss home. But not quite yet!
Until next time, I'll be watching you from my CCTV..
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