Holiday Joy

Quick update for all of you who are so very worried about the state of my health...

I HAVE HEAT! ^^

It decided to start working last night while I was asleep. Boy was I grateful, what with it being winter and all.

I also, apparently, have a Korean mother (of sorts). As I was preparing to leave my favorite porridge store after lunch today, the owner came over and gave me an umbrella. It was snowing and she noticed that I didn't have one.

So not to worry--I'm alright.

And So This Is Christmas

Ok, so I've been, admittedly, pretty bad at keeping up this whole blog-thing. I apologize. But I also have an excuse: the plague.

That's right, the scourge of the fourteenth century has once again made a reappearance in my life, and this time I can't blame it on the mosquitoes (they finally seem to have died out, thank God). I could maybe blame it on my land (slum) lady seeing as I STILL don't have heat...but whatever, I'll take the high road. This time.

So the plague came and is still lingering, but I managed to dispell most of it before Christmas. Which was pretty good, if I don't say so myself...

On the 24th we had Christmas parties all day at school, some were sanctioned by the administration, others not so much. But in my opinion they should never again organize a Christmas party, so whatever. The events THEY planned involved five and six year olds watching a play in which a witch abducts seven children and forces their mother to cut off her own feet before returning them. Our party involved soccer and relay races. Now who do you think the more qualified party-planners are? Ya, that's right.

After school all of the foreign teachers headed back to Caitlin's apartment where we all pitched in and made Christmas dinner. My contribution was, of course, my sparkling personality and the ability to eat more than all of the other teachers combined. Well that and washing the dishes, but who's keeping score?

It was a great night that can essentially be summarized in five words: food, wine, Konglish and belly dancing.

Christmas morning found the boys on a plane bound for Thailand and Caitlin and I opening the stockings (ie: stuffed rugby socks) that we had made for each other, along with all the gifts that Caitlin's family had sent over to her. We than had a lovely Western-style breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast and then headed into Seoul for our hotel stay.
The Grand Hyatt Seoul will forever remain near and dear to my heart. From the bathtub to the bed, the heat and the most amazing breakfast I've ever had, the Hyatt gave me everything I had ever dreamt of and more. Cue cheesy romantic tune now...




After we checked in to the hotel we headed into Itaewon to make a visit to the "Evil Pie Man"--a pastry chef from Maine who makes the most amazing pies. We each picked up a personal-sized pie (pumpkin for me, butter tart for Caitlin) which we promptly ate as soon as we made it back to the hotel.

On Friday we headed out to find Seoul Tower and, after about an hour aimlessly wondering around the forest looking for the trail that leads to the tower, we caught a cab and drove part of the way there. It was a good thing too, seeing as we had been going in the complete opposite direction of where we had needed to go. I could hear Andrea in my head the whole time: "Jacquie, you need to ORIENT the map. Orient the map, Jacquie". Sigh.

Anyway, we did make it to the tower and we even managed to find a spot on the fence for our locks. Tradition has it that if you and your significant other place your locks together on the fence surrounding Seoul Tower and throw the keys over the side of the mountain, then you'll be together forever. As much as Caitlin and I secretly hope to become crazy cat ladies together, we put our locks on the fence facing the Hyatt more for the sake of remembrance than anything else. That and the fact that we were feeling a little left out by all the cuddly smooching couples wearing matching outfits that were surrounding us. But whatever.



And now it's Saturday, December 27th. Christmas has come and gone and so has our stay at the nicest hotel in Seoul. I'm sitting in my apartment, sipping coffee with about five layers of clothing on, already missing the comfort of the hotel and contemplating heading to Caitlin's for the night to steal some of her heat. It was a nice Christmas, although unconventional. There were a lot of changes this year that took some getting used to. I'm thankful that I had Caitlin beside me and a family on the other end of the phone full of happiness and cheerful messages. I'm sorry that I didn't get to talk to everyone--I hope you all had a lovely holiday and thanks for all the well-wishes!

I promise that I'll update more often over the holidays--we have a week and a bit left before we have to go back to work and Caitlin and I are going to try and keep busy. We finally bought a few travel guides on India so a lot of our time will be spent planning the next trip! No doubt the anticipation is going to be what pulls us through to March!

Rose...er, Shiraz... Coloured Glasses

I had almost forgotten how beautiful the world can be when seen through a fresh lens... be it the eyes of a child or an amazing bottle of red wine with a great friend.

Oh the revelations one can make... after three hours at the Outback Steakhouse, no less...

Speaking of the Weather...

Talking about the weather is pretty much a sure bet. When you have nothing else to discuss, have no idea what you and the person you’re sitting next to have in common, there is always this common thread. I’ve met no small number of good friends over a casual conversation about the weather. So, when I realized that the quality of my blog was deteriorating and I needed something to write about, this seemed like a solid option.

We had our first cold snap and our first snowfall this past weekend, but I encourage you to take each statement with a grain of salt. It was around -7 during the cold snap, and the snow melted as soon as it touched the ground. But hey, the Koreans were all going on about it, so when in Rome...

Like in Ontario, the weather here is bipolar. With a touch of ADHD and a dash of OCD to top it all off. Hot, cold, sunny, raining, freezing, hot... you never know exactly what to expect. That being said, even when it’s been cold here, it’s still got nothing on winter back home. There’s very little snow and, while the wind chill can be bitterly cold (think Montreal wind tunnels in the middle of February...), it’s alright if you’re sheltered. I’m mentioning this because it hasn’t gotten so cold that I’ve had to turn my heat on. Yet.

Apparently this is a problem. At least for my landlady. Concerned that she hadn’t gotten a gas bill for my apartment yet, she called my principal to make sure that I wasn’t freezing to death and that I know how to work my heating. Or at least to ensure that someone was indeed living in apartment 103...

The reality of the situation? I had no idea how to turn my heating on, but that was just because I hadn’t been cold enough to explore the dark recesses beneath my kitchen sink where, logically, the heat controls are located. But it’s good to know that I have a landlady who cares. Even if she is more of a slumlord... lady?... than a landlady. Whatever. She cares.

Kodak moment for sure.

Anyway, I doubt I’ll be needing to turn the heat on anytime soon. It’s been averaging about 7 degrees for the past few days and I don’t think it’s going to drop substantially in the near future. And for the record, I’m rather enjoying the not-so-snowy-not-uber-freezing weather, although it is a little difficult to feel festive without snow.

That may change seeing as Caitlin and I just helped Alister decorate his Christmas tree; a celebration we marked with several bottles of wine, a little vodka and cranberry juice, and the always-festive Mama Mia and Madagascar 2. They may not be The Muppet Christmas Carol or Frosty the Snowman, but we have all been belting out the Abba for several days now... We’re also heading into Seoul this weekend to check out the Christmas lights and debate the merits of a white Christmas over those of a summer Christmas. Two Canadians and a Kiwi... I’m pretty sure we can all predict which argument will reign supreme...

Teaching as Colour by Number

Now there’s been a lot of really crappy stuff happening recently, so I thought that everyone could use a laugh and might appreciate this little beauty...

Nothing in life is ever black or white. In teaching, it's never gray either. There's a clear colour distinction in the field of education: pink and blue.

Sometimes these colours align nicely. Seeing as my students are five years old, the majority of my time is spent making sure that both the blues and the pinks don’t pick their noses (it’s a bonus if I can stop them eating it too), that they not hit each other and don’t go running out of my classroom whenever they feel like it. Oh, and making sure they don’t hop on the elevator on the way to the bathroom (our school is on the sixth floor... it’s Korea. Tiny country + large population = high rises for everything). Sometimes we even get actual school work done.

Because of the elevator issue, we do a lot of group trips to the bathroom. Obviously, there is a strong colour distinction in this area. Pink: they must not all go into one bathroom stall together, they must flush the toilets and wash their hands. Blue: they must wash their hands and attempt to aim. But that's just scraping the surface.

Being a girl, I didn’t know that “situations” often occur with little boys in bathrooms. But they do. Frequently. Trips to the blue bathroom often involve helping each other aim and even peeing on one another. Going to the bathroom might be a group activity for girls, but nothing like that ever happens on the pink side of life.

One of these “situations” occurred this past week. Three of my blues went into the bathroom and it wasn’t long before I heard yelling. As I stepped into the washroom to see what was happening, one of my students quickly ran into a bathroom stall and the other two were standing in the middle of the bathroom doing up their pants in tears. Through the sobs I managed to decipher “He saw our gochus, but we didn’t get to see his!” When I asked if that was really a big deal, I was met with renewed tears and a lot of head nodding.

After calming the boys down, confirming that “gochu” actually did mean penis and singing my way through group circle time, I informed my Korean teacher of the problem. She said she would talk to the boys. Assuming all was well with the world, I continued my day as planned.

The next day as I was teaching my class their phonics lesson my Korean teacher came rushing into the room, a little stressed out and obviously flustered. After a lot of gesturing I finally realized that she wanted to talk about penises, so I spent a solid five minutes teaching her the word “penis” in front of a classroom full of five year olds, before I learnt that the mother of the boy who had rushed into the bathroom stall was concerned about what had happened the day before. I assured her that I would keep an eye on all the boys and not allow them to go to the bathroom together.

Since that day it has been a struggle to keep them separated, keep their hands out of their pants, and keep other parts of their bodies in them. All three boys now feel the need to expose themselves on a regular basis. My pinks have no idea what to make of this situation. Now, being made of sugar and spice myself, I had no idea what to do with this situation, so I turned to the only solution I know: stickers. You now receive stickers in my class for staying fully clothed.

So really, it all worked out in the end. There is no more nudity in my class, my kids get more stickers and my pink Korean teacher and I have both expanded our blue vocabularies. The colours are, for a little while anyway, nicely aligned. Like a two-toned rainbow of sorts.

Irony

You know those times when things are really ironic? Truly ironic?

Like when you're living on one side of the world having earth-shattering epiphanies, like how much you like mornings, while life back at home is crashing down around everyone?

Ya, those times.

Progress

I woke up this morning and, as I gradually regained consciousness, I became aware of the perfection of the moment. I’ve always loved mornings—waking up slowly as the sounds and sensations of life outside my bedroom ease me back into reality. This morning the sunlight was soft and the sounds of the street were muffled but audible. I was nestled under the covers of a warm bed in a cold room, a juxtaposition that I have always found to be extraordinarily comforting.

Some of my most cherished memories take place in those five minutes between sleep and full consciousness; waking up and feeling as though the rest of the world has ceased to exist. In those brief minutes, all that matters is that moment in that place. It’s a time I treasure; a secret indulgence I am able to experience so infrequently. It’s an intimate moment for me, one in which I feel utterly content, fulfilled, assured and grounded.

As the sounds of the city become perceptible and I begin to recognize the small place I occupy as part of the greater whole, I wake up. The bleary-eyed sense of wonder is nothing but a memory, to be relived at a later time. But for those five magical minutes I know myself as an individual. I know myself as part of something bigger. I know myself.

While those waking moments are, for me, the epitome of this sense of self-understanding, I have also recently come to realize other moments that, while not as intense, give me a similar feeling. Being alone outside and smelling the grass, the beach or the frost. Sitting by myself and being completely absorbed by the majesty of a thunderstorm: the anticipation, the electric feeling that permeates the air before the storm breaks, the smell of the rain, the feeling of the wind and the moisture in the air, the sound of raindrops splashing on the surfaces around me and the crashing of thunder, and especially the dazzling spectacle of lightening darting across a darkened sky. Time spent in a place of historical importance, feeling a connection between the past and the present. Those moments with friends when you feel completely in sync with other people and you know that, in that exact moment, you are precisely where you should be; where you need to be.

A lot about Korea has been difficult, but I’ve also realized that coming here was the right decision for me. I have yet to become engrossed by the intensity of a building storm or feel a spiritual connection to those who lived in another time or place. However, I have experienced other things, seemingly insignificant moments that are later revealed to be secret, stolen pleasures, that help me to recognize who I am and what I need. Now I just have to decipher how to proceed; where to go from here.

Blog Neglect

Ok, so I know that I haven’t really been blogging much lately, but I’ve been in a bit of a funk and thought that it was probably better not to write from that deep, dimly-lit place. Hence the lack of posts.

However, I have somehow managed to crawl out of that funk (or was pulled out kicking and screaming... either way, I’m cool) and am back to my regular old chipper self. Ok, maybe I’m not that bright and shiny of a person all the time, but you get my drift. Everything’s hunky dorey.

Except for the fact that Kyle went home this weekend. Only for six weeks, but it’s going to be interesting without him here. Thankfully, Caitlin and I have managed to fill the void left by his absence with shopping, ice cream and various flavoured lattes. It’s a healthy way of coping, if I don’t say so myself.

In other news... we have four weeks left until we get seven glorious days off for Christmas! Everyone’s really looking forward to some much needed (and well deserved) R&R. Despite the best of intentions and a strong desire to chill on a beach for a whole week, Caitlin and I have opted to save a bit of cash and not join our fellow teachers in Thailand for this particular break. Instead we will amuse ourselves here in Seoul, possibly see the sights and indulge in a musical and a night in a hotel; a hotel with a bed that’s not made of stone and a bathtub. A real bathtub. It might not be all beaches and sunshine and Thai food, but it should be pretty great.

That being said, plans ARE in the works for a post-teaching in Korea, pre-returning to Canada trip. It’s going to be pretty epic... that’s all I’m saying for now, seeing as it’s still in the early stages of development and the itinerary is still open for adjustment. Ok, so there’s not really an itinerary yet, mainly just a list of places that might be cool to see. Like I said, early stages... I can feel the anticipation growing in you, my captive audience. Let’s leave it at that.

All in all, things remain the same:

Work continues to be both a challenge and an educational endeavour; every day I seem to learn something new about myself.

Despite the cooler weather that has finally found its way to Seoul, the mosquitoes continue to invade my personal space. There are 54 different kinds of mosquito in South Korea and I’m fairly certain that each species has taken up residence in my apartment.

The Korean Plague has also made a reappearance in my life, however I seem to have built up some kind of resistance to it as I don’t feel quite as much like death as I did during the last round.

I cherish my weekends—a little “me time” combined with time spent with some good new friends is enough to refresh and prepare me for another kick at the kindergarten can. Well, that and my Starbucks Holiday Blend. It would appear that good things come in small, golden packages.

So that’s me and my life in a nutshell... nothing earth-shattering. As of yet.

Caitlin and I doing Derek Zoolander proud in Insadong.

A Few Things I’ve Learnt About My Friends, Myself and Korea in General...

• A meal is not a meal unless there’s rice involved.

• It is possible that seaweed stuffed with rice, spam and processed cheese will a) be considered not only edible but also to be an entire meal and b) smell so bad that the teacher’s lounge suddenly becomes reminiscent of a post-game hockey locker room.

• Kyle can indeed fit himself into a washing machine.

• A Bodum coffee press can be the best investment ever.

• Biking double while intoxicated along a river is probably not a good idea.

• It is a particularly bad idea when Kyle happens to be the one peddling, and has contracted the Korean Plague, thus resulting in an inability to breathe and make it up the hills.

• The sale of beer in a movie theatre improves the movie-going experience exponentially.

• There’s a point in your life when a polygamous marriage begins to seem like a good idea. It’s all about finding a mix of people whose skills/ interests compliment one another.

• DVD bang? We seriously need to import these bad boys to Canada.

• You should never have to wait at a traffic light for more than three minutes. Seriously, traffic lights here are ridiculous.

• You can eat pizza three times a week without suffering from multi-system organ failure.

• Nobody likes pureed sweet potato on the aforementioned pizza. It's not a real topping. And we ARE talking three days a week here.

• Soju is definitely the way to go. Especially when you can buy it at the grocery store pre-mixed in juice boxes AND in 2 litre bottles.

• Sometimes you have to go to Korea to find a decent Mexican restaurant.

• All Korean women are direct descendants of Wonderwoman. You can say the same for me the day that I strap on a pair of stilettos and sling a baby on each of my hips while simultaneously walking down the street looking like a supermodel and chatting on my cell phone.

• Chocolate covered Kimchi? Not ok.
  

Commemoration and Cookies

November 11. This is a day when all Canadian history students stress out just a little bit. Remembrance Day. The one day that is completely devoted to the memory of those who died for a more noble cause.

I don’t do war. I don’t believe that in today’s world, blowing up our adversaries is a solution. Nothing could ever make me consider modern warfare to be a valiant, virtuous or gallant cause. I do however believe that there was a time when war when noble; a time when trained soldiers fought trained soldiers in hand to hand combat on a designated field of battle. When the military genius of great generals decided the outcome of wars that saw entire peoples and empires fall. From the ashes of this destruction rose new cultures whose influence on art, culture and language continues today.

At that time people did not hop in a plane and blow up entire towns and cities with bombs, or mow the enemy down with machine guns. It was a test of strength, determination and training.

Maybe I’m a hypocrite, but I see a difference in the purpose, and outcome, of warfare then and now.

Whether we are in agreement or not, the fact remains that people died defending their countries; died for a cause they believed to be greater than themselves. They perished because a series of events led them to be in a particular place at a monumental point in history. They died for, or perhaps because of, their religion, race or ethnicity. It is these people that I remember on November 11 of each year.

As students of history, we fear that this concept is drowning in the sands of time. We strive to uphold the memory and the spirit of all of those who came before, who lost their lives in armed conflict of every kind.

They don’t celebrate Remembrance Day in Korea. Obviously this didn’t surprise me at all seeing as it is, after all, a Canadian commemorative event. What did surprise me is that on this day, November 11, Koreans have a national observance all their own: Pepero Day.

Pepero Day in no way resembles Remembrance Day. The only thing I could compare it to is Valentine’s Day (which, in Korea, they have four versions of, if you include Pepero Day). On this day, couples give each other Pepero – long thin wafer-type cookies that are dipped in chocolate. Children also give them to their teachers, which means that as all of the Canadians at my school observed our moment of silence, the soft “crunch crunch” of Pepero being eaten was audible throughout the staff room.

So we honoured two events this year. We took our moment of silence, watched war movies and talked about our trips to France and the battlefields of the Second World War. All while snacking on Pepero given to us by our adoring, sugar-laden students.

The Best I've Ever Had

In Korea, that is. Short of the amazing Christmas latte I had at the Starbucks at the movie theatre the other day anyway.

Speaking of movies: go see Quantum of Solace. It may not be the best Bond movie ever made, but the opening scene is worth the cost of the ticket in and of itself.

Of course it won't be the same without the Korean subtitles and all, but you should still see it.

And buy a Bodum.

That's all I'm saying.

And the ESL Award Goes to....

So it's official. My language skills are deteriorating at break-neck speed.

It's a little ironic really: little-miss-grammatically-correct being unable to string together a basic sentence in her native language. A language whose usage she has been struggling, by means of term papers, essays and theses, to perfect for years.

This realization hit me like a ton of bricks the other day when I was teaching the school's highest language class during their journal period. One of the students' asked me what the past tense of the verb "to bring" was. I immediately responded with "brang".

As soon as it came out of my mouth, I knew something wasn’t right. Suddenly the word “brought” popped into my head. Don’t worry; I did correct my error. But the damage was done.

Soon I’m going to be using “there”, “their” and “they’re” incorrectly. Grievous errors previously punishable by death, in my books. And I call myself an educator.

There was a period when I thought that nothing could kill off brain cells like regular attendance at a Faculty of Education. I now stand corrected.

Tough Times

This post is for my family, reminding everyone that I am there in spirit if not in body. To my grandma I say "Just keep fighting" and for my aunt I'm posting a tribute to the horse by an unknown author. Hannah will be missed.

Love and hugs to everyone.

Horses

God gives us horses and compels some of us to love them. Yet why does the horse, an animal with such a big heart, live such a short life?

Perhaps it's because if our horses lived any longer, we wouldn't be able to bear losing them. Or, perhaps it's because God wants to jump.

Perhaps God looks down on the fine horses we raise and decides when it's His turn to ride. He gives us a few good years to care for and learn from them, but when the time is right, it's up to us to see them off gracefully.

OK, perhaps not gracefully. Blowing into a Kleenex is rarely graceful. But we can be grateful.

To have a horse in your life is a gift. In the matter of a few short years, a horse can teach a girl courage, if she chooses to grab mane and hang on for dear life. Even the smallest of ponies is mightier than the tallest of girls. To conquer the fear of falling off, having one's toes crushed, or being publicly humiliated at a horse show is an admirable feat for any child. For that, we can be grateful.

Horses teach us responsibility. Unlike a bicycle - or a computer - a horse needs regular care and most of it requires that you get dirty and smelly and up off the couch. Choosing to leave your cozy kitchen to break the crust of ice off the water buckets is to choose responsibility. When our horses dip their noses and drink heartily, we know we've made the right choice.

Learning to care for a horse is both an art and a science. Some are easy keepers, requiring little more than regular turn-out, a flake of hay, and a trough of clean water. Others will test you - you'll struggle to keep them from being too fat or too thin. You'll have their feet shod regularly only to find shoes gone missing. Some are so accident-prone you'll swear they're intentionally finding new ways to injure themselves.

If you weren't raised with horses, you can't know that they have unique personalities. You'd expect this from dogs, but horses? Indeed, there are clever horses, grumpy horses, and even horses with a sense of humour. Those prone to humour will test you by finding new ways to escape from the barn when you least expect it. I found one of ours on the front porch one morning, eating the cornstalks I'd carefully arranged as Halloween decorations.

Horses can be timid or brave, lazy or athletic, obstinate or willing. You will hit it off with some horses and others will elude you altogether. There are as many "types" of horses as there are people - which makes the whole partnership thing all the more interesting.

If you've never ridden a horse, you probably assume it's a simple thing you can learn in a weekend. You can, in fact, learn the basics on a Sunday - but to truly ride well takes a lifetime. Working with a living being is far more complex than turning a key in the ignition and putting the car in "drive."

In addition to listening to your instructor, your horse will have a few things to say to you as well. On a good day, he'll be happy to go along with the program and tolerate your mistakes; on a bad day, you'll swear he's trying to kill you. Perhaps he's naughty or perhaps he's fed up with how slowly you're learning his language. Regardless, the horse will have an opinion. He may choose to challenge you (which can ultimately make you a better rider) or he may carefully carry you over fences...if it suits him. It all depends on the partnership - and partnership is what it's all about.

If you face your fears, swallow your pride, and are willing to work at it, you'll learn lessons in courage, commitment, and compassion, in addition to basic survival skills. You'll discover just how hard you're willing to work toward a goal, how little you know, and how much you have to learn. And, while some people think the horse "does all the work", you'll be challenged physically as well as mentally. Your horse may humble you completely. Or, you may find that sitting on his back is the closest you'll get to heaven.

You can choose to intimidate your horse, but do you really want to? The results may come more quickly, but will your work ever be as graceful as that gained through trust? The best partners choose to listen, as well as to tell. When it works, we experience a sweet sense of accomplishment brought about by smarts, hard work, and mutual understanding between horse and rider. These are the days when you know with absolute certainty that your horse is enjoying his work.

If we make it to adulthood with horses still in our lives, most of us have to squeeze riding into our over saturated schedules; balancing our need for things equine with those of our households and employers. There is never enough time to ride, or to ride as well as we'd like. Hours in the barn are stolen pleasures.

If it is in your blood to love horses, you share your life with them. Our horses know our secrets; we braid our tears into their manes and whisper our hopes into their ears. A barn is a sanctuary in an unsettled world, a sheltered place where life's true priorities are clear: a warm place to sleep, someone who loves us, and the luxury of regular meals...Some of us need these reminders.

When you step back, it's not just about horses – it’s about love, life, and learning. On any given day, a friend is celebrating the birth of a foal, a blue ribbon, or recovery from an illness. That same day, there is also loss: a broken limb, a case of colic, or a decision to sustain a life or end it gently. As horse people, we share the accelerated life cycle of horses: the hurried rush of life, love, loss and death that caring for these animals brings us. When our partners pass, it is more than a moment of sorrow.

We mark our loss with words of gratitude for the ways our lives have been blessed. Our memories are of joy, awe, and wonder. Absolute union. We honour our horses for their brave hearts, courage, and willingness to give.

To those outside our circle, it must seem strange. To see us in our muddy boots, who would guess such poetry lives in our hearts? We celebrate our companions with praise worthy of heroes. Indeed, horses have the hearts of warriors and often carry us into and out of fields of battle.

Listen to stories of that once-in-a-lifetime horse; of journeys made and challenges met. The best of horses rise to the challenges we set before them, asking little in return.

Those who know them understand how fully a horse can hold a human heart. Together, we share the pain of sudden loss and the lingering taste of long-term illness. We shoulder the burden of deciding when or whether to end the life of a true companion.

In the end, we're not certain if God entrusts us to our horses or our horses to us. Does it matter? We're grateful God loaned us the horse in the first place. And so we pray:

''Dear God,
After You've enjoyed a bit of jumping, please give our fine horses the best of care. And, if it's not too much, might we have at least one more good gallop when we meet again?"

The Angel of Death

I got in trouble. Again.

No, this time it had nothing to do with giving the kids frowny faces, or taking their stickers away. This was way worse.

I wrote their names in red ink. All of them.

I know. I'm pretty much a terrible person.

Apparently you're not supposed to do that. Apparently I've just given all of my students a death sentence. Writing a name in red ink is an omen of death.

I have a feeling I'm going to be hearing from a lot of parents tomorrow morning.

Life in an Uncaffeinated World

It’s no surprise to anyone who’s known me for... five minutes... that I love coffee. Always have, always will. It’s pretty much an integral part of me by now, seeing as my caffeine addiction settled itself deep within my being long ago, with no intention of leaving. Ever.

So imagine my dismay when I arrive in Korea only to discover that the coffee here really is terrible. Don’t get me wrong, I do come across the occasional Starbucks or Coffee Bean. When such glorious moments arrive, I stumble into the coffee shop like a zombie, and emerge a person.

There is also a “New York Coffee and Bagel” right by my school, which serves decent coffee, albeit only in teeny-tiny-itsy-bitsy size. And it’s a little pricey.

The obvious way around my dilemma would be to make coffee at home. Ok, let’s see how that works out for me... I go to the grocery store, only to find that coffee comes in little pre-made packets. It’s instant coffee, sugar and powdered milk all rolled into one. So I’m thinking that this is probably going to be pretty gross, seeing as I’m spoiled and brew Starbucks back at home, but Julia assures me that it’s pretty good, so I give it a go. It’s not too bad, but definitely not good. And I drink them like water, especially on the weekends.

Cue the migraines. I get migraines for various reasons. Sometimes it’s the weather, often times it’s a lack of caffeine. I’m thinking this time it’s both, seeing as my instant coffees aren’t doing too much for me. Kyle suggests that perhaps it IS the instant coffees. He swears those things cause cancer, along with a host of other ailments and diseases. Now he’s forbidden me to drink them, and is determined to ensure that I get a coffee press. It won’t be Starbucks, but it’ll probably be better than what I’ve been drinking so far.

It’s official: in addition to my horses and my dog, I also miss my coffee maker.

Chut-tul

On Friday evening myself and ALL of my co-workers, from the principal to the cook and the cleaning lady, piled into the big purple school bus for a trip into Seoul. The special occasion? Our director’s child’s first birthday party. Not just any child; he’s the eldest son of an eldest son. Which means he’s pretty much a big deal. Koreans still very much believe that having a son is preferable to having a daughter, as it is the son who is expected to care for the parents in their old age. Don’t get me wrong, any parents I have seen with their children in this country dote equally on sons and daughters, but having a boy first definitely seems to take the pressure off.

The first birthday, Chut-tul, is a huge milestone in a Korean’s life. From what I could find out doing a little research, this has to do primarily with the high infant mortality rate of years long past. Obviously with modern medical developments infant mortality has been reduced significantly, however in the past if a child lived to see their first birthday their chances of surviving into adulthood were greatly improved. The first birthday was therefore a cause for great celebration. I have also read that there were/ are “shamanistic” reasons for celebrating this birthday, however I could not find exactly what they are. I’ve heard that most Koreans aren’t even sure anymore why some things are done, so perhaps that part is no longer of any real consequence. That being said, I am an archetypal green and am therefore determined to find out.

Apparently this is often also when the baby is given their English name. Elly hasn’t quite decided on a name for her baby yet, but she’s thinking Benjamin. Great name. That being said, I’ve often wondered why everyone in Korea chooses an English name anyway. Aren’t their family-given names sufficient?...

For now, I’ll focus on what I do know. The child’s parents throw a huge party to honour the Chut-tul. In this case, Elly and her husband rented out a nice restaurant and invited what seemed to be just about everyone they knew. They also fed all of us, which is part of the celebration. It is believed that sharing food, especially fruit, rice and rice cakes, will ensure that the child will have a long life. There was so much food! I, of course, was in heaven. There was Korean food and Western food and just about everything in between.

Another important aspect of the Chut-tul is the Toljabee. During the Toljabee the child predicts their future by selecting items from a pile placed before them. The child is dressed in traditional Hanbok (in this case it was pastel pink, green and purple; he was so cute, I wish I would have gotten a picture!) and placed on a table, where everyone can see him/ her. Then various items are placed in front the child and he is let go to pick a few of them. If the child picks money or rice they will be wealthy. String? They will have a long life. A pencil? They will become a scholar. Microphone? You got it, entertainer. Little possibly-Benjamin chose money first, followed by a pencil. His future’s lookin’ good. J

Aside from the Toljabee, I found the gift giving aspect to be the most interesting part of the Chut-tul. Instead of giving toys or clothing, guests buy the child a gold ring. These rings are not intended to be worn by the baby, but rather to be used by the parents to pay for important aspects of the child’s future, such as his/ her education. Doesn’t that just sound so logical? Instead of buying 50 million toys that the baby doesn’t need and will probably only play with for a week, invest in their future! All the staff at our school got together to buy possibly-Benjamin a ring, which I forgot to take a picture of, of course.

It’s too bad I didn’t have a Chut-tul. Perhaps I would have picked up something that could be used as a memory aid.

On Monday I spoke with a few of my elementary (ie: older students) about their Chut-tul. Most of them told me that they chose either money or a pencil. I love talking to my kids about stiff like this, because they’re always so shocked when I tell them that we don’t have those types of things in Canada/ the US. The thing they still can’t get over? How Westerners perceive age. In Korea, when I child is born, he/ she is one year old. This means that at their first birthday they are actually turning two. The kids just couldn’t believe that in Canada I’m 25, but in Korea I’m 26.

Go figure. I move to another country and instantaneously add a year to my life.

Missin' You

Alright... So I've been a little hesitant to publish this post for fear that some people may get offended, but I just can't wait any more!

I have recently come to realize that I miss some people from home. These people, however, are of the four-legged variety. No offense to my fellow Homo Sapien Sapiens, but I can contact you whenever I like and we can chat via telephone and Skype. All I have to go on with my animal friends is their pictures, so I decided to post a few on here.

Who do I miss the most? (In no particular order, of course...)

Beret aka Boo aka Brat Face

T'Jean aka Weenie

Baby Diva

Brat and Weenie having a bonding moment

Debbie Downer

After re-reading my post from Friday, I realized that it kind of sounded like I’d taken one too many downers and was in need of a serious, uplifting kick in the you-know-what. On the contrary! I’m loving the time I’ve spent here and know that I will continue to do so. (Ok, so work’s a bit rough but whatever. The kids are cute and the staff are awesome). In order to convince everyone that I’m not at risk of spontaneously showing up in Toronto, or Townsville for that matter, I thought I’d give you an idea of how my weekend unfolded.

Saturday began with a little World of Warcraft, which is, of course, the only way to guarantee a great day. It’s been scientifically proven. At eleven I met up with Caitlin (I’ve recently realized that I’ve been spelling her name incorrectly, so from here on in the spelling will change) only to discover that her wallet has gone M.I.A. After a bit of drama with no success, she resigned herself to being wallet-less and we met Alistair (another work friend, this one’s a kiwi) and grabbed a bus into Seoul. On this day I was to have my first Itaewon experience.

Itaewon is where the American military base is located and is therefore the place to go if you want Western food or need to find a service in English. Our specific purpose on this particular trip was to book our tickets to Thailand for Christmas break. YAY!

The unavoidable motion sickness that I experienced on the bus was quickly combated with what was possibly the best curry I have ever eaten. No jokes, this rivals Wagamama. If I’m making claims like that, you know I’m talking business. Delicious Thai food (half of which inevitably ended up on my shirt) was followed by a delicious trip to the travel agent.

Koreans use the word “delicious” to describe just about everything so yes, the trip was delicious.

Carrying on... On December 24^th at 9 pm Alistair, Caitlin, Scott (another work friend) and I will be aboard a Thai Airways flight to Bangkok, after which we will spend nine glorious days relaxing on the beach and celebrating the lunar New Year. I know, we’re pretty much rock stars.

Alistair had business to attend to back in Bundang so after we’d found our tickets Caitlin and I decided to wonder around Myung Dong and do some window shopping. Or real shopping in Caitlin’s case. Mum, you would be proud of Caitlin’s shoe fetish; you two could do some serious bonding over footwear.

Once six rolled around we grabbed a coffee and a green tea latte and met up with Kyle and his girlfriend Ji, and Caitlin’s friend Rachel. We had plans to celebrate Oktoberfest, Korea-style. Seeing as Oktoberfest doesn’t exist here, it was a bit of a stretch, but to summarize it involved a German restaurant, a large cheese tray, numerous shots of Jagermeister, copious amounts of sausage and beer, and a trip to Hooker Hill.

Hooker Hill is, well, where the hookers are. There are also a few cool bars/ clubs there so we headed to one called Polly’s something-or-other. The name’s not important. What is important are the 2 litre pop bottles we each got that were filled with soju and a Kool-Aid-like substance. Holy ridiculous.

They played some decent music, so Caitlin and I got our groove on, even joining in on the line dances that seem to be so popular here. If you ever want to see people line dancing to hiphop, come to Seoul.

Needless to say, the rest of the night was a bit of a gong show, but we managed to catch a bus back home and I was in bed by 3:30.

Sunday was spent lazing around my apartment, enjoying bread and watching the Tudors. By six pm everyone was feeling a little less like death so we decided to grab dinner and a movie. Dinner was great—I’ve found the ultimate hangover food. Donkass (basically pork schnitzel) in ramen. Ya, that’s right. IN ramen. Deep fried, spicy deliciousness. There’s that word again.

We headed over to the DVD bang (a place where you can rent a movie and a mini theatre for $16, super cool idea that we need to get going in Canada) and Kyle picked the movie, “Wolf Creek”. Assuming it was going to be an entertaining werewolf movie, we settled in with our sour gummy worms. It ended up being what is quite possibly the worst movie ever made. Do not, under any circumstances, rent/ buy/ watch this movie. That would be generating revenue, thereby encouraging “them” to make more films like it. We had a good time making fun of the film as we were watching, and had a good laugh on the way home discussing just how terrible it really was. I got home, read a little (Guns, Germs and Steel, in case anyone’s wondering) and went to bed.

Solid weekend.

Smoke and Mirrors

Now that I’ve been here for a month, I figure that I should get on with the reflecting, as opposed to taking everyone step-by-step through what I’ve been doing with my weekends, and the serious cultural faux pas I have been committing. Anyone who was there with me as I blundered through teacher’s college would understand exactly why I’ve been avoiding this. After drowning in professional and personal reflections for a year, I got to know myself (or bullshit about how I’ve gotten to know myself) more than I ever thought necessary. That being said, I did make this move with a purpose, so I suppose that I should be keeping everyone up to date on how that’s working out for me...

Although several factors played on my decision to come here, there was one reason that obviously stood above all others: to force myself outside of my comfort zone and to find my own way, as opposed to cowering behind others and following their lead. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some wonderful deflectors in the form of numerous friends. I’ve also lead the group on more than one occasion. I’ve just never been in the lead only to turn around and realize that no one is following. It was time.

I’m not saying that I haven’t had help while I’ve been here; obviously Julia and Kyle have been lifesavers. That being said, for the most part I’m on my own, and already I’m starting to notice the effects.

During this month, short period though it’s been, I have done a significant amount of thinking. That tends to happen when you’re stuck in a bed during the majority of your free time (for the record, the plague seems to be subsiding. Yay me!). This is what I’ve come up with...

When I left, I was having trouble finding a job that felt right. No matter where I looked or thought about working back home, something wasn’t clicking. I knew that if I took a position with one of the many boards that I was contemplating, I would continue to feel unfulfilled. In retrospect I think that that occurred for several different reasons, the ultimate culmination of which is:

I’m not sure how I felt about finally having to begin a career, particularly one involving so much responsibility. I know that everyone talks about how easy my chosen profession is, how short the hours are. The thing that people miss is that it’s not about simply getting through the curriculum. It’s about knowing that each student in your class fully understands the material and its connection to their lives. It’s about ensuring that each and every student feels validated and heard. Most of all, it’s about helping them figure out who they are and where they fit into this world. Add on to that the desire to share your passion with them, the desire that each and every one of them leaves your classroom understanding why you love your subject, and why you do what you do... well, that results in a hell of a lot of pressure. Plus, if we’re being realistic here we need to incorporate the fact that most of them will never see where you’re coming from and a number of them, for various reasons, don’t even want to be in your classroom. It’s a job that involves a high level of dedication, both professionally and personally. There is a high turnover rate, due primarily to burnout, in the teaching profession. I knew that once I started, I would be consumed by it. Anyone who knows me realizes that although I can be the most indecisive person on the face of the planet, once I decide to do something, I do it. And I refuse to be second best. Perhaps I was unwilling to give up that much of myself, to take that kind of a risk. Ultimately, I wasn’t sure that I was ready.

I thought that by coming here I would be able to learn a little more about myself and what I truly want to accomplish, personally and professionally. I would be able to experience teaching a new subject in a different setting with a new age group, thus narrowing my choices at home. I hoped that, by being removed from the reality of my every day existence, I would be able to distinguish what is important to me, thereby allowing myself to cut out all of the unnecessary baggage that was dragging me down, at times suffocating me.

All this while trying to pay down my student loan. What can I say? I’m ambitious.

By no means have I sorted all of this out in a mere month, however I can honestly say that I am well on my way. The small things have been addressed. I know that elementary students are beyond me. I know that I enjoy ESL, but don’t want to specialize in it. I am still leaning heavily towards teaching at an independent school back in Canada, but after having been here, where private schools abound, I have realized that, even in Ontario, a private school does not necessarily mean a good school. I have therefore resolved to do a significant amount of research before taking a position at such an institution upon my return. I would rather work in a public school for a few years and later find a position at a private school that I respect and where I am well suited than work for the rest of my life in a subpar institution. All of this has been confirmed in a mere 30 days.

Also confirmed is the fact that, for me, travel is better done without actually living and working in the country that I’m visiting. I’ve believed this for a while, but always assumed that I felt this way because I was too much of a chicken to actually make the move. Now that I’ve done it, I realize that isn’t the case at all. As a resident and an employee, it’s so easy to get caught up in the daily grind. I prefer the excitement of a busy vacation filled with daily exploration and long walks through historically significant places. Call me a geek, but that’s where my heart is. I do believe there will be many a trip to the great temples and palaces of the world in the summers of my future.

Ultimately, I’ve come to realize that life is life no matter where you are. Although it was exciting initially, and I have met many new friends, the daily grind continues. I get up and go to work. I make dinner and go grocery shopping. The mundane aspects of life seem to have followed me to the Land of the Morning Calm.

As for the bigger issues, I’m making headway. Time and thought are still required to work those puzzles out.

What does all of this mean for me? I’m more secure in who I am and what I want in life, although I don’t claim to have all of the answers. What does this mean for Korea? I’m not entirely sure. Right now I feel like I need to go home in time to find a job for September, which essentially means that I will have to be back in Ontario for the beginning of May. That being said, it is still early, and I still have a lot to see and do. A lot to... reflect on.

Good Old Snail Mail

Alright, so I've finally realized how people can reach me, seeing as I have no idea what my address is. Apparently that's normal, and I'm not a complete idiot. Solution? Send it to my school! Today I discovered that everyone does this, seeing as today everyone got mail except for me :( So here it is...

Eco Plaza 6F
1188-4
Jook Jeon Dong
Young-In City
Soojee-Goo
GyungGi Do
Korea

Helpful hint: it takes regular mail forever to get here (Caitlyn got a package today that was sent by a friend in August...) so if you are going to send me something (I love letters!!!!) you should consider sending it airmail, provided it's not too expensive.

xxoo

Photo Journal

Seeing as it's been a whole week, I feel obligated to post something but am at bit of a loss for words (shocking, I know). To those of you who creep me regularly on Facebook, you will already have seen these. For those of you who don't, I'm shocked. You can't actually tell me that you have better things to do with your life. I know you better than that. :P

Enjoy!

This is my homeroom class, minus two. Yes I know. They're really cute.

American, eh?

The other night Kyle and Caitlyn took me out for galbi. Galbi is basically real Korean barbeque. Before I tell you about my night, I first have to explain the process of dining in Korea.

It’s actually really cool. You walk into the restaurant, take off your shoes and sit on cushions on the floor. Once you order, your waitress/ waiter brings you about ten different side dishes, one of which is inevitably kimchi (pickled cabbage in a spicy red sauce). They’re all about communal dining here, which is awesome, because it saves you money and you get to try many dishes, in addition to the ten or more side dishes. Granted, it may also be how I contracted the Korean plague (see last post).

Back to the galbi.

Seeing as it was my first galbi experience, they opted to take me for beef galbi. It also comes in pork. Pork is the most common meat here, with beef and chicken being more expensive. So I was getting the good stuff.

We get to the restaurant, take off our shoes, sit on our cushions and order our galbi. And our soju (liquor). And our mekju (beer). Well, Kyle does, seeing as he can do it in Korean. It is then that the side dishes begin to make an appearance. There’s kimchi and soup, corn and salad, this crazy scrambled egg dish (which Caitlyn loves) and several other yummy additions to our meal. And then they bring out crab in a deliciously spicy-looking sauce. Kyle and Caitlyn stare at it in amazement. Apparently this is a new thing. “We must be at one high class galbi place,” someone states. We don’t have much more opportunity to stare at the crab, as it is then that the waitress brings out the galbi. Which is raw beef.

Let me add that in a galbi restaurant, there’s a grill built into your table. I have the Korean plague, not Korean e.coli.

So we’re cooking our galbi and eating our side dishes when Kyle and Caitlyn decide to try the crab. They each pick one up with their chopsticks and Kyle bites in, murmuring “hmmm, softshell” as he’s doing it. Immediately, Caitlyn follows suit. Kyle swallows. Caitlyn swallows. “I think it’s raw,” says Kyle. “Definitely,” replies Caitlyn. Each puts down the remainder of their crab. “I don’t think you’re supposed to eat raw crab. We’re probably going to die.” Kyle suggests trying to kill any possible bacteria by drowning it in soju. It seems like a good idea. I join in.

At this point, I’m laughing pretty hard, secretly gleeful that I’m not into soft shell anything and therefore did not partake in the eating of raw crab. So gleeful, in fact, that as I wonder why I’m having so much trouble grabbing the galbi with my chopsticks (a skill I have recently mastered and been gloating about for days) I look down only to realize that I’m holding them upside down. Out comes the nice waitress with a fork. So much for gloating.

At the same time, the owner has noticed that Caitlyn has put some onions directly on the grill. This, apparently, is a huge “faux pas”, as he quickly gets us a little dish and proceeds to put all of our onions back into it.

Now Kyle starts to laugh, and flail a little (I’m guessing from the soju...) and he knocks the entire bowl of salad off of the table. Along comes the nice waitress to tidy it up. Thankfully, by this point in time, we’re about ready to leave. We pay our bill and, as we leave the restaurant, I proudly state, “Wow! I just can’t wait to get back to New York!”

The Korean Plague

Ok, so it’s not actually the plague. It’s not like I’m walking around covered in buboes or anything. Although to hear me cough, you might think that I should be.

I’ve been sick pretty much since I got here. It started with a runny nose and a head cold. Then progressed to a sore throat. Most recently it’s been a nasty respiratory condition. Similar to the plague. But without the rats and the fleas and the buboes. Or the threat of scurvy or cholera or something. You get the point. I haven’t somehow been transported back to the mid-fourteenth century. I’m just sick.

Apparently it’s quite common to get really, really sick when you first arrive here. Something about Asian “super bugs” and the generally poor air quality of Seoul and the surrounding areas. According to my co-workers, for 10, 000 won I can go to the doctor down the street from the school and get an injection that will have me feeling like Mary Poppins within the hour. I keep telling them that I prefer to build up my immunity naturally. My reluctance has nothing to do with the thought of getting a rather large needle filled with an unknown substance stuck into my ass cheek and subsequently injected into my body. Nor has it anything to do with the fact that that substance may contain penicillin, to which I am allergic, and for which I do not know the Korean word, thereby limiting my ability to inform said doctor of the aforementioned allergy. Natural is the way to go.

Thanks to my plague-that-is-not-the-plague I have had to back out of a hiking trip I was going to go on this weekend with Kyle and a bunch of other people, in favour of bed rest and orange juice. It’s my only holiday until Christmas and I get to spend it with the casts of Flight of the Conchords and Coupling. And the omnipresent mosquitoes that have taken up residence in my apartment. Maybe they have something to do with it. Korean malaria, anyone?

Jacquie Does Kongnam

Thursday night found me in Kongnam, sandwiched between Kyle and Caitlyn (uber-cool coworker, archaeologist and traveller extraordinaire... plus fellow Canadian... straight from Peterborough.) and basking in the neon glow of the excessively lit streets that permeate this country. It’s like Times Square on acid, everywhere.

Anyway, I think they were feeling a bit sorry for me, seeing as that day I’d been shipped out to the hospital for my obligatory drug and STD testing, for which I had to starve myself for eight hours (anyone who knows me knows what a huge deal THAT is), have blood drawn and pee in a plastic cup. They were feeling sorry for me, and therefore decided to show me Kongnam.

This place is pretty much ridiculous.

After shopping for a while, they took me to this tea house where we shared smoothies and gelato, and I had my first Dr. Fish experience. Dr Fish is a very interesting concept. You sit on cushions with your feet in, well, in a fish tank. For fifteen minutes these teeny tiny little fish swim around your feet eating all the dead skin off. It tickles like you wouldn’t believe, gives you the heebie-jeebies and leaves your feet feeling pedicure-fresh!

Once our feet had been beautified by our little friends, I was taken to Rainbow, this cool hooka bar/ lounge. It’s a traditional type of place where you take off your shoes at the door and sit on cushions on the floor. Traditional in a Korean sense, but with a crazy Bob Marley vibe. Kyle swears that’s what Thailand feels like, only outside. I can’t argue with him, having never been there. But if that is the case, then you can sign me up. It’s the type place I could spend many an evening in!

We made a relatively early night of it, seeing as we had to wrangle five year olds the next morning. Deciding that a bus would be our fastest option home, we found one going in our general direction and hopped on. This was also my first Korean bus experience, and let me tell you! Korea has public transit figured out! City buses here are like Greyhound buses back home. If public transportation in K-W was anything like Seoul, you might almost be able to convince me to use it ;)

A Little Seoul

My first weekend in Seoul was an interesting experience, with ups and downs, highs and lows. The lows primarily consisting of my catching a brutal cold and spending my Sunday with Julia dragging me around trying to find appropriate cold medication. Which was greatly appreciated—thanks darling. :)

Thankfully, the ups far outweighed the downs.

Saturday Julia met me in Bundang so that we could visit her friend Juni who’s in a hospital here. As it turns out, he only has to sleep in the hospital. Despite having a broken back. Seriously. He met us at a restaurant with another one of Julia’s friends, Matt, where we proceeded to drink the biggest pitcher of beer (mixed with soju, of course) that I have ever seen. And to eat what look like dried minnows. Well, they’re definitely some kind of little mini dried fish, but I’m not sure exactly what. Minnows is that best I can come up with. Either way, it’s an appetizer of sorts, and I ate it. Definitely. I even have proof!

We then went back to Julia’s place, where I got to meet a bunch of her friends, and some of her friend/ colleague’s (Ashley) friends as well. It was a great party, with a ton of expats from all over the world. Eventually we took the party to Hongdae, a sort of clubbing district in Seoul. There I was introduced to the one and only robot bar “Vinyl”, where you get your drinks in a Ziploc baggy that you take away; the Rocky Mountain Bar, where I played endless games of drunken darts, without ever actually winning a single game, and finished the night off getting our groove on to the sweet sounds of Cyndi Lauper at the 80’s Bar. Ok, so that wasn’t ACTUALLY the end. The end was the delicious Dok-Poke-Ee (think noodles of a sort in a spicy red sauce that you buy from street vendors and eat with a toothpick. It’s basically Korean drunk food...) and a drunken cab ride back to Julia’s luxury long term stay hotel.


Then I woke up at seven, which is a god forsaken time to wake up when you went to bed at four. Not to mention, when I woke up, I was sick. Really sick. Nose running, sore throat, coughing sick. Which means that I also woke Julia up at seven. She insisted she didn’t mind, but everyone minds getting woken up after only three hours of sleep. However, she was a great sport, and I will be forever grateful.

She then set off a on a mission: to find me Kleenex, before I ran out of toilet paper, and something to help with the...nastiness... all while showing me around Insadong.
Insadong is this really cool market-type place. They have a little bit of everything Korean, and you can bet that, if you’re lucky enough to receive gifts from me when I get home, they most likely will have come from this place.

After shopping for a while (without finding cold meds... it just so happens that drug stores and hospitals are closed on Sundays here...) we decided to hang out in this cool little park while we waited for Ashley and Steven (American expat) to meet us for lunch. There’s a really cool pagoda in the middle of the park, and while we were sitting there this really sweet Korean man starting chatting to us. He was probably about 75, missing most of his teeth, and tickled pink that he got to talk to a couple of Western girls and practice his English. In fact, that happens a lot here. People are really excited to speak English, so you start having the most random conversations with the most unlikely people in the most interesting places!

Anyway, we spoke to this man about the American presence in South Korea, and about interracial dating and marriage. Solid, intellectual discussion. And then he dropped the bombshell. “You look like Grace Kelley,” he told me. Despite being sick, carrying around a roll of toilet paper and blowing my nose constantly, this man compared me to one of the most beautiful, elegant women to ever grace the silver screen (and the throne of Monaco). I don’t care if he was lying through his non-existent teeth: that man will forever be one of my favourite people.


Following our lovely chat chit (a little D.C. for a few of you there), we met up with Ashley and Steven for the most amazing vegetarian meal I have ever experienced. Ever. And I’ve eaten a lot of good vegetarian food in my day. I won’t say more about it—if you want more info, you’ll have to come visit. Ya, that’s right. I’m willing to resort to bribery.

Upon completion of our delicious meal, Ashley and Julia promptly put me on the subway headed straight to Ori Station with explicit instructions to go to bed. I, of course, obeyed submissively. Despite an hour and a half ride home, I was in bed by seven.

The Stuff of Legend

Kyle and I went shopping the other day and decided to buy some wine. Which you buy in the grocery store. Along with 2 litre bottles of soju. More on that to come... Upon reading the label on a bottle of Slim wine, we decided we had to have it. This was the selling point:

“Black Raspberry is a legendary fruit down the Earth allowing the secret scent of ancient time in oriental society. Black Raspberry Wine, Bohae Slim will deliver an exceptional experience of the legend.”

I’m always up for an exceptional experience of the legend!

My Life in Korea, Thus Far

Although I haven’t actually been here that long, and haven’t seen much of my dong (neighbourhood) other than that immediately surrounding my apartment and the school, here’s a brief rundown of what I have experienced, and how I feel about it:

1) My apartment.
It’s small, which I expected. My shower is a shower head in one of my bathroom walls, and a drain in the floor – also expected. The location is pretty good: close to the subway, the school, Kyle and an awesome French boulangerie-type place.

2) My job.
I love the kids, they’re really sweet and cute. I teach kindergarten from 9:45 to 2:15 everyday, and the schedule is CRAZY. It’s very structured and well organized, but very different from what I’m used to. The school uses an American curriculum designed to teach native Spanish speakers English, so it’s “tried and true”, but that doesn’t make it any less confusing! It’s all going to take some getting used to.

In the afternoons I teach anywhere from one to four classes of slightly older students, which is a lot of fun. Although we’re all usually exhausted by the time these classes start, I love being with the “older” kids. I’ve known for a while that I love ESL and, so far, this experience is confirming that fact.

That being said, I’ve also quickly realized that I will never, ever be a kindergarten teacher. It takes a special kind of person to be able to do that job; they are Saints. I am not. Already I have stood in the middle of a classroom, with ten five year-olds running around, singing, dancing and screaming, and realized that I could do absolutely nothing to stop them. That’s when the principal walked in. THAT’S when I wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out. I’m sure that part of it is the fact that they have their reading and phonics classes immediately after lunch. I know that a lot of it is developing a rapport and a routine with them, and I also know that things will get better. But I’m also confident that when I get home, I will not be working in a kindergarten class!

There is a silver lining... The great thing about primary students is that they love their teachers—they’re always hanging off of you, and yelling “Hi Jacquie Teacher!” as soon as they see me. In Korea, it’s expected that you hug the students and basically show affection towards them. This is WAY different from the North American “don’t-even-try-to-touch-my-child-or-I’m-calling-the-cops-you-dirty- paedophile”. On the first day, one of my students ran up and hugged me and I almost had a fit! While I realize that we do have to protect our children, after having been here for a mere week I’ve began to see exactly how ridiculous and paranoid Canadian (Western?) society is... but more on that later.

3) The cost of living.
Everything is REALLY inexpensive. Three of us went out for dinner the other day and it basically cost the equivalent of $10. I bought a case of 6 2 Litre bottles of water for $4 from the convenience store down the street. A twenty minute cab ride was $6. It’s pretty crazy.

4) The language.
I was hoping to teach myself some Korean before I left home, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to retain anything! Now that I’m here, it’s not much better. Once I get settled I think I might try to find a course or something to take. Most people speak at least a little English, but it would be nice to be able to go to a restaurant and order in Korean, or at least be able to decipher the menu!

5) The food.
So far I really like Korean food! I haven’t had a ton of it, but what I have had has been really good. I’m pretty much in love with kimchi (pickled cabbage in a spicy sauce that is served as a side dish with every meal). There’s also a lot of international food. Last night we went to this AWESOME Mexican restaurant and I had the best burrito I’ve ever eaten!

This weekend I’m going to visit Julia and she’s going to show me a bit of Seoul. I’m really excited about that, and I’m sure I’ll have more to write about when I get back!

Dear Mr. Sandman

I really love sleeping. I’m one of those people who needs a solid eight hours a night, and, for the most part, is ok with that. When I’m tired, I go to bed. Sometimes, if I’m really exhausted, I even get excited about going to sleep. Not so excited that I can’t fall asleep, mind you, but I really, really look forward to hitting the sack, if you will.

Over the past few days, since my arrival in Korea, this particular brand of excitement has continued to grow. And grow. And grow. In fact, it hasn’t ceased to expand and develop. Why? Because I have yet to actually sleep, which means that every night, as an acceptable bed time approaches, my excitement grows exponentially.

Under normal circumstances, excitement is great. However, when you keep getting let down, again and again, eventually it becomes too much; you start to dread the onset of the excitement, because you fear that this time will be just like all the others. It’s basically sleep’s equivalent of blue balls. To make a long story short: jet lag is seriously kicking my ass.

Numbers, Traffic and All-Around Stress

Well, I can now, honestly and truly, explain to each and every one of you (because I’m sure you’re all VERY eager to know...) what EXACTLY happens once you actually manage to get a visa issuance number and meander down to the Korean consulate... However, I will not, because I’m equally certain that not a one of you really cares. And if you do, you can email me J. Suffice it to say... be ABSOLUTELY certain that you give yourself enough time to fight through traffic and make it to the consulate before noon, when the visa window closes. And by “enough time”, I mean, a ton of extra time, because this day will inevitably be the one when you lose your cell phone, almost run out of gas and get stuck in traffic because the bloody Gardner is down to one lane RIGHT before the exit you need. On this particular day, you will decide how much you hate driving in Toronto and, despite making it to the embassy on time (barely), you will have a stress headache all day because you were forced to rush and speed and become that driver you usually hate down to the very core of your being... True story.

On a more positive note... my interview is scheduled for next Wednesday at 3 pm... which hopefully means I can fly out on Saturday... The deal is even sweetened by the fact that Monday is a holiday, which essentially equals more time to combat the jetlag that everyone is so certain I will not experience. Those people obviously don’t know me very well... I image that, for the first few days anyway, I will have a strong reliance on melatonin pills... and adrenaline...

In other news...

Most of my teacher friends started teaching this week. Many are teaching children they love in subjects they are passionate about. Several are not. One in particular managed to get a job despite never having applied for a teaching position seeing as she decided that she did not want to teach. Ever. As if this weren’t odd enough, she’s teaching a grade level that she has no experience with, nor any desire to get to know. Let’s call her... Lynn. While Lynn is stressing about the students in her Kindergarden gym class getting bloody noses and how to go about teaching grade twos how to conjugate verbs in French, I am getting WAY too excited suggesting that she sing her grade ones the alphabet song in French, find translations of Hannah Montana for her grade sixes, and have her grade fives trace one another on chart paper and dress “themselves” in the attire suitable for their desired future professions. Not just suggesting, but calling, texting, emailing these suggestions “sans cesse”. Not that this incredibly brilliant and wonderfully creative individual couldn’t come up with ideas just as exciting/ interesting as these (if not more so)... it’s just that I, for one, have a problem. I NEED to get back in a classroom. Soon.

Oh, and “Lynn”... I think this will be a great experience for you. The world needs more dedicated, inspirational teachers like you; whether you believe you truly are well-suited or not.

The Waiting Game

I’m not really into games. Board games, card games, video games... (ok, that last one’s a lie, but the sentence sounded better with three types of game, and it was all I could come up with...) and I especially hate waiting. I’m impatient. So when you add games with waiting, you end up with one anxious, frustrated Jacquie.

Getting a work visa for Korea takes forever. Not that I have a lot experience in the visa department (see last post) but I’ve been waiting for over a month. Order transcripts and record checks, and wait. Make appointments with lawyers, and wait. Go to the embassy, and wait. Send off your documents, and, well you get the point.

My advice: if you’re planning on getting one of these visas, give yourself about two months. Here’s a quick list of what you need...

a) A criminal record check with vulnerable sector (takes about two weeks to get)
b) 2 copies of all university transcripts (sealed)

Once you have those, you have to get the record check notarized by a lawyer. Take the original and the notarized copy to the embassy, along with photo i.d. and a photocopy of the i.d. The notarized copy will be stamped by someone at the consulate. Then you have to send the following to your school in Korea:

a) The notarized/ stamped copy of your record check
b) Your original undergraduate diploma (or a notarized and stamped copy)
c) 2 passport photos
d) 1 transcript
e) A photocopy of the identity page of your passport

Once they receive this stuff, they’ll go and get your visa issuance number. This also takes forever. What comes next? I have absolutely no idea, seeing as this is where I have been for the past three weeks.