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?"