Wednesday, November 12, 2008

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.


Monday, November 10, 2008

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.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

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.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

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?"

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

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.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

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.


Monday, October 27, 2008

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.