Dear friends, family, countrymen,
For the loyal readers out there (though I'm not sure how I could have loyal readers after just a couple of emails), I apologize for not getting an update out to you for a couple of weeks now. The intervening time has been rather full of language study, retreat, and general weariness. This week was probably the roughest I've had yet in terms of my feeling equal to the task set before me, and definitely was the lowest point in terms of my emotional state. Still, the intervening time had its high points. Both set of points, high and low, follow, perhaps in order of importance, but more likely in the order I'll remember them.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Greeting from a letter home
Much of the posts that recently appeared on this blog were cribbed from a recent mass email home. I believe in efficiency (and also in sleep), so I'm updating the blog in this way. There is some original material here, but if you read the mass email already, you probably shouldn't even be trying to find the new stuff below. Here, at any rate, is the greeting from that email:
Placement Info: The Hamlet, Kangwon-do province
This Wednesday (2007/7/25), the 2007-08 Fulbright Korea ETAs received their placements for the upcoming "academic" year. (It's in quotes because it's the American academic year. The Korean academic year begins and ends in Winter, as I believe Japan's does.) The placements range all over the country. Many ETAs actually were placed quite close to each other. I, however, got my wish of immersive isolation. I have been placed in a rural ski resort village called Pyeongchang, which literally translated means "Window of Criticism". Fancy, huh?
The school I'll be teaching at is a Co-Ed public high school of about 337 students, of which I will actually teach close to 221, far below the expected 400-700 students I informed most of you about when you asked what I actually knew about the school I'd teach at. Like most Korean high schools, it is divided into three grades (the equivalents of Sophomore-Senior/10-12 in the States). Of these, I will only teach the lower two, as the third grade will be studying almost exclusively for their University entrance exam which will decide the rest of their life. I'm not disappointed, however. Far from it, in fact. I might actually be able to learn all of my student's names at this rate!
But I will probably not be having deep conversations with them. I had also told some of you that my students will have had close to four years of English grammar before they arrive in High School. While this will be the case at my school, all English training is geared towards the University entrance exam which is based on reading comprehension and knowledge of obscure grammar conventions. There is no speaking portion and no listening portion. (The Korean Education Dept. is trying to adjust this, but it is hard to get the older, more respected English teachers to teach spoken English as not even they can speak it.) Thus, the students take their English classes entirely in Korean, and most will have never spoken or heard a word of English. The previous ETA assigned to this school wrote the following about my students' level:
The level here is VERY LOW. As in, non-existent. They cannot produce anything so I spent a lot of time having them repeat things I said. Lessons have to be quite simple, and I always found they were too difficult. Specific advice for level and gender: The fact that they had no English at all, and that I was told to use no Korean at all. Not a whole lot of communication, and even less "conversation."
As for class management:
Boredom! Talking to kids in a language they don't understand is not fun for anyone. So naturally they talked in class, but that was it. I never encountered discipline problems beyond that. They really are perfect children by American standards.
Well, at least I won't have to worry about discipline provided there isn't a surge in gangsters in the community. I'll just keep the lessons as simple as possible. My mom used to teach Spanish using a system called TPR (Total Physical Response) which crossed story telling for word association with meaningful physical movement. It allowed me to jump from Spanish II to Spanish III at Winona Senior High School when I was no longer in her class just because of my facility with vocabulary. Hopefully, since these students have already had four years of vocabulary training, they will garner even more from it than I did. It sounds like it will mostly be a matter of getting their mouths to form the words their brains already know. We shall see.
Otherwise, I'm thinking of taking up road biking fairly seriously to keep myself occupied. The town has a population of around 3,000 people, I believe (only 46,000 in the entire county), and there will not be much to do. (Maybe by the end of the year I'll be able to participate in the Tour de France! Right...) There is, as I said, a ski resort there, so I shall have to learn I suppose. My homestay will likely be with a farming family, so I will get to help with traditional farm life, i.e. no tractors or harvesters. Everything will be done by hand or with the help of beasts of burden (the lowly ox, etc.). There is also a TaeKwonDo gym. The last ETA was able to get his black belt in a year, and perhaps I can accomplish the same.
The biggest reason I'm happy about this assignment is that I will have the opportunity to really develop my Korean speaking skills (although reading may lax quite a bit). The regional dialect is slower than the conventional dialect of Seoul (like a drawl, but I hope without the bending of vowels), so I should be able to keep up with it better than if I was placed in an urban environment. There will be no English speakers except for a handful of English teachers (and not even all of them...), so I will be forced to use my Korean. I will probably be able to get 4 day weeks, though, so if I really need to vent in English to someone, I can travel the 30 minutes by bus to the nearest "city" and visit two of the other ETAs placed the closest to me. I will probably need to do this for the first couple months as I adjust.
Incidentally, some of you may have unwittingly heard of Pyeongchang, especially if you follow the Olympic goings on fairly closely in the "off season". It was in the running to host the 2014 Winter Olympic Games, but lost to Russia in the final ballot.
The school I'll be teaching at is a Co-Ed public high school of about 337 students, of which I will actually teach close to 221, far below the expected 400-700 students I informed most of you about when you asked what I actually knew about the school I'd teach at. Like most Korean high schools, it is divided into three grades (the equivalents of Sophomore-Senior/10-12 in the States). Of these, I will only teach the lower two, as the third grade will be studying almost exclusively for their University entrance exam which will decide the rest of their life. I'm not disappointed, however. Far from it, in fact. I might actually be able to learn all of my student's names at this rate!
But I will probably not be having deep conversations with them. I had also told some of you that my students will have had close to four years of English grammar before they arrive in High School. While this will be the case at my school, all English training is geared towards the University entrance exam which is based on reading comprehension and knowledge of obscure grammar conventions. There is no speaking portion and no listening portion. (The Korean Education Dept. is trying to adjust this, but it is hard to get the older, more respected English teachers to teach spoken English as not even they can speak it.) Thus, the students take their English classes entirely in Korean, and most will have never spoken or heard a word of English. The previous ETA assigned to this school wrote the following about my students' level:
The level here is VERY LOW. As in, non-existent. They cannot produce anything so I spent a lot of time having them repeat things I said. Lessons have to be quite simple, and I always found they were too difficult. Specific advice for level and gender: The fact that they had no English at all, and that I was told to use no Korean at all. Not a whole lot of communication, and even less "conversation."
As for class management:
Boredom! Talking to kids in a language they don't understand is not fun for anyone. So naturally they talked in class, but that was it. I never encountered discipline problems beyond that. They really are perfect children by American standards.
Well, at least I won't have to worry about discipline provided there isn't a surge in gangsters in the community. I'll just keep the lessons as simple as possible. My mom used to teach Spanish using a system called TPR (Total Physical Response) which crossed story telling for word association with meaningful physical movement. It allowed me to jump from Spanish II to Spanish III at Winona Senior High School when I was no longer in her class just because of my facility with vocabulary. Hopefully, since these students have already had four years of vocabulary training, they will garner even more from it than I did. It sounds like it will mostly be a matter of getting their mouths to form the words their brains already know. We shall see.
Otherwise, I'm thinking of taking up road biking fairly seriously to keep myself occupied. The town has a population of around 3,000 people, I believe (only 46,000 in the entire county), and there will not be much to do. (Maybe by the end of the year I'll be able to participate in the Tour de France! Right...) There is, as I said, a ski resort there, so I shall have to learn I suppose. My homestay will likely be with a farming family, so I will get to help with traditional farm life, i.e. no tractors or harvesters. Everything will be done by hand or with the help of beasts of burden (the lowly ox, etc.). There is also a TaeKwonDo gym. The last ETA was able to get his black belt in a year, and perhaps I can accomplish the same.
The biggest reason I'm happy about this assignment is that I will have the opportunity to really develop my Korean speaking skills (although reading may lax quite a bit). The regional dialect is slower than the conventional dialect of Seoul (like a drawl, but I hope without the bending of vowels), so I should be able to keep up with it better than if I was placed in an urban environment. There will be no English speakers except for a handful of English teachers (and not even all of them...), so I will be forced to use my Korean. I will probably be able to get 4 day weeks, though, so if I really need to vent in English to someone, I can travel the 30 minutes by bus to the nearest "city" and visit two of the other ETAs placed the closest to me. I will probably need to do this for the first couple months as I adjust.
Incidentally, some of you may have unwittingly heard of Pyeongchang, especially if you follow the Olympic goings on fairly closely in the "off season". It was in the running to host the 2014 Winter Olympic Games, but lost to Russia in the final ballot.
Tae kwon do (태권도)
I'm unsure if I've mentioned this before (except for the brief blurb above about things to do in Pyeongchang), but I'm currently taking tae kwon do with one of the best masters in Korea. We call him Kwanjangnim, which means he's the head of a Kwan, or specific discipline within the martial art as a whole. It's a fairly high honor, but he likes Fulbright quite a bit. He even gave us our uniforms for free and is only charging $100 for a month's lessons. He hopes to make Taekwondo fun for us so that we will want to continue with it during our year stay. This essentially means that he's going easy on us.
Going easy or not, Taekwondo remains difficult for me. The first obstacle is my lack of flexibility. Taekwondo is a Martial Art that focuses mainly on kicking, and I am having trouble getting my stout dwarf running legs to bend in directions other than directly ahead of me. (For the curious, I believe there are four popular martial arts in the United States. As far as I know, here is what their concentrations are. Taekwondo, kicking; Karate, punching; Kung Fu, misdirection (using an opponents strength against him or her); Judo, throwing.)
Another obstacle is my sweat, which makes the floor beneath me rather slick (we practice barefoot), and thus keeping my balance during drills and sparing becomes a bit of a problem especially during the more "enthusiastic" kicks. The wetness also has given me rather large blisters, especially on my left foot. I recently went to the local department store (Emart) to purchase some bandages, and I hope I can get most of my open blisters to heal before next week Thursday (8/2/2007) when we will test for our Yellow Belts.
The Yellow Belt examination will include our knowledge of and facility with Relaxed, Walking, Long, and Riding Horse stance, as well as our transitions between these; high, body, and low punch; front, straight, roundhouse (not the Chuck Norris kick, if you were wondering; apparently that's a misnomer), and perhaps side kick, though most of us are not up to that yet. We have to know the commands for these in Korean, as there will be no translation. Should be fun!
Last night (Friday, 7/26), Kwanjangnim invited our student translator, our two black belts, and couple others of us out to dinner. He took us to his school where we saw some children who were training. Most are already black belts, and those that aren't already know their black belt forms, but are not allowed to wear a full black belt until they reach sixteen, which I guess is the age they can actually compete in full out tournaments. Essentially, I would not want to fight any of them, although they will be visiting/humiliating us next Tuesday.
Dinner was awesome. He paid, as he is supposed to in the social hierarchy. The meal was a little awkward as we are not yet used to the conventions of this hierarchy. An easy thing was always pouring for those who are higher rank than you. A harder thing was not letting that person see you drink. You have to physically turn your body away. He took us to the best dokgalbi place in Chuncheon (the aforementioned best dokgalbi in the world)--1.5 Dokgalbi.
TKD
Going easy or not, Taekwondo remains difficult for me. The first obstacle is my lack of flexibility. Taekwondo is a Martial Art that focuses mainly on kicking, and I am having trouble getting my stout dwarf running legs to bend in directions other than directly ahead of me. (For the curious, I believe there are four popular martial arts in the United States. As far as I know, here is what their concentrations are. Taekwondo, kicking; Karate, punching; Kung Fu, misdirection (using an opponents strength against him or her); Judo, throwing.)
Another obstacle is my sweat, which makes the floor beneath me rather slick (we practice barefoot), and thus keeping my balance during drills and sparing becomes a bit of a problem especially during the more "enthusiastic" kicks. The wetness also has given me rather large blisters, especially on my left foot. I recently went to the local department store (Emart) to purchase some bandages, and I hope I can get most of my open blisters to heal before next week Thursday (8/2/2007) when we will test for our Yellow Belts.
The Yellow Belt examination will include our knowledge of and facility with Relaxed, Walking, Long, and Riding Horse stance, as well as our transitions between these; high, body, and low punch; front, straight, roundhouse (not the Chuck Norris kick, if you were wondering; apparently that's a misnomer), and perhaps side kick, though most of us are not up to that yet. We have to know the commands for these in Korean, as there will be no translation. Should be fun!
Last night (Friday, 7/26), Kwanjangnim invited our student translator, our two black belts, and couple others of us out to dinner. He took us to his school where we saw some children who were training. Most are already black belts, and those that aren't already know their black belt forms, but are not allowed to wear a full black belt until they reach sixteen, which I guess is the age they can actually compete in full out tournaments. Essentially, I would not want to fight any of them, although they will be visiting/humiliating us next Tuesday.
Dinner was awesome. He paid, as he is supposed to in the social hierarchy. The meal was a little awkward as we are not yet used to the conventions of this hierarchy. An easy thing was always pouring for those who are higher rank than you. A harder thing was not letting that person see you drink. You have to physically turn your body away. He took us to the best dokgalbi place in Chuncheon (the aforementioned best dokgalbi in the world)--1.5 Dokgalbi.
TKD
Teaching
This last week was the first week of Camp the Program. Camp the Program is essentially an English immersion experience offered through the Program for children grades 4-9 (American system). As the description indicates, the campers are allowed ZERO Korean, something which frustrates me a little as I want to practice Korean, not English. But the immersion camp is really an ostensible purpose. The real goal is to get us ATEs some teaching experience. As such, I will have to teach two 45-minute classes (or one 90-minute team taught class and one 45-minute class, which I actually opted for), team-lead one club activity (in my case, drama club), and one "Weekend Fun" activity (Ultimate Frisbee). I've already done the team taught class and the club activity, so I'll describe those and save the rest for next week.
As I said, I team taught my first lesson. The Program required lesson plans with a specific template from me and my co-teacher (my roommate, Ray). This was a little annoying, but we got through it okay. We decided that we would teach American Tall Tales to the children. We were teaching about 8 low-intermediate level students, so we figured they'd like the stories and they'd be able to learn a lot from the visuals (a la pictures and video cribbed from YouTube.com). By the end of class, we would ask them to write down some Korean folk tales that they knew and share them with the class.
It actually turned out to be a slight disaster, but we recovered well. The students were a little lower level than we thought they would be in terms of vocabulary, so we ended up doing a LOT of clarification of ideas and vocabulary and so we were only able to get through the American Tall Tales portion. But, that ended up being a nice stopping point anyway, so we were satisfied. The Camp Instructor supervising our session said that I have a "good teaching voice" and overall presence, by which she meant it commanded respect, but was warm enough to be affirming. Somethings I need to work on: transitions, speaking slowly, and using big words, although she did note that the few times I was about to use big words, I caught myself.
Drama Club was more fun than work from my end. We basically played improv games with them. Most were pretty quiet (odd for people who volunteered for Drama Club), but the improv games sort of forced participation out of them. (For you VALPO theatre people, I led Ukaleyla for a movement/voice warmup. The campers loved it, and so did the other ATEs.)
As I said, I team taught my first lesson. The Program required lesson plans with a specific template from me and my co-teacher (my roommate, Ray). This was a little annoying, but we got through it okay. We decided that we would teach American Tall Tales to the children. We were teaching about 8 low-intermediate level students, so we figured they'd like the stories and they'd be able to learn a lot from the visuals (a la pictures and video cribbed from YouTube.com). By the end of class, we would ask them to write down some Korean folk tales that they knew and share them with the class.
It actually turned out to be a slight disaster, but we recovered well. The students were a little lower level than we thought they would be in terms of vocabulary, so we ended up doing a LOT of clarification of ideas and vocabulary and so we were only able to get through the American Tall Tales portion. But, that ended up being a nice stopping point anyway, so we were satisfied. The Camp Instructor supervising our session said that I have a "good teaching voice" and overall presence, by which she meant it commanded respect, but was warm enough to be affirming. Somethings I need to work on: transitions, speaking slowly, and using big words, although she did note that the few times I was about to use big words, I caught myself.
Drama Club was more fun than work from my end. We basically played improv games with them. Most were pretty quiet (odd for people who volunteered for Drama Club), but the improv games sort of forced participation out of them. (For you VALPO theatre people, I led Ukaleyla for a movement/voice warmup. The campers loved it, and so did the other ATEs.)
Songnisan
Last weekend (7/20-22), the Powers that Be in Seoul decided that we needed a break from studying and sent us off to Songnisan National Park for a relaxing couple of days of hiking and exploring in the mountains. (Of course, they planned this not knowing that we had a test on Monday and had to prepare our lessons for the upcoming Camp the Program week, which meant I ended up more tired on Monday than I was on Friday as I crammed and prepared my Sunday night away. They apologized for the scheduling problems and said they'd fix them before next year.)
The trip was fun. There was a buddhist temple there which featured an outdoor bronze buddha dedicated to the reunification of Korea. The hiking was good as well, though it was almost straight up the mountain side. To give you an idea of the difficulty level, the first 3 km took approximately 1 hour. The last 3 km to the summit took 3 hours. We started at 3 a.m., took lots of breaks, and ended up back at our hotel around 1 p.m. Long and hard work which let me sleep soundly that night. Along some Korean hiking trails (the easier ones) there are little cafes where one can get something to drink and eat and sit for a while. Ours had none however, and we were glad that we packed in a small breakfast. On the way down, we stopped at a hermitage with an amazing vista (at least it would have been if it weren't so foggy). The gardeners there said that that particular hermitage boasted a spring with the best water in all of Korea. Miracle water they said it was. It did taste sweet and certainly slaked my thirst.
The hotels were interesting, if only because there was no bed in the room. Instead, we slept on yo which are stuffed comforters, essentially, which can be easily stowed during the day. They are comfortable (I like firm mattresses anyway), but they don't offer much padding, so sleeping on one's side is a little hard on the hips. Water was pumped from a subterranean spring 200 m below the hotel, so it was potable. I ended both nights watching Korean dramas until I fell asleep. My Korean speaking friends would help translate on occasion.
Songnisan is famous for its mushrooms, and during the weekend we had mushroom soups with almost every meal (버섯전골 and 버섯찌게). Both were quite delicious and served with a variety of mountain vegetables and roots. One that I particularly enjoyed was a very spicy pepper encrusted with sugar. The sweetness would hit first, then the spiciness about 30-seconds later. It was almost like a reverse Warhead, those super sour candies I used to devour when I was a kid that would assault the tongue for about 50 seconds before allowing their sweet center to come through.
We were actually told to buy mushrooms as gifts for our Korean teachers if we wanted. The Powers that Be every year tell the ATEs that the mushrooms make a great gift and are highly appreciated by the language teaching staff. There are conflicting reports on this, however, as some teachers apparently blatantly told their students not to buy mushrooms for them, and other students who had more experience in Korea said that food items that require preparation are usually odd gifts for younger people. They might go over better with an older generation, though. Our class played it safe and bought some mushrooms and also a green tea tea set for each of our teachers. I have a feeling we did well in this, as the positive reaction towards the tea set seemed much more genuine than than the positive reaction towards the mushrooms.
EDIT (9/3/2007): I forgot to relate two things in this post that I want to remember. First of all, I didn't finish a rather expensive meal, rather, my table didn't finish a rather expensive meal, thus we were punished through public humiliation--wacks on the head with an inflatable hammer from those who finished the meal for us. Second, I played in the water with the little kiddies. It was by a little dam in the river. It was a blast. I have a feeling the Powers that Be did not appreciate this a whole lot, though, as I was very wet immediately before we had to go home.
The trip was fun. There was a buddhist temple there which featured an outdoor bronze buddha dedicated to the reunification of Korea. The hiking was good as well, though it was almost straight up the mountain side. To give you an idea of the difficulty level, the first 3 km took approximately 1 hour. The last 3 km to the summit took 3 hours. We started at 3 a.m., took lots of breaks, and ended up back at our hotel around 1 p.m. Long and hard work which let me sleep soundly that night. Along some Korean hiking trails (the easier ones) there are little cafes where one can get something to drink and eat and sit for a while. Ours had none however, and we were glad that we packed in a small breakfast. On the way down, we stopped at a hermitage with an amazing vista (at least it would have been if it weren't so foggy). The gardeners there said that that particular hermitage boasted a spring with the best water in all of Korea. Miracle water they said it was. It did taste sweet and certainly slaked my thirst.
The hotels were interesting, if only because there was no bed in the room. Instead, we slept on yo which are stuffed comforters, essentially, which can be easily stowed during the day. They are comfortable (I like firm mattresses anyway), but they don't offer much padding, so sleeping on one's side is a little hard on the hips. Water was pumped from a subterranean spring 200 m below the hotel, so it was potable. I ended both nights watching Korean dramas until I fell asleep. My Korean speaking friends would help translate on occasion.
Songnisan is famous for its mushrooms, and during the weekend we had mushroom soups with almost every meal (버섯전골 and 버섯찌게). Both were quite delicious and served with a variety of mountain vegetables and roots. One that I particularly enjoyed was a very spicy pepper encrusted with sugar. The sweetness would hit first, then the spiciness about 30-seconds later. It was almost like a reverse Warhead, those super sour candies I used to devour when I was a kid that would assault the tongue for about 50 seconds before allowing their sweet center to come through.
We were actually told to buy mushrooms as gifts for our Korean teachers if we wanted. The Powers that Be every year tell the ATEs that the mushrooms make a great gift and are highly appreciated by the language teaching staff. There are conflicting reports on this, however, as some teachers apparently blatantly told their students not to buy mushrooms for them, and other students who had more experience in Korea said that food items that require preparation are usually odd gifts for younger people. They might go over better with an older generation, though. Our class played it safe and bought some mushrooms and also a green tea tea set for each of our teachers. I have a feeling we did well in this, as the positive reaction towards the tea set seemed much more genuine than than the positive reaction towards the mushrooms.
EDIT (9/3/2007): I forgot to relate two things in this post that I want to remember. First of all, I didn't finish a rather expensive meal, rather, my table didn't finish a rather expensive meal, thus we were punished through public humiliation--wacks on the head with an inflatable hammer from those who finished the meal for us. Second, I played in the water with the little kiddies. It was by a little dam in the river. It was a blast. I have a feeling the Powers that Be did not appreciate this a whole lot, though, as I was very wet immediately before we had to go home.
Culinary Note: Samgyeopsal (삼겹살)
Wednesday night I went out to dinner with some friends to celebrate (or drown our sorrows over, depending on the assignment) our placement announcements. My roommate, Ray, recommended that we try samgyeopsal, which is essentially thickly sliced bacon. Because it has so much more meat as compared to American bacon, it tastes much "porkier" than bacon does.
Like dokgalbi, it is served raw on a hot griddle in the middle of the table along with various vegetables, including onions, garlic, and kimchi. Unlike dokgalbi, it usually has no seasoning. If it does, it is usually something simple like an herb blend with salt. Though it is brought out in long strips, this is only so that it can cook. Part way through the cooking process, the customer may take a provided pair of scissors and cut the meat into more manageable, bite-sized slices.
Again like dokgalbi, the pork should be placed in a cool lettuce leaf with whatever condiments one prefers. This meal is one of the few in Korea where it is appropriate to eat with the hands. It tastes best with soju or another non-fruit alcohol (as most salty foods do), but because the meat is not really spicy, I don't feel that soda would interfere with the taste, and might even add a sweetness to the smokey flavor of the meet. Dokgalbi was my second favorite meal thus far. Samgyeopsal is my first.
Like dokgalbi, it is served raw on a hot griddle in the middle of the table along with various vegetables, including onions, garlic, and kimchi. Unlike dokgalbi, it usually has no seasoning. If it does, it is usually something simple like an herb blend with salt. Though it is brought out in long strips, this is only so that it can cook. Part way through the cooking process, the customer may take a provided pair of scissors and cut the meat into more manageable, bite-sized slices.
Again like dokgalbi, the pork should be placed in a cool lettuce leaf with whatever condiments one prefers. This meal is one of the few in Korea where it is appropriate to eat with the hands. It tastes best with soju or another non-fruit alcohol (as most salty foods do), but because the meat is not really spicy, I don't feel that soda would interfere with the taste, and might even add a sweetness to the smokey flavor of the meet. Dokgalbi was my second favorite meal thus far. Samgyeopsal is my first.
Struggles in Korea
Mind you, Korea has not been all culinary delight and easy living. Language courses have been especially brutal. In going over the vocabulary cards I made for the first week of classes, I noticed that the second set of words we received was twice as big as the first set. This exponential model continues, not necessarily in terms of vocabulary, but in terms of grammar and phrases and general language conventions. We've gotten to the point of giving and receiving directions (a la "Donde esta la biblioteca?"), but at this point I just can't process anymore new information. I could really use a week of review and practice, but we press ever onwards towards fluency and we cannot stop to smell the directions to the 화장실.
Another issue I'm dealing with, quite frankly, is the cafeteria food. It really is quite awful and unoriginal. It was interesting at first, of course, when everything was new, but the shine is off the apple by now, and having had off campus food, I realize just how bad the on-campus food is. I've given up on Korean "breakfast" (which is the same as every other meal--kimchi, rice, bland soup, and some kind of meat concoction, usually poorly prepared fish or pork). Fortunately, the school is providing us with toast and milk in a back room, so I've taken to eating this in the morning. Every morning except Tuesday, however, when everyone on campus eats "Western" breakfast, which consists of bread (but no toaster), jam, a salad with oil and tomatoes, and some pork or fish or else eggs mashed with potatoes or pickled eggs. (I thought this might be particular to our cafeteria on campus, but our Songnisan breakfast also had the salad option for "Western" breakfast.) They also occasionally try to put together "Western" lunches and dinners. Today's lunch, for instance, consisted of spaghetti, which was actually strange combination of pasta and slightly spicy sloppy joe mix. It tasted good, but I was really hoping for the spaghetti. Cheese and dairy is almost non-existent here, so if anyone is thinking of sending me something, a nice block of jack cheese would be spectacular.
And then there's the other struggle...
"Cultural Ambassador vs. Cultural Tool"
Many of our workshops here focus on how part of our responsibility as Program ATEs is as cultural ambassadors. As such, we should realize that many things in Korea are just different. For instance, the hierarchy in Korea, although democratized, is still fairly rigid in terms of customs. People still bow to their superiors and use polite formal verb-stem endings when speaking to them. We should accept these differences and live with them, and even embrace them it seems. But sometimes I wonder...
An extending ATE told me about an experience she had with a Middle Schooler during her last year here. The child is a trouble maker, she says, but she is of the opinion that he's just being cute. For instance, he will ask if she is the king of the classroom, and she will respond, as a teacher probably should, "Yes, I am king." Then he will declare a revolution against the king. (He used advanced Korean vocabulary for this, so the other Korean teachers were impressed.) He will also swear at her when singing happy birthday to her, using that foulest word in the English language, and even has a cheat sheet of Korean insults translated into English. These latter insults usually don't come across very well, i.e. "Teacher, you lecture to me very badly," but the sentiment is there. He leads a gang of children at the Middle School. Gangs are mostly harmless here, especially in middle school, and more like groups of friends that just hang out all the time and act angsty.
The above I could just trot up to middle school insolence, especially in a country where children mature much slower compared to American children in terms of maintaining a certain naivete about how the world works. (I have not experienced this immaturity yet, but rely on the good report of those who have come before me.) But then she related an experience with this particular student that troubled me greatly. The student had just come from art class where he had been working with foamboard. He presented his creation to the ATE and said, "Teacher, gift!" She looked at it and found that it was a very artfully recreated scene of the second plane crashing into the WTC on September 11. Then the student gave the ATE a thumbs up and smilingly said, "Teacher! Great day!"
When the ATE related the story, she was laughing about it (I'm not sure why), and said, "What do I say to that? It's good art?" Troubling.
I understand that we're supposed to be cultural ambassadors, that we're supposed to be respectful of a foreign culture, but I'm not exactly sure that means we're supposed to take cultural insults against our country. No matter someone's feelings towards the United States, the WTC incident was a terrible tragedy, not a great day; just as, though I feel we ultimately are doing more good than bad in Iraq, I acknowledge that the war itself is a tragedy of enormous proportion.
So, what would I have done? I probably would have stopped class and made the issue into a teachable moment. There is a shocking lack of respect for foreign cultures and ideas in Korea, and though the Koreans as a nation may choose not to adopt the foreign cultures and may disagree with them, they should at least be respectful of them. Respect is something that I feel should be able to transcend borders, and it should probably be something that is taught throughout primary and secondary education.
It was just shocking is all. I do not think I will be a very good "cultural ambassador" if it means having to take children driving a knife into a wound in my country's history that I still feel quite deeply.
Another issue I'm dealing with, quite frankly, is the cafeteria food. It really is quite awful and unoriginal. It was interesting at first, of course, when everything was new, but the shine is off the apple by now, and having had off campus food, I realize just how bad the on-campus food is. I've given up on Korean "breakfast" (which is the same as every other meal--kimchi, rice, bland soup, and some kind of meat concoction, usually poorly prepared fish or pork). Fortunately, the school is providing us with toast and milk in a back room, so I've taken to eating this in the morning. Every morning except Tuesday, however, when everyone on campus eats "Western" breakfast, which consists of bread (but no toaster), jam, a salad with oil and tomatoes, and some pork or fish or else eggs mashed with potatoes or pickled eggs. (I thought this might be particular to our cafeteria on campus, but our Songnisan breakfast also had the salad option for "Western" breakfast.) They also occasionally try to put together "Western" lunches and dinners. Today's lunch, for instance, consisted of spaghetti, which was actually strange combination of pasta and slightly spicy sloppy joe mix. It tasted good, but I was really hoping for the spaghetti. Cheese and dairy is almost non-existent here, so if anyone is thinking of sending me something, a nice block of jack cheese would be spectacular.
And then there's the other struggle...
"Cultural Ambassador vs. Cultural Tool"
Many of our workshops here focus on how part of our responsibility as Program ATEs is as cultural ambassadors. As such, we should realize that many things in Korea are just different. For instance, the hierarchy in Korea, although democratized, is still fairly rigid in terms of customs. People still bow to their superiors and use polite formal verb-stem endings when speaking to them. We should accept these differences and live with them, and even embrace them it seems. But sometimes I wonder...
An extending ATE told me about an experience she had with a Middle Schooler during her last year here. The child is a trouble maker, she says, but she is of the opinion that he's just being cute. For instance, he will ask if she is the king of the classroom, and she will respond, as a teacher probably should, "Yes, I am king." Then he will declare a revolution against the king. (He used advanced Korean vocabulary for this, so the other Korean teachers were impressed.) He will also swear at her when singing happy birthday to her, using that foulest word in the English language, and even has a cheat sheet of Korean insults translated into English. These latter insults usually don't come across very well, i.e. "Teacher, you lecture to me very badly," but the sentiment is there. He leads a gang of children at the Middle School. Gangs are mostly harmless here, especially in middle school, and more like groups of friends that just hang out all the time and act angsty.
The above I could just trot up to middle school insolence, especially in a country where children mature much slower compared to American children in terms of maintaining a certain naivete about how the world works. (I have not experienced this immaturity yet, but rely on the good report of those who have come before me.) But then she related an experience with this particular student that troubled me greatly. The student had just come from art class where he had been working with foamboard. He presented his creation to the ATE and said, "Teacher, gift!" She looked at it and found that it was a very artfully recreated scene of the second plane crashing into the WTC on September 11. Then the student gave the ATE a thumbs up and smilingly said, "Teacher! Great day!"
When the ATE related the story, she was laughing about it (I'm not sure why), and said, "What do I say to that? It's good art?" Troubling.
I understand that we're supposed to be cultural ambassadors, that we're supposed to be respectful of a foreign culture, but I'm not exactly sure that means we're supposed to take cultural insults against our country. No matter someone's feelings towards the United States, the WTC incident was a terrible tragedy, not a great day; just as, though I feel we ultimately are doing more good than bad in Iraq, I acknowledge that the war itself is a tragedy of enormous proportion.
So, what would I have done? I probably would have stopped class and made the issue into a teachable moment. There is a shocking lack of respect for foreign cultures and ideas in Korea, and though the Koreans as a nation may choose not to adopt the foreign cultures and may disagree with them, they should at least be respectful of them. Respect is something that I feel should be able to transcend borders, and it should probably be something that is taught throughout primary and secondary education.
It was just shocking is all. I do not think I will be a very good "cultural ambassador" if it means having to take children driving a knife into a wound in my country's history that I still feel quite deeply.
Bible Study
Some friends and I have started up a Bible study here at orientation to help maintain our spiritual health during this trying (and awesome!) time. Since we only had four weeks left when we started, we decided that we should go through Philippians, both because it has four chapters and because it is rather encouraging, and we could use that right now. The style that my friends are used to is more like what I experienced in Winona at places like Pleasant Valley Ev. Free and sometimes at Summer camp; that is, they are intellectually rather dry, but spiritually quite affirming. It is a big difference from what I am used to at VALPO, and even at Timothy Lutheran Church, but it is helpful to help me keep some perspective on my spiritual "vocation" (shudders at that word...) in a highly secularized environment. And besides, I brought my Greek with me, so I'm able to add some intellectual depth as far as exegesis is concerned, and my friends seem to appreciate this. (I also brought my knowledge of obscure historical fact with me. I'm not sure this is as appreciated as the translation. They seemed to have a vision of Paul suffering in chains quite literally, perhaps even being whipped with cords. They found this encouraging, especially as their suffering seemed so comparatively small. I reminded them much later on in the study that he was a Roman citizen and probably under house arrest at this time, thus his ability to freely communicate. "Oh..." they said. I sighed.)
The Urinals that Insa: A cultural-anthropological theory with help from fellow ETA Trisha L.
(Original Title: The Urinals that Insa: A cultural-anthropological theory based losely on the tools gained in Christ College's Interpretation of the Social Sciences (a course no longer offered in the form I took it, though I'm told the new form is quite good), with a little help from fellow Entertaining Teacher from America Trisha L.)
Although we can't flush toilet paper here, the urinals in our dormitory (and in most of Korea, as far as I can tell) are all automatic--another instance of the old and new in Korea. Unlike in America, however, the automatic urinals here flush twice: once when one walks up to them; a second time when one leaves, as is convention in the States.
This of course seems strange to those members of our species with the appropriate equipment to use such devices and who have used them in the past, but the strangeness can easily be explained if one has a proper understanding of Korean nunchi, one's ability to sense gibun (or the social feeling of a situation).
For instance, when one is the presence of one's superiors, one should practice good nunchi and realize that the gibun of the situation requires one to use formal language and, upon entering the gibun, to practice insa (or formal greeting by bowing). Let us suppose therefore that the urinal exists in a certain gibun-ic state, that of the hwajangshil, a.k.a. the John. It can exist as it is in this state without doing anything as the gibun does not require anything of it.
Let us then suppose that a superior enters the gibun which the urinal already occupies. Suddenly, that superior brings with him (and it should be a him in this case). As the superior approaches the urinal, therefore, the urinal, being a good Korean urinal made by the Daelim Corporation, must practice good nunchi and perform insa before its superior. In other words, when a bloke, being superior to the machine, walks up to the urinal, the urinal feels obliged to flush. As my colleague Trisha L. has noted, it is not only the urinal which practices good nunchi in this gibun, as the superior in the gibun also performs insa if he looks down to unzip his fly. When the necessary function of the urinal is complete, it performs insa once again (i.e. flushes), the superior performs insa as well (i.e. zips his fly), and the two part company knowing that the gibun of the situation has not been sullied, and both can maintain their respective positions in the hierarchy of Korean democratic society in peace.
If this is the case, perhaps I should take my colleague's advice and begin greeting the urinal with a hearty annyeonghaseyo when I use it in the future.
Although we can't flush toilet paper here, the urinals in our dormitory (and in most of Korea, as far as I can tell) are all automatic--another instance of the old and new in Korea. Unlike in America, however, the automatic urinals here flush twice: once when one walks up to them; a second time when one leaves, as is convention in the States.
This of course seems strange to those members of our species with the appropriate equipment to use such devices and who have used them in the past, but the strangeness can easily be explained if one has a proper understanding of Korean nunchi, one's ability to sense gibun (or the social feeling of a situation).
For instance, when one is the presence of one's superiors, one should practice good nunchi and realize that the gibun of the situation requires one to use formal language and, upon entering the gibun, to practice insa (or formal greeting by bowing). Let us suppose therefore that the urinal exists in a certain gibun-ic state, that of the hwajangshil, a.k.a. the John. It can exist as it is in this state without doing anything as the gibun does not require anything of it.
Let us then suppose that a superior enters the gibun which the urinal already occupies. Suddenly, that superior brings with him (and it should be a him in this case). As the superior approaches the urinal, therefore, the urinal, being a good Korean urinal made by the Daelim Corporation, must practice good nunchi and perform insa before its superior. In other words, when a bloke, being superior to the machine, walks up to the urinal, the urinal feels obliged to flush. As my colleague Trisha L. has noted, it is not only the urinal which practices good nunchi in this gibun, as the superior in the gibun also performs insa if he looks down to unzip his fly. When the necessary function of the urinal is complete, it performs insa once again (i.e. flushes), the superior performs insa as well (i.e. zips his fly), and the two part company knowing that the gibun of the situation has not been sullied, and both can maintain their respective positions in the hierarchy of Korean democratic society in peace.
If this is the case, perhaps I should take my colleague's advice and begin greeting the urinal with a hearty annyeonghaseyo when I use it in the future.
Closing to a Letter Home
The end. I hope you enjoyed this little two-part explanation of what's going on out here in the Land of the Morning Calm. I, for one, am finding this a helpful way of keeping a journal of sorts. It gives me perspective on how much I am actually doing and learning when I get discouraged about the monotony of the daily grind of wake, eat, class, eat, class, exercise, eat, study, sleep. Despite all that's written above, that's what my day, everyday, really looks like. The above helps me realize that that's not what my recollected experience will be.
All my love,
Jeremy
All my love,
Jeremy
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