Well the Eagles are in the playoffs. I hoped to wake up this morning to news that the Eagles had beaten the Cowboys, keeping them and their coch-a-roach fugazi fans out of the playoffs. I held no realistic hope that a win would also put the Eagles into the post-season, but as it turned out, everything fell into its right place and all of the sudden the Birds look like a hell of a dangerous team.
I'm sure that watching the highlights of the game on nfl.com pales in comparison to seeing it live, but it's still terribly gratifying. A perfect blend of schadenfreude and fruition.
So, to the hapless Dallas Cowboys, and specifically Mr. Romo (who I heard passed out in the shower after the game and bruised his uterus), who went from seemingly Super Bowl bound to missing the playoffs in a few short months (and managed to trade 3 draft picks for a receiver who didn't catch 20 balls in 10 games), I would like to dedicate this little diddy. You guys are the best.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
christmas morning
Before coming to Korea, I wasn't sure how I'd react to missing Christmas. Christmas has always been very familial, as one might expect, and like many other families mine has had traditions and rituals, things which originated as a consequence of the day but have evolved into the purpose of the day. Plus, being raised in a very Christian environment meant that the religious significance was never lost, or even overshadowed, by the materialistic element.
I think that had I spent Christmas morning sitting alone in my tiny apartment a million miles from home it would've been difficult to handle. As it turned out, I spent the morning of the holiest of Christian holidays at a Buddhist temple.
Called the Yakcheon Temple, it is the largest Buddhist building in Asia. It was very quiet, with few other tourists.
And Christianity take note: acknowledging the holidays of other religions makes your own religion all the more sympathetic and likable.
So for about an hour, during the exact time of the year I'd normally spent opening Christmas presents with family, I walked around this Buddhist temple. It was an odd feeling for sure, a mixture of emotions; inwardly experiencing a day with so much significance to my family's religion while outwardly observing an entirely separate religion.
When I went inside the temple things became more surreal. Upon walking in, the first thing I saw was a giant Buddha ornate with all sorts of things I don't know what to call or how to describe. A few Buddhists were scattered in front of it, bowing and saying prayers. A few monks were walking around here and there, going about their morning routine. I climbed up the stairs to the higher floors, viewing the different spectacles and sights that a Buddhist temple has to offer. I was reminded of a quote from Zooey by JD Salinger, himself a Buddhist, which goes, "...the religious life, and all the agony that goes with it, is just something God sicks on people who have the gall to accuse him of creating an ugly world." Amidst the outward beauty of Jeju and the tumultous past month of my life, that quote seemed especially poignant and particularly vexing.
I took no pictures of these things, because I didn't feel like a tourist. When viewing a waterfall or a scenic seaside view, one wants to preserve the moment's outward beauty so that time can't completely diminish its value. But while inside this temple the importance of it seemed more intrinsic, and photos would do nothing to capture any significance. More than anything else they would debase the reason for it all. I was staring into a completely foreign way that people have found to cope with the ups and downs of life; a picture of it would go as far in encapsulating it as a ray of sunlight does the sun.
When I got to the fourth floor of the temple I was startled by the first loud noise I'd heard since I got there. I looked down into the main part of the temple and saw three monks kneeling in front of the large Buddha. They were chanting prayers and bowing repeatedly. I watched them for a while trying to understand the point of it all and wondering what exactly they were saying. Despite my inkling that I should leave well enough alone, I discreetly snapped a photo of them. I like the fact that it's blurry, because if you think about what I've said here so far, a photo of it should be.
I immediately regretted doing it, but now I'm glad that I did. While a sunbeam doesn't encapsulate the sun, it does remind you of what's out there, even if you can't comprehend it in the slightest.
All in all, it turned out to be the most numinous Christmas I've ever had, void of materialism, smothered in spirituality.
I've got about 200 other photos of a dozen or so other things in Jeju, I'm thinking that maybe once a week or so I'll devote a post to each sight. Stay tuned.
I think that had I spent Christmas morning sitting alone in my tiny apartment a million miles from home it would've been difficult to handle. As it turned out, I spent the morning of the holiest of Christian holidays at a Buddhist temple.
Called the Yakcheon Temple, it is the largest Buddhist building in Asia. It was very quiet, with few other tourists.
And Christianity take note: acknowledging the holidays of other religions makes your own religion all the more sympathetic and likable.So for about an hour, during the exact time of the year I'd normally spent opening Christmas presents with family, I walked around this Buddhist temple. It was an odd feeling for sure, a mixture of emotions; inwardly experiencing a day with so much significance to my family's religion while outwardly observing an entirely separate religion.
When I went inside the temple things became more surreal. Upon walking in, the first thing I saw was a giant Buddha ornate with all sorts of things I don't know what to call or how to describe. A few Buddhists were scattered in front of it, bowing and saying prayers. A few monks were walking around here and there, going about their morning routine. I climbed up the stairs to the higher floors, viewing the different spectacles and sights that a Buddhist temple has to offer. I was reminded of a quote from Zooey by JD Salinger, himself a Buddhist, which goes, "...the religious life, and all the agony that goes with it, is just something God sicks on people who have the gall to accuse him of creating an ugly world." Amidst the outward beauty of Jeju and the tumultous past month of my life, that quote seemed especially poignant and particularly vexing.
I took no pictures of these things, because I didn't feel like a tourist. When viewing a waterfall or a scenic seaside view, one wants to preserve the moment's outward beauty so that time can't completely diminish its value. But while inside this temple the importance of it seemed more intrinsic, and photos would do nothing to capture any significance. More than anything else they would debase the reason for it all. I was staring into a completely foreign way that people have found to cope with the ups and downs of life; a picture of it would go as far in encapsulating it as a ray of sunlight does the sun.
When I got to the fourth floor of the temple I was startled by the first loud noise I'd heard since I got there. I looked down into the main part of the temple and saw three monks kneeling in front of the large Buddha. They were chanting prayers and bowing repeatedly. I watched them for a while trying to understand the point of it all and wondering what exactly they were saying. Despite my inkling that I should leave well enough alone, I discreetly snapped a photo of them. I like the fact that it's blurry, because if you think about what I've said here so far, a photo of it should be.
I immediately regretted doing it, but now I'm glad that I did. While a sunbeam doesn't encapsulate the sun, it does remind you of what's out there, even if you can't comprehend it in the slightest.
All in all, it turned out to be the most numinous Christmas I've ever had, void of materialism, smothered in spirituality.
I've got about 200 other photos of a dozen or so other things in Jeju, I'm thinking that maybe once a week or so I'll devote a post to each sight. Stay tuned.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
words
Tackling the language barrier is a difficult task. Sometimes (most of the time), I've found it best to just nod and smile like an idiot, making it plainly clear that I'm ignorant and oblivious, but at least I'm ignorant and friendly. Other times I'll venture a few words; typically either "annyeong haseyo" or "kamsa hamnida," phrases that respectively mean "hello" and "thank you." Anything more than that and I'm out of my element.
Earlier I was out front of the hostel smoking a cigarette after dinner. A van pulls up to the hostel and a few Koreans pile out. They had their hands full of luggage and whanot, so I, playing the role of the friendly foreigner, open the door for them. They are gracious, and say "kamsa hamnida," and I try to quickly scramble up a phrase in order to them know they are welcome. I say the first thing that pops into my head: de nada.
No matter. Somebody somewhere knows what I meant.
Feliz Navidad from Jeju. Tomorrow it's back to Daejeon. I'll post pictures.
Earlier I was out front of the hostel smoking a cigarette after dinner. A van pulls up to the hostel and a few Koreans pile out. They had their hands full of luggage and whanot, so I, playing the role of the friendly foreigner, open the door for them. They are gracious, and say "kamsa hamnida," and I try to quickly scramble up a phrase in order to them know they are welcome. I say the first thing that pops into my head: de nada.
No matter. Somebody somewhere knows what I meant.
Feliz Navidad from Jeju. Tomorrow it's back to Daejeon. I'll post pictures.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
hwaseong fortress
Today I spent the day in Suwon, checking out the Hwaseong Fortress and Hwaseong Haenggung (palace). The fortress is one of 8 UNESCO world heritage sites on the South Korean mainland, so I figured a day spent there was a day spent wisely. It did not disappoint.
I went with my coworker Danielle and her boyfriend, Joel. At around 10:30am we took a train from Daejeon to Suwon, which took a little more than an hour. I had the South Korean countryside and Cat's Cradle to help pass the time.
Just so you know a little more about what it is these pictures are of, this is straight from the tourist guide:
The Construction period of Hwaseong was between January 1794 (18th year of King Jeongjo, the 22nd king of the Joseon Dynasty) and September 1796. King Jeongjo moved the tomb of his father, Crown Prince Jangheon from Mt. Baebong in Yangju to Mount Hwa in Suwon and established Yongjusa Temple in this vicinity to pray for the souls of the dead. All the government offices and private houses that had been located under Mount Hwa were moved to the lower part of Mount Paldal and Suwonbu was promoted to Yusubu- it became current Suwon. Hwaseong is known as a masterpiece in the history of fortification. It consists of 41 facilities, however, 7 facilities have not been restored. Hwaseong, constructed about 200 years ago, has the most modern scale and function.
On with the show...
Well this is Paldalmun, one of the four main gates to get into the city that the fortress used to protect. As you can see, now it's sort of an island, around which flows traffic. As the fortress is now, it is the only part that is disconnected. We didn't go into this structure because of the massive amount of traffic at the time.
This is the view after walking along the wall for a couple of hundred feet. The fortress wall is on the right. The flags designate the side of the wall that you are on; red means west. You can see Paldalmun there in the center of the picture.
And here's a shot of what was directly behind me from the previous shot. Walking these stairs got old pretty quickly.
A little higher up, still looking towards Paldalmun. The structure on the right is one of the sentry posts. If you look closely, along the wall there are square holes that look out to the west. These were spots where archers could fire through the wall at their attackers.
This is what awaited us at the top of the initial long climb straight up.
The Bell of Filial Piety.
Seogangdae, a military command point at the summit of Mt. Paldal. On the left is a crossbow tower.
View from Seojangdae, and atop the crossbow tower.
Me, next to a bronze statue of King Jeongjo.
I've got a bunch more pictures, but it's a tedious task to upload them onto blogger and drag them to the appropriate part of the text, so I'm going to stop. I haven't even gotten to the palace part of the site, but I'll post all of the pictures I took onto facebook.
After spending a good 5 or 6 hours checking out the sights, we headed back. The train ride back was pretty brutal; a packed train meant standing for the entire 90 minute ride to Daejeon, taking in a variety of smells that Korean people have. At least I still had Vonnegut to keep me occupied.
I went with my coworker Danielle and her boyfriend, Joel. At around 10:30am we took a train from Daejeon to Suwon, which took a little more than an hour. I had the South Korean countryside and Cat's Cradle to help pass the time.
Just so you know a little more about what it is these pictures are of, this is straight from the tourist guide:
The Construction period of Hwaseong was between January 1794 (18th year of King Jeongjo, the 22nd king of the Joseon Dynasty) and September 1796. King Jeongjo moved the tomb of his father, Crown Prince Jangheon from Mt. Baebong in Yangju to Mount Hwa in Suwon and established Yongjusa Temple in this vicinity to pray for the souls of the dead. All the government offices and private houses that had been located under Mount Hwa were moved to the lower part of Mount Paldal and Suwonbu was promoted to Yusubu- it became current Suwon. Hwaseong is known as a masterpiece in the history of fortification. It consists of 41 facilities, however, 7 facilities have not been restored. Hwaseong, constructed about 200 years ago, has the most modern scale and function.
On with the show...
Well this is Paldalmun, one of the four main gates to get into the city that the fortress used to protect. As you can see, now it's sort of an island, around which flows traffic. As the fortress is now, it is the only part that is disconnected. We didn't go into this structure because of the massive amount of traffic at the time.
This is the view after walking along the wall for a couple of hundred feet. The fortress wall is on the right. The flags designate the side of the wall that you are on; red means west. You can see Paldalmun there in the center of the picture.
And here's a shot of what was directly behind me from the previous shot. Walking these stairs got old pretty quickly.
A little higher up, still looking towards Paldalmun. The structure on the right is one of the sentry posts. If you look closely, along the wall there are square holes that look out to the west. These were spots where archers could fire through the wall at their attackers.
This is what awaited us at the top of the initial long climb straight up.
The Bell of Filial Piety.
Seogangdae, a military command point at the summit of Mt. Paldal. On the left is a crossbow tower.
View from Seojangdae, and atop the crossbow tower.
Me, next to a bronze statue of King Jeongjo.I've got a bunch more pictures, but it's a tedious task to upload them onto blogger and drag them to the appropriate part of the text, so I'm going to stop. I haven't even gotten to the palace part of the site, but I'll post all of the pictures I took onto facebook.
After spending a good 5 or 6 hours checking out the sights, we headed back. The train ride back was pretty brutal; a packed train meant standing for the entire 90 minute ride to Daejeon, taking in a variety of smells that Korean people have. At least I still had Vonnegut to keep me occupied.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
tess
Today I had a student lose his mind.
Tess is his name, he is in my phonics class. He's probably about 9 years old, but is the size of a 5 year old. And he might just be bat-shit insane.
It was the second of back to back classes that I have with his class, my last period of the day. The kids were being okay that day, better than usual. They are one of the more energetic classes that I have, but today I managed to focus that energy toward learning by having them play a game in which they spell words on the whiteboard. Toward the end of class I got them back in their seats, which is easier said than done, so that I could give them their vocabulary homework.
As I'm writing the words on the board I hear some commotion behind me, and I turn to see Tess and this other boy in a bit of a scrap. I grab Tess and quickly see that he is having himself one hell of an outburst. So I pick him up and carry him out of the room and toward the Korean counselors. When I get him out there and set him down, I get me a dose of craziness.
Tess is literally drooling from the mouth in rage, fighting with all his might to get back into the room and presumably beat the hell from the other boy. I have to resort to putting this kid into a bear-hug to keep hold of him, and still he is damn near wriggling lose. I turn to the counselors for some sort of help, but they are just staring in amazement at the fit this little shit is having. At one point they bring out the kid Tess was fighting with so he can apologize. This just incites Tess more. I have him around the waist, while he tries to run out of my grasp. I suggest it might be a good idea to get the focus of Tess' convulsions out of his sight.
Still clutching him, I figure Ill let him tire himself out, but that just doesn't happen. At one point he manages to shed the coat that he was wearing and almost gets away; I had to drop to my knees to wrap him up again. I still have my arms wrapped around him, patting his back in an effort to calm him down, but Tess is still drooling furiously.
At this point I am quite tired myself, so I decide to pick him up again and carry him to another room and, I dunno, lock him in there or something. On the way there we bump into one of the Korean teachers, and I happily relinquish control of the child to him. Now the Korean has a grip on him, but not entirely understanding the demonic strength of the boy, the Korean loses Tess momentarily before we manage to pounce on him again.
Probably a good five minutes since I removed him from the classroom, Tess is still going strong. The Korean teachers and counselors are trying to speak to the boy, but Tess continues to just stare at the door of the classroom that houses his enemy, still fighting like a madman to spring loose.
After maybe ten minutes of this, the demon relinquishes control of the child, and we start to get some sort of response from Tess. The Koreans sit him down, talk with him, and give him some water. In time, apologies are made and Tess once again resembles a human child.
A little while later I get the chance to ask the Korean teacher just what the hell it was that set little Tess off. The response I get is less than illuminating: he was insulted.
So that was my day at work. How was yours?
Tess is his name, he is in my phonics class. He's probably about 9 years old, but is the size of a 5 year old. And he might just be bat-shit insane.
It was the second of back to back classes that I have with his class, my last period of the day. The kids were being okay that day, better than usual. They are one of the more energetic classes that I have, but today I managed to focus that energy toward learning by having them play a game in which they spell words on the whiteboard. Toward the end of class I got them back in their seats, which is easier said than done, so that I could give them their vocabulary homework.
As I'm writing the words on the board I hear some commotion behind me, and I turn to see Tess and this other boy in a bit of a scrap. I grab Tess and quickly see that he is having himself one hell of an outburst. So I pick him up and carry him out of the room and toward the Korean counselors. When I get him out there and set him down, I get me a dose of craziness.
Tess is literally drooling from the mouth in rage, fighting with all his might to get back into the room and presumably beat the hell from the other boy. I have to resort to putting this kid into a bear-hug to keep hold of him, and still he is damn near wriggling lose. I turn to the counselors for some sort of help, but they are just staring in amazement at the fit this little shit is having. At one point they bring out the kid Tess was fighting with so he can apologize. This just incites Tess more. I have him around the waist, while he tries to run out of my grasp. I suggest it might be a good idea to get the focus of Tess' convulsions out of his sight.
Still clutching him, I figure Ill let him tire himself out, but that just doesn't happen. At one point he manages to shed the coat that he was wearing and almost gets away; I had to drop to my knees to wrap him up again. I still have my arms wrapped around him, patting his back in an effort to calm him down, but Tess is still drooling furiously.
At this point I am quite tired myself, so I decide to pick him up again and carry him to another room and, I dunno, lock him in there or something. On the way there we bump into one of the Korean teachers, and I happily relinquish control of the child to him. Now the Korean has a grip on him, but not entirely understanding the demonic strength of the boy, the Korean loses Tess momentarily before we manage to pounce on him again.
Probably a good five minutes since I removed him from the classroom, Tess is still going strong. The Korean teachers and counselors are trying to speak to the boy, but Tess continues to just stare at the door of the classroom that houses his enemy, still fighting like a madman to spring loose.After maybe ten minutes of this, the demon relinquishes control of the child, and we start to get some sort of response from Tess. The Koreans sit him down, talk with him, and give him some water. In time, apologies are made and Tess once again resembles a human child.
A little while later I get the chance to ask the Korean teacher just what the hell it was that set little Tess off. The response I get is less than illuminating: he was insulted.
So that was my day at work. How was yours?
Saturday, December 13, 2008
photographs
Guess who finally has internet at his apartment. This guy!
You may be wondering how I passed the time while not having internet readily available. One, I watched my season 1 DVDs of Arrested Development so many times I have it all but memorized; and two, I just might now be the greatest freecell player to ever live, having amassed an astounding 35 wins in a row.
But let's get down to brass tacks here. It's time for pictures:
These are the two Korean beers: Cass and Hite. Notice how if you put them next to each other you can spell the word "shite." I don't think that's an accident.
This is outside my school. Yeah. Cars and buildings. This truly is an exotic land.
So this right here is something that you see on pretty much every block in the city here. In the States, that little candy striped pole that spins around signifies a barber shop. In Korea, it signifies prostitution. They're at massage parlors that double as brothels. And seriously, at least one on every block.
I see a lot of American baseball apparel here (some Yankees and Red Sox hats, but the majority is either A's or White Sox stuff; not sure why), but this was the first I saw of anything Phillies related. It was on a mannequin in an underground mall that I was at today.
How I passed my time in my apartment during the pre-internet era. Cass, and "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia."
This is a picture of me today standing on a street in fuckin' South Korea. Unbelievable. See that jacket? Bought it today at a street market for 10,000 won-- about 7 bucks.
Well, that's a little taste of my surroundings. I have some other pictures that I'll probably put up on facebook sometime soon. Until then, I guess you'll just have to imagine what my kitchen looks like.
You may be wondering how I passed the time while not having internet readily available. One, I watched my season 1 DVDs of Arrested Development so many times I have it all but memorized; and two, I just might now be the greatest freecell player to ever live, having amassed an astounding 35 wins in a row.
But let's get down to brass tacks here. It's time for pictures:
These are the two Korean beers: Cass and Hite. Notice how if you put them next to each other you can spell the word "shite." I don't think that's an accident.
This is outside my school. Yeah. Cars and buildings. This truly is an exotic land.
So this right here is something that you see on pretty much every block in the city here. In the States, that little candy striped pole that spins around signifies a barber shop. In Korea, it signifies prostitution. They're at massage parlors that double as brothels. And seriously, at least one on every block.
I see a lot of American baseball apparel here (some Yankees and Red Sox hats, but the majority is either A's or White Sox stuff; not sure why), but this was the first I saw of anything Phillies related. It was on a mannequin in an underground mall that I was at today.
How I passed my time in my apartment during the pre-internet era. Cass, and "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia."
This is a picture of me today standing on a street in fuckin' South Korea. Unbelievable. See that jacket? Bought it today at a street market for 10,000 won-- about 7 bucks.
Well, that's a little taste of my surroundings. I have some other pictures that I'll probably put up on facebook sometime soon. Until then, I guess you'll just have to imagine what my kitchen looks like.
Monday, December 8, 2008
the job
I'm back in a PC-bang. It's a lot less crowded this time. I suppose that's the difference between midday on a Sunday, and 11pm on a Monday. I reckon this will be the last time I'll have to patronize this place; I'm supposed to be getting internet installed in my apartment tomorrow morning. I'll believe it when I see it.
I haven't given a very good description of my job yet, and seeing as how I came to Korea to work, I figure that should be a vital part of a blog about my experience.
Well, I teach kids that range in age from 6 to 15. The good classes are the ones that are 9 and 10 year olds who have a childrens book that I use to teach them with. They'll go around the room and read the book, then I'll teach them nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, and any other basic grammar concepts. We'll also go over basic comprehension and vocab, and they have a workbook as well that they can do. Those aren't bad.
The bad ones, more specifically the worst one, is the class in which I have 7 twelve year old girls. If you told me to teach 7 twelve year old American girls, I would have no clue how to start or how to get them to listen to a word I say. After being put into a room of 7 twelve year old Korean girls I can now say that I have even less of a clue. The only way that I have figured out to elicit any sort of response from them on any topic, is to talk about how ugly and untalented I think that "Big Bang" (a Korean boy band that is all the rage right now) is, even though I don't know anything about them. So I'll say Big Bang is ugly, they'll say I'm ugly, then I'll make a vain attempt at teaching them how to write a paragraph.
Those are the two extremes. All in all, it's a pretty exhausting day's work (MWF I teach 2:30 to 9:30, T TH 2:30 to 6:30), but, hey, it is a job. And hell, I've only been at this for 6 days; I don't think it's unreasonable to expect things to get better with time.
I haven't given a very good description of my job yet, and seeing as how I came to Korea to work, I figure that should be a vital part of a blog about my experience.
Well, I teach kids that range in age from 6 to 15. The good classes are the ones that are 9 and 10 year olds who have a childrens book that I use to teach them with. They'll go around the room and read the book, then I'll teach them nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, and any other basic grammar concepts. We'll also go over basic comprehension and vocab, and they have a workbook as well that they can do. Those aren't bad.
The bad ones, more specifically the worst one, is the class in which I have 7 twelve year old girls. If you told me to teach 7 twelve year old American girls, I would have no clue how to start or how to get them to listen to a word I say. After being put into a room of 7 twelve year old Korean girls I can now say that I have even less of a clue. The only way that I have figured out to elicit any sort of response from them on any topic, is to talk about how ugly and untalented I think that "Big Bang" (a Korean boy band that is all the rage right now) is, even though I don't know anything about them. So I'll say Big Bang is ugly, they'll say I'm ugly, then I'll make a vain attempt at teaching them how to write a paragraph.
Those are the two extremes. All in all, it's a pretty exhausting day's work (MWF I teach 2:30 to 9:30, T TH 2:30 to 6:30), but, hey, it is a job. And hell, I've only been at this for 6 days; I don't think it's unreasonable to expect things to get better with time.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
bangs
In my habit of starting posts with the word so...
So I've been in Korea for around 10 days now. Not very long, but long enough to encounter certain situations in which I look around at my surroundings and think to myself, "I can't believe I'm in South Korea right now." I'm kind of experiencing one of those moments as I type this; I'm at what's called a "PC-bang." "Bang" in Korean means room, so it's just a huge place where you can come to use a computer for an hourly fee (I think the fee is 1,000 won per hour, which translates to about 68 cents). Other than me, the room consists of maybe 100 Korean teenagers who are playing video games and chain smoking. It's a scene, man.
On Friday night I went out with some co-workers. We first went to restuarant, where I had my first, and hopefully last, encounter with "soju." Soju is the drink that Koreans drink to get stupid, and it tastes bloody terrible. It's what'd I'd imagine Victory Gin tastes like. Not even the Koreans who will drink it relentlessly actually like it; every time I've seen somebody drink it the reaction is the same: their face twists in agony for 2 seconds, followed by a guttural "Eeeuuugh!" sound.
After putting back a couple of drinks, I was taken to a place called a nori-bang, or something like that. Essentially it's a karaoke room that you can rent, and you and your friends can drink all you want a sing karaoke. Anyone who knows me well would probably think that this is the last place I would like to go, and you're right, but it turned out to be a pretty fun time. And let me tell you something: you haven't lived until you've seen two drunk Korean girls singing "You're the Only One for Me" by Brian McKnight. Definitely a "I can't believe I'm in South Korea" moment.
Hopefully I'll get internet installed in my apartment tomorrow. It'll be nice to get to use a computer for a couple of hours and not smell like a bowling alley afterwards.
So I've been in Korea for around 10 days now. Not very long, but long enough to encounter certain situations in which I look around at my surroundings and think to myself, "I can't believe I'm in South Korea right now." I'm kind of experiencing one of those moments as I type this; I'm at what's called a "PC-bang." "Bang" in Korean means room, so it's just a huge place where you can come to use a computer for an hourly fee (I think the fee is 1,000 won per hour, which translates to about 68 cents). Other than me, the room consists of maybe 100 Korean teenagers who are playing video games and chain smoking. It's a scene, man.
On Friday night I went out with some co-workers. We first went to restuarant, where I had my first, and hopefully last, encounter with "soju." Soju is the drink that Koreans drink to get stupid, and it tastes bloody terrible. It's what'd I'd imagine Victory Gin tastes like. Not even the Koreans who will drink it relentlessly actually like it; every time I've seen somebody drink it the reaction is the same: their face twists in agony for 2 seconds, followed by a guttural "Eeeuuugh!" sound.
After putting back a couple of drinks, I was taken to a place called a nori-bang, or something like that. Essentially it's a karaoke room that you can rent, and you and your friends can drink all you want a sing karaoke. Anyone who knows me well would probably think that this is the last place I would like to go, and you're right, but it turned out to be a pretty fun time. And let me tell you something: you haven't lived until you've seen two drunk Korean girls singing "You're the Only One for Me" by Brian McKnight. Definitely a "I can't believe I'm in South Korea" moment.
Hopefully I'll get internet installed in my apartment tomorrow. It'll be nice to get to use a computer for a couple of hours and not smell like a bowling alley afterwards.
Friday, December 5, 2008
hit 'em up
So every Korean student has an English name at this school, or at any English private school (called "hogwans") like mine. They get their name either by picking it themselves, or a teacher giving them one.
Most kids are your generic English names: Sally, Jacob, Jack, Claire. However, one student of mine has a name that rises above the rest. His name is Tupac. He insisted on it.
That, friends and neighbors, is what we in the biz call an "Automatic A+."
Most kids are your generic English names: Sally, Jacob, Jack, Claire. However, one student of mine has a name that rises above the rest. His name is Tupac. He insisted on it.
That, friends and neighbors, is what we in the biz call an "Automatic A+."
Thursday, December 4, 2008
quick update about lack of updates
So I've moved into my new apartment. It's small, but for a guy who lived in a medium sized closet for a year, it's more than enough.
I haven't gotten internet installed there yet, which is why I haven't been able to write much here. My only access to the internet right now is at my school, and my access there is limited. I've been pestering some people about getting internet soon, and I hope to have it all set up by this weekend. Hopefully.
Once I do have it, you can all look forward to pictures of the squalor that surrounds me, as well as expositions on the merits of westernized fast food in South Korea.
If that isn't a teaser for things to come, I don't know what is.
Annyeong haseyo.
I haven't gotten internet installed there yet, which is why I haven't been able to write much here. My only access to the internet right now is at my school, and my access there is limited. I've been pestering some people about getting internet soon, and I hope to have it all set up by this weekend. Hopefully.
Once I do have it, you can all look forward to pictures of the squalor that surrounds me, as well as expositions on the merits of westernized fast food in South Korea.
If that isn't a teaser for things to come, I don't know what is.
Annyeong haseyo.
Friday, November 28, 2008
obama good?
Yesterday I was sitting in on one of the classes I'll be taking over next week. The kids were, of course, very curious about the new "Teacher Sim" and were asking me questions like how old I was and where I'm from. After I respond to the latter by writing "USA" on the whiteboard, one of the young boys, probably 8 or 9 years old, gets my attention and says, "Obama good?" While my knee-jerk reaction to the question was to say something like, "Well, young man, that depends on if he will be a vanguard for the working man or if he will just kowtow to corporate power," I instead decided to keep it simple and replied, "Obama good."
As far as the job goes: I have no clue what the hell I'm going to be doing. I haven't received an ounce of actual training, I don't know what to teach, and even if I did I don't know how to teach it. I knew to expect primarily on-the-job training, but on Monday at 2:30pm Korea time, I'm going to walk into a classroom of ten Korean children and be expected to teach them...something.
As far as the job goes: I have no clue what the hell I'm going to be doing. I haven't received an ounce of actual training, I don't know what to teach, and even if I did I don't know how to teach it. I knew to expect primarily on-the-job training, but on Monday at 2:30pm Korea time, I'm going to walk into a classroom of ten Korean children and be expected to teach them...something.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
remember that time sim went to korea?
Safe in Korea. The flights were, well, awful, but that's to be expected. Aside from a couple of panic attacks during the flight to Tokyo I've been in good shape.
When I got to Tokyo, I may have had the most terrifying experience of life. You see, in Philly, I asked the lady at the check-in desk if I would have to pickup my luggage anywhere, or if it would make it to Seoul without me having to do anything. She told me that I wouldn't have to do anything in Texas, but that yes, in Tokyo I would have to get it. So, upon arrival in Tokyo I go through customs and immigration and a bunch of other nonsense that results in me getting a 90 day visa to stay in Japan, when all I want to do is get to the baggage pick-up area. I finally get all of that taken care of and navigate my way to the correct baggage claim and wouldn't you know it, my bag doesn't come out. I'm just standing there sweating bullets, nervous as all hell, wondering how in the world I'm going to find some one who speaks English to ask about this and still make my connecting flight to Seoul, and all the while there's some guy with a drug sniffing dog walking around me letting the dog take a few whiffs. I guess being a young American sweating nervously at the baggage claim area is a red flag for those guys.
Long story short, I find an English speaker at the baggage assistance counter and she assures me my bag will be waiting for me in Seoul, which it was.
Before I came here I had read that Koreans are compassionate towards outsiders and can show extraordinary random acts of kindness to them. I wasn't in their country for more than 10 minutes before I experienced this first hand. When I got on the bus that would take me from Seoul to my city of Daejeon, I was a little worried about which stop to get off at; I knew it was called "Dong-bu" but I wasn't sure how I was going to know when I was there. When the bus driver came around to take my ticket I pointed at myself and said, "Dong-bu" in hopes that he would understand what I was getting at, but he didn't. There was a 20 something year old Korean guy sitting in front of me who spoke English, and he told me he would help me. After about a 2.5 hour bus ride, my Korean friend had to get off, but before he did he told me how many more stops I had to wait until I got off, told the bus driver to make sure I got off at the right stop, and gave me his name and phone number to call him if anything went wrong.
I experienced more unsolicited kindness when I got off at my stop. My ride was not there yet, so I went to a phone booth to call him and let him know I was there. Another Korean guy saw me at the phone staring at it like an idiot and stopped and told m what to do to make it work. I talked to my ride who told me he was on his way, and the Korean guy who helped me stood there with me until the guy showed up.
I guess that's about all I have to say, or rather that's all I feel like typing right now. I get only two days of training and then I begin teaching on Monday, and my apartment isn't ready until this weekend so I'm living in my head teacher's spare room until then. I'm scared, nervous, and lonely, but I just keep telling myself to breathe.
When I got to Tokyo, I may have had the most terrifying experience of life. You see, in Philly, I asked the lady at the check-in desk if I would have to pickup my luggage anywhere, or if it would make it to Seoul without me having to do anything. She told me that I wouldn't have to do anything in Texas, but that yes, in Tokyo I would have to get it. So, upon arrival in Tokyo I go through customs and immigration and a bunch of other nonsense that results in me getting a 90 day visa to stay in Japan, when all I want to do is get to the baggage pick-up area. I finally get all of that taken care of and navigate my way to the correct baggage claim and wouldn't you know it, my bag doesn't come out. I'm just standing there sweating bullets, nervous as all hell, wondering how in the world I'm going to find some one who speaks English to ask about this and still make my connecting flight to Seoul, and all the while there's some guy with a drug sniffing dog walking around me letting the dog take a few whiffs. I guess being a young American sweating nervously at the baggage claim area is a red flag for those guys.
Long story short, I find an English speaker at the baggage assistance counter and she assures me my bag will be waiting for me in Seoul, which it was.
Before I came here I had read that Koreans are compassionate towards outsiders and can show extraordinary random acts of kindness to them. I wasn't in their country for more than 10 minutes before I experienced this first hand. When I got on the bus that would take me from Seoul to my city of Daejeon, I was a little worried about which stop to get off at; I knew it was called "Dong-bu" but I wasn't sure how I was going to know when I was there. When the bus driver came around to take my ticket I pointed at myself and said, "Dong-bu" in hopes that he would understand what I was getting at, but he didn't. There was a 20 something year old Korean guy sitting in front of me who spoke English, and he told me he would help me. After about a 2.5 hour bus ride, my Korean friend had to get off, but before he did he told me how many more stops I had to wait until I got off, told the bus driver to make sure I got off at the right stop, and gave me his name and phone number to call him if anything went wrong.
I experienced more unsolicited kindness when I got off at my stop. My ride was not there yet, so I went to a phone booth to call him and let him know I was there. Another Korean guy saw me at the phone staring at it like an idiot and stopped and told m what to do to make it work. I talked to my ride who told me he was on his way, and the Korean guy who helped me stood there with me until the guy showed up.
I guess that's about all I have to say, or rather that's all I feel like typing right now. I get only two days of training and then I begin teaching on Monday, and my apartment isn't ready until this weekend so I'm living in my head teacher's spare room until then. I'm scared, nervous, and lonely, but I just keep telling myself to breathe.
Monday, November 24, 2008
itinerary
Depart: Philadelphia Int'l Airport 6:10AM Nov 25
Arrive: Dallas Fort Worth Int'l Airport 9:05AM Nov 25
Mileage: 1297
Travel Time: 3:55
Depart: Dallas Fort Worth Int'l Airport 10:10AM Nov 25
Arrive: Tokyo Narita Airport 2:40PM Nov 26
Mileage: 6437
Travel Time: 13:30
Depart: Tokyo Narita Airport 4:25PM Nov 26
Arrive: Seoul Incheon Int'l Airport 7:10PM Nov 26
Mileage: 759
Travel Time: 2:45
Total Mileage: 8493
Total Travel Time: 20:10
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