Alphabet Soup

I have recently done something that has way improved my life in Korea. I learned the Korean alphabet.

Korean characters, unlike the ones used in English, make the same sound everytime you see them. Although I am now reading at a first-grade level (or lower,) at least I am reading. I can sound out most words I see. This does not mean I will understand the words I am reading, but I can sound out words and this has revolutionized my life here.

I have learned a lot of the words for foods I like, and even know the words for many foods I have never tried. Now, when I walk into a restaurant I can read a menu and realize what most things are. This means a lot of menus around Korea have gone from two or three items I know how to order to twenty or thirty. This really opens up my options.

I have also realized that many words are very similar to their English counterparts. On my walk to work I read words all the time that are easily translatable for me. Some examples of groups of symbols I have walked by for months that have now become words to me: piano, Americano (in the coffeeshop - most of the words on a coffeshop menu make sense to me when I sound them out,) supermarket, chocolate, and many many others. To be honest, I get a thrill and a sense of accomplishment when I read a word. Until now, I have felt like a small child wandering into the middle of a movie with no idea of what is going on, but now I kinda know what is going on.

Speaking of movies, there are lots of English movies and TV shows on my TV. Generally, the titles are written in Korean in the corner of the screen. I enjoy trying to figure out what movie is on by reading the words before I figure out what movie it is by the images.

I have even encountered some Korean words that I have learned just from living here, and now I read them on signs or storefronts and can figure out what I am looking at. The word "hof" loosely translates to "bar." Not all bars are labeled with the English translation, "hof," but now that I can read it, I know where they are. Same goes for singing rooms. They are called "noraebongs" in this country and I just realized that a few of the buildings in my neighborhood are these kind of establishments.

This has also helped me with my job. I understand my kids better and the problems they have in the classroom. There is only one character in Korean for an L/R sound. Kids are always messing up these two letters and I get it now - I know a little better how to fix their problems.

I feel smarter and more in control of my destiny over here now. I am still functionally retarded when it comes to communicating in Korean, but now I have a little insight into what's going on around me.

This might all sound cheesy, but it is incredibly frustrating to be illiterate. I am still a foriegner, I am still an outsider, but now I have a little more access to things in this country.

Life is looking up (plus I got some this weekend, which always helps.)

Much love from Seoul

Buddha's Birthday

I get a day off work this week in celebration of Buddha's Birthday. I spent my afternoon in Insadong checking out festivities geared towards this celebration. I watched a parade, some sort of martial arts that was pretty hardcore (they were kicking eachother in the faces,) and ogled the many lanterns hanging around town. I haven't posted many pictures lately, so I thought I'd post some pics of Korea - she was very photogenic today...

The top pic is taken at a temple that I took photos of a while ago and posted. It's the same temple, but it looked much more festive today. These lanterns created a kind of ceiling between the temple grounds entrance and the actual temple. I thought they looked cool.

I like the second pic above a lot. This statue of Buddha is more like the Buddha you would see in a Disney movie and less like the Buddha that is usually represented in Asia. People were putting money in his hand and a woman was putting it in a slot that is just below the bottom of this photo. Someone must have thought Buddha also looked thirsty, hence the water bottle set at his feet.

So, I kept waiting for this girl to get out of the way before I took a picture of this lit Buddha-balloon landscape, but when she struck this contemplative pose, I felt she was the perfect addition to my picture. Her mom kept telling her to get out of the way too, but I think the picture is actually enhanced with her presence.

Above is a picture of the parade. These ladies were pretty in pink. The picture doesn't do them justice, but they were wearing more makeup than a clown at a Mary Kay party. They even painted on side-burns (which kind of weirded me out - I don't really get the signifigance of adding facial har to a feminine face.)

This last pic is actually the first pic I took today. I took the long train ride to Insadong from my place. For parts of the ride you are above ground - and it was hard for me to look at the skyline because the sun was shining so brightly. When I finally got to Insadong, the weather had taken a 180-degree turn - it was pouring. Fortunately for me, it didn't rain long. I started to walk towards Insadong after a stop-off at the bookstore (I bought the Lonely Planet guides to Belgium and Amsterdam) and I encountered one of the most beautiful rainbows I have ever seen. I think it was a solid combo of sunny skies, a lot of moisture in the air post-rain and one of the smoggiest atmospheres in the world that helped create this natural wonder. I took four different pictures and still don't feel like I fully captured the beauty of the rainbow (it was showing every color, like a fucking bag of skittles) but I did my best. If you look close, you can see the rainbow arcing over this pagoda.

If you're in the market for a new background to your desktop, may I suggest you enlarge the first photo and set it as your background. It will do wonders for your Karma...

I feel that if Buddha's birthday was celebrated in the States, I would celebrate a little differently, but for the time being, I'll take the day I had.

Much Love from Seoul, and happy birthday Buddha!

Bubble Boy

This is one of those thoughts that has bouncing around inside my head for a while and I haven't been totally sure how to express it. My thoughts aren't very well organized in my head, so I'm just gonna start ranting and hope by the end they make sense to me and you...

I don't talk to very many people in Korea. The majority of the people that I come in contact with on the streets and in stores don't speak my language. When I first arrived I would make an attempt to converse with people, but as time has passed, I find it much easier to leave my iPod headphones in my ears and just stay in my own little bubble. I have found that transactions actually run smoother when I take language out of them.

When I'm not on the city streets, I am one of two places: school or home.

At school, I walk in the door and head to the computer room where I check my e-mail or see how my fantasy baseball team is doing. I might have a conversation or two with my fellow foreign teachers, but not much. I find myself forcing conversations with the Korean teachers because I want to get to know them better and I am desparate for conversation, but I find we don't have a lot of common ground. I want to talk about a new band or tell an anecdote that I find hilarious and they want to talk about Korean fashion or "Friends." They're not to into the music I like and oftentimes, my sense of humor gets lost somewhere in translation. And I don't give two shits about Korean fashion or "Friends." The other side of this is that I teach in forty minute increments, with short five-minute breaks in between. Five minutes isn't really enough time to have a long detailed conversation and really express thoughts. It's basically enough time to get your books ready for the next class, tell a few jokes and be on your way.

Where I really get a chance to talk to people that speak my language is within the classroom. The kids are forced to speak English and they are stuck with me for forty minutes. My main conversation partners are children between the ages of 6-13 that speak English as a second language. Now that I write that and realize it, that's pretty fucked up. However, we do get to have a myriad of different, insightful conversations. We talk about pets, weather, colors, furniture, family members, how to tell time, numbers, sports and all sorts of other neat-o things.

In all seriousness, I think this is why I have grown such a fond attachment to some of my students. They are the people in Korea that I talk to the most. Even if we don't talk about real things, I do see many of them every day. I can tell what kind of mood they are in and they tell me little stories about their lives (even though sometimes I have no clue what the hell they are talking about) and I nod and smile and encourage them to speak English. Some of my classes have diaries and they write real personal entries. I read a diary at work yesterday of a girl I have taught for a while discussing her grandfather's death. She doesn't speak great English, but I could decipher most of what she was trying to say ("Today was a sadder day." - I've been on her about using the past tense in her diary and I think she tried to make "sad" past tense.) I can relate to her, because I am human and I can relate to her human emotion of sadness. I miss those emotional connections that I have with people back home. Without having people to talk to, the little times where things aren't going so great, become terrible. I think we all need outlets when shit's going down, and I don't feel like I have those outlets over here. Human emotions are meant to be shared - they just don't mean as much if you have no one to share them with.

There is one conversation partner that has been absent from this blogging: me. Like I said, when I'm not on the streets, I am either at school or home. At home, I've got me to talk to. I spend massive amounts of time alone, which is kind of weird. I don't think I'm turning into Ted Kaczynski or anything, but I have questioned my sanity a few times. I do find myself talking aloud to myself.

I read the "Dharma Bums" by Kerouac when I got to Korea, and there was a line that I underlined when I was reading it that I thought I should take to heart in my time here. In the story, Kerouac is being driven up a mountain, where he will sit at the top and look for wildfires. He will be totally alone for months, at the top of Desolation Peak, with his only human contact being a radio call once a day to say there are no fires. There is an old man named Happy driving him up the mountain and he offers some advice to Jack about his time alone. Jack is saying how excited he is to go it alone for awhile, just as I was when I came to Korea, and Happy says, "You're saying that now but you'll change your tune soon enough. They all talk brave. But then you get to talkin to yourself. That ain't so bad but don't start answering yourself, son." For some reason, I feel like this is a measure of my sanity. I allow myself to speak aloud to myself, but I make sure I'm not answering my own questions. The last thing I need is to come home with a split personality disorder.

A big part of the reason I left America on this journey was to become more self-reliant. I wanted to take myself totally out of my comfort zone and force myself to make it on my own for a little while. All in all, I am loving it, but the loneliness I would encounter was not something I fully appreciated until I was alone in Asia for eight and a half months.

For now, I'll just keep cruising through Korea in my bubble and keep getting to know Kyle a little better. I'm not that bad of a dude to hang out with. And neither am I.

Much love from Seoul

Sexual Harassment

I've been geared up all week to write an extensive account of our Cinco de Mayo festival in the alley behind our building last weekend, but something so ludicrous happened at work today that I feel like it has gained priority and I need to share it.

We all had to come into work early today to watch a sexual harassment video. The video viewing was mandated by the Korean Ministry of Labor. The reason for the mandate was explained as follows: "There was an incident with a woman who no longer works with us. She reported an incident to the Ministry of Labor...and...and...it's complicated." Through word of mouth I have heard the woman was one of the "helper" teachers who essentially work at our school for twenty minutes a day, directing the kindergarteners to the buses and riding in the bus with them home. I know no more.

It seems fair to assume that the incident would involve one of the old Korean men who drive the buses, but they were not in attendance at the viewing. Also, if the gossip is true, it seems like the "helper" ladies should have been in attendance as well. They were not.

All of us teachers, both foreign and Korean, piled into a room at 2:30 to watch a short video which would hopefully explain to us the harms of sexual harassment (or give us pointers as I had hoped.) The mood was anything but professional. I witnessed (and took part in) more sexual harassment in the thirty minutes in the classroom than I have seen or heard in my eight months here.

There were numerous problems with the dvd/computer setup, which gave us more time to sexually harass each other. I suggested we do some role playing on stage. I asked some of my co-workers if they wanted to make out during the movie. We talked about butt-touching, boob-staring, penis-licking, etc.

The video was scheduled for 2:30 so we could all be in class by 3:00 when most classes start. The setup finally got up and going at about 2:58. We sat in the dark and made crass comments while a Korean woman on screen spoke Korean. The only thing I understood on the screen was "annyong haseo" at the very beginning which means "hello." The rest of the time, I listened to the incredibly inappropriate comments that were being made throughout the audience. It was actually a really fun, bonding experience for the lot of us. The video was on for just long enough to take pictures to send to the Ministry of Labor and then we were all out of there in time to teach class.

I was amazed a the encounter for a few reasons. In the States, I feel like a claim of sexual harassment would be taken very seriously, but here, it was laughable to all parties involved. I was also amazed at the willingness to laugh in the government's face. They mandated we watch a video to fix our behavior, but they had us all sign the paper and get the hell out of there as soon as there was photo evidence of the viewing taking place. They can't tell us what to do. We shalln't respect their authoritie.

I dig this country and its willingness to allow boob-staring in the workplace...

Much Love from Seoul

Rules Rule

Ever since I was a young lad, I have been pathologically anti-authority. I always question the establishment and think I am smarter than the people in charge. I think many Americans are the same way. We are brought up aware of the pitfalls of mindlessly following our leaders without using our own brains (see: Hilter, Adolph, "1984," by George Orwell, the Enron Corporation, the Iraq War, any song by Green Day, etc.)

Koreans do not think the same way. They love rules. The phrase "thinking out of the box" does not exist in this country. There aren't very many risks taken in this country. Every neighborhood looks the same. Every building looks the same. The insides of buildings look the same. I find it quite astonishing the minimal amount of diversity I encounter in a city of this size. In actuality, it is baffling.

People in this country need the rules tell them how to behave. There are little cultural guidelines on how to behave in almost every situation. I feel like everything in this country is all just pomp and circumstance. People don't always say what they feel - they generally say what they feel is the right thing to say.

As I walk the streets of Seoul, I am constantly surrounded by rule-followers.

The other day, as I was walking to work, I was crossing a crosswalk. This is a crosswalk I cross virtually every day. The little green man on the sign was beckoning me to cross the street, but as soon as I began to cross, a red man appeared on the sign as my green friend disapeared, warning me that the time to cross was over. I know this intersection well enough to know that there is about a 20-second buffer from the time when the crosswalk turns red to the time when the actual light turns red. I had plenty of time to cross the street without any real danger of being hit by a car, so I went ahead and began to cross anyway.

A girl was running across the street towards me as the light changed (people always run through crosswalks and up to crosswalks. God forbid getting caught in the street while the light is red. This is not 'Nam - there are rules!) The girl that was running screamed "Hey!" and grabbed me. She pointed at the little red man and looked at me like I was crazy.

There was a geniune look of dread on her face. She saw this foreign person who was about to commit suicide. No one in Korea has ever been daring enough to cross on a red. I could tell she thought I was stupid. Why else would I be in the street while the little red man looks down on me with shame? It was her duty to point me in the right direction - back to the side of the street from whence I came. She was doing her one good deed for the day; she was saving my life.

I said, "Thank you," and proceeded to cross the street. I think her first inclination was to call an ambulance to scrape my body off of the street. Then when I fully crossed the street with my body still intact, I think she wanted to call the police. How dare a foreigner come to Korea and break the rules.

The 60's never happened in Korea. Anti-establishment is a nonsensical term in this land and that is something that I have trouble dealing with over here. Fuck Authority...

Much Love from Seoul