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
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
posted by Kyle at 2:35 PM
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