Christmas!

I had pie and coffee for breakfast. Day old pie, a day later, to be exact. I'm milking this Klosterman novel, going for the slow read because I don't know when my book supply will be replenished. Finding a book in English is like finding a pot of gold in these parts. I heard that Amazon ships to South Korea, so that's encouraging. This week was the week of friends, limited sleep and Christmas. The Seosanites came down to Daecheon to spend Christmas with me, but mainly to use my oven. I didn't mind. Brenden and Carissa got a care package from home with corn syrup (nonexistent here) and we decided to make pie, cookies, chicken and marshmallow covered yams. Delightful. In all seriousness, I had a blast. It was nice to share my apartment with some fellow mee-guks (Caucasian people in Korean) and have conversations that moved beyond my age and MLB teams.

This was a carefully coordinated effort, involving several trips to the grocery store, an hour long bus ride, every pot and pan that I own, and another hour long bus trip home to Seosan. This was my first white Christmas and my first Christmas without Mom, Dad and Angela. Well, almost. We skyped Christmas morning at 7am, but my pirated reception vanished about fifteen minutes into the convo. Anyway, B, C, and Will came up at about 11am with pie tins, sugar and corn syrup. We dashed over to E-Mart, which is a stone's throw away from the bus station, bought about 100,000 won worth of materials (we had just gotten paid) and cabbed home to my meticulously clean apartment. See, we had had these plans for about a solid week and this was really the first event I had hosted at my apartment, so about 24 hours before their arrival, my cleaning neurosis kicked in. I was a man obsessed; the windows were smudgeless, the bathroom was well-ordered, my bed was made, the floor was swept--there was no room for criticism in this apartment on this day. No, no, no. I believed the word I used to describe it was "baller."

So, apart from Operation Spotless, I really had nothing to do with the actual production of Christmas dinner. I remember at one point being asked to mince garlic and I stood there with a kitchen knife and a vacant look and I think they got the message that I hadn't done this before. Brenden and Will's comments were far from gentle, but in a trial by fire, I minced my first clove of garlic (seeing as I didn't have a garlic press). We showered the bird with copious sage and rosemary and stuffed the insides with onions, potatoes and more garlic. On to the yams. Will, apparently, is an avid yam enthusiast. But the vindication was in the pudding--the yams were delicious. Something about orange zest.

Carissa made the walnut pie from her mom's pecan pie recipe (Pecans are like nut-shaped diamonds here; they are about double the cost of walnuts. Teachers on a budget opt vote for walnuts.) The walnut pie turned out really well. Kudos, Carissa. And the peanut butter Hershey kiss cookies held the same merit. Brenden and I enjoyed our cups of home brewed Starbucks coffee--I think self-imported by Brenden--and we feasted. Now, some of you might think to yourselves, Drew? Eating chicken? Yes, I have conceded to carnivorousness. Everything here, and I mean everything, has meat in it. Vegetables? How about some cow's blood on top of that? Sauces? Let's put a healthy portion of pig's blood in that! And for the main course, why not make it meat. Just meat. Maybe throw some salt on it for flavor. But, for those who believe I'm absolutely soulless and hypocritical, (a) I don't fault you and (b) when I'm cooking for myself, I'm strictly veg.

Moving on, I can't say enough about this Christmas. Despite the absence of my family, I'd say this was one of the most memorable Christmases I've had. As a bonus, I got to share some leftover cookies with my co-teachers--who, in all likelihood, had never had peanut butter before (George Washington Carver didn't winter in SoKo.)--and they absolutely loved them.

Unfortunately, I had to go into work on Friday. After only a few hours of sleep, I had to throw together a lesson plan--something about the countries in the world--and search for hours on end for an online stream of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" with Korean subtitles. Oh-fer-headache. Five classes later, I grabbed dinner with my co-teacher and we went down to the icy beach for some coffee. It was fun. Today is laundry day. Wish me luck. I'll need it.

"They've all gone to look for America..."

Well, for starters, I had a blast this weekend. An anonymous unfortunate friend drank too much--arguably two--and an evening with no expectations turned out to be spectacular. Friday after school, I took the express bus to Seosan (it took about 50 minutes), arrived, and had dinner with Will and his co-teachers. It was a fun night: I saw octopi boiled alive, shrimp (actually prawns) the size of my forearm, and made delightful conversation with Jenny and Yuni. But the fun didn't stop there. Several bottles of soju later, we sauntered over to CC Bar. The outside was ornamented with nothing more than the normal, Korean-style neon lights, but walking inside was like stepping into the underbelly of faux-America. I had, indeed, come to look for America and I may have actually found my post-modern E-merica. Americana signs, Jack Daniels posters, wooden carved Indian heads, and a pool table! All the artifacts of an American dive bar, yet, no real acknowledgement of the cultural "meaning" of behind the artifacts. Snapshots of America, with no discernable story. Surprisingly, although I knew it was faux-America, it still made me feel that much closer to home. Because sometimes the things that seem the most commonplace, the most taken for granted, are the least real.

We got some street food from a vendor that Will calls "Mama" and then retired at a reasonable hour. The next day was going to be a long one. We took the express bus to Seoul and chatted about inappropriate subject matter on a crowded bus. This is one of the nice things about speaking English in a predominantly non-English speaking country: This is what I'll coin the "talking money in public" advantage. When you live in the sticks, most Koreans can speak some English (This can range from two or three words to limited conversation), some Koreans can speak a lot of English (They can hold okay conversation.), but almost no Koreans can speak really good English. Now, this isn't meant as a slight, this has just been my observation over the past month. So, you can probably see where I'm going with this. Will and I can talk about virtually whatever we want as long as we say it quickly and deemphasize diction. We arrived in Seoul and I bought a copy of The Office, Season Four (the legality of it's copyright needn't be discussed) and a "Burberry" scarf from Itaewon (again, the legality of...). We also visited the American Embassy and by the American Embassy, I mean Starbucks. This was actually sort of creepy. Not only was the place packed with about sixty percent Americans, but I entered the storefront and forgot I was in Korea. It was like I was Captain Kirk on the planet, Xandar, ran into some photon fire and got teleported back to the Enterprise. Not exactly. But sorta. In a dream-like state, I looked into the eyes of the barista and instinctively began motor-mouthing my order in English. After seeing that same face turn sour and dumbfounded, I then stopped, blushed and reordered in Korean. Rookie mistake.

We took the subway to Insa-dong, which a few small shops and was devoid of English, for the most part. Side note: From everything I had heard of Itaewon, it was supposed to be this foreigner's mecca. Signs in English, clothing and shoe stores with larger sizes- I heard it was America-town, the way we would see Korea-town back home. No such deal. I still liked it a lot, but it seems that Subway and Starbucks are the only America in Itaewon. The rest is just hype. Although, maybe I'm wrong. I was only there for an hour or two. Itaewon deserves a second or twenty-fifth visit. Back to Insa-dong. Insa-dong was a very well-manicured, sort of non-pretentiously upscale piece of Seoul that I think I'd like to revisit. They had lots of pottery and Korean masks (of course, to ward of the ghosts and evil spirits).

We got home later on and went to a party at Will and Brenden's favorite bar. There was a cover, but the post-cover drinks were free. I drink my Long-Islands from a paper cup. That was loads of fun, but beyond that, I can't mention any details in a forum this public. Stopped by Mama's again. Then played a few rounds of pool at CC's and went home. The next day, I would miss the last bus getting home, ask my recruiter for a favor and sleep that night for twelve or so hours.

I came into work at noon today, much to the grief of Brenden and Will. It's a long story, but I wasn't late. Soon.

Oh, and this is my classroom.

The Baekju Kingdom still lives within all of us. Even if we haven't heard of it yet.

I learned the Korean alphabet this evening. I spent some time at Vitamin's house. This isn't his Christian name, but his self-assigned English name. The etymology isn't particularly important. But that isn't the beginning to this story.

I have been beaten senseless by this cold virus. My head is groggy and my body weary. I've been on a steady diet of Simon and Garfunkel, kimchi, and Chuck Klosterman. Yeah, I've been reading that new Klosterman novel that Angela gave me. It's inspired. I enjoy it. This weekend I pretty much just stayed in, consumed copious amounts of vitamin C and Klosterman's inspired prose. This week is final exam week, which basically means I sit in my office and surf the internet from sun up to sun down and pretend like I'm doing something productive. All and all, I can't complain. On Monday, Sang Don (my co-teacher) and I made the 2-hour eastbound trek to Daejeon- the capital of our province. We visited the immigration office to get my Alien ID card. Complications followed. The clerk told us that my health check was incomplete and I needed to have another urine drug test. The word Sang Don kept using was "inconvenient." I agreed. So, we drove the two hours home. I would go to the clinic two days later to get the other test, which takes 4 days to process, all the while, Immigration still has my bloody passport. I'm not surprised, just a little disconcerted. Moving on.

On Tuesday, a group of teachers invited me on a field trip to Buyeo (pronounced Boo-yo) to visit the old capital of the Baekju kingdom. The Baekju kingdom ruled the southwestern part (where we are) for a good thousand years and was then overthrown by the Shilla kingdom of eastern Korea. I forgot most of the details, but there is a legend that sparked my interest. Okay, back up. Apparently the king of the Shilla kingdom conspired with the Chinese(?) to overthrow the king of the Baekju kingdom, but this is still widely disputed depending on which part of the country you're from. Maybe it was the Japanese. Okay, I officially can't remember. Anyway, when the invading country laid siege to Sabi (now Buyeo), the capital city, the king's concubines evaded infidelity to their king by jumping off of a highest rock in the kingdom. Considering Korea is mostly mountain ranges, this rock had a steep and long drop off. There were about 3,000 concubines that voluntarily plummeted to their death. Sad.

So we went on this never ending hike up this mountain, visited a few temples at the summit and few museums on the way home. It was a good trip. Really no anecdotes, but I had a good time and learned a lot (and apparently forgot most of it). We got back at about dinner time, which was convenient because I had an engagement with a teacher and her daughter. Now, this isn't what you're thinking. Although, what you're thinking is probably more similar to what Mrs. Kim initially thought than what actually panned out. Ever since I started working at my school, Ms. Kim has incessantly hinted that she wanted me to meet her daughter. I ambivalently decided to appease her and go through with it, playing the dumb card--the vacant foreigner that doesn't realize the implications of meeting one's daughter. Despite my fears, it actually turned out decently. Daughter had a boyfriend. I made it clear that I wasn't looking. And I just chatted with the mom the whole time. Meanwhile, I got a tour of a new part of town and a free meal. Everybody wins. Particularly me. She introduced me to a pretty cliche, yet reminiscent of home, coffee shop. I made the mistake of ordering a double and was up until 1am. Live and learn. Well, maybe not learn.

I walked the mile back home from downtown and realized why I hadn't seen anybody my age yet. I never go out past eight. On my walk home, I must have seen a hundred kids my age swarming to local bars and keeping warm in Korean style restaurants. And then it occurred to me: Maybe I'm not my age. At least not here. I prefer an early bedtime and quiet evenings with books, close friends and green tea. Then again, I think drinking whiskey in noisy bars has an irreplaceable allure too. Eh. Who knows.

So, today I went to Vitamin's house for dinner and an English/Korean exchange with he and his two daughters. They are seriously the two cutest specimens ever. One is 9. The other is 11. Both a little shy and the eleven-year-old knows far more English. We played English bingo and I asked them arduous questions about the weather and their favorite subjects in school. The younger one was showing defeat, so I relented. We had pizza (which oddly enough came with Denny's size fries as a topping) and it was delicious. I toiled over Korean consonant and vowel pronunciations. Ta and 'Ta. There is a difference; it just isn't discernible to me. Ick. I'll never learn Korean. And it will be from lack of trying, I fear. Anyway. I'm off. My internet is still fleeting, so I'll add pictures next time.

Daecheon Beach and Boryeong-si.

This morning, I woke up without an alarm. 8 o'clock sharp. I had a brief conversation with mom via the internets and decided to explore Boryeong a little bit. I was determined to visit Daecheon Beach, despite the 10 km commute. (I was tempted to convert that into miles for the American types, but miles don't exist here. Neither do gallons or dollars or Fahrenheits. Considering this is an account of South Korea, I will uphold the integrity of its measuring systems. You may refer to the following to assist you in your conversions: 1 mile=1.61 km; 1 lb=2.2 kg; F=9/5C + 32; $1=1,375 won [today].) I first walked down the main road, which I believe is named Boryeongno. I crossed the bridge that separates the new side of town from the old side of town. I live in the new side of town--but keep your shirt on--the new side of town is pretty much just apartment buildings and a few grocery stores.

About twenty-five years ago, there was the apartment building boom/craze in all of SoKo. This happened for a few reasons: (a) Because mountains consume most of the Korean landscape, there is very limited space for habitation, so this is why you see dense urban centers in podunk towns like mine; (b) Korea has a very trendy culture that is obsessed with modernity and technology and high rise apartment buildings mimic the aesthetic of the fast-paced metropolises like NYC or Chicago; and (c) Koreans are a very social culture, (at least comparatively to America) who don't mind sharing space with other Koreans.

Anyway, I walked through downtown--which is essentially just billiard halls (the kind without pockets), restaurants and bars--and window shopped the brand name stores on main street. Also, western brand names (mainly from Britain) are huge here and if you pair that idea with the lack of copyright law here, you'll understand why I see so many "Abercombi" sweatshirts everywhere. Shoes here are also really expensive. My mom twisted my arm into getting snow-friendly shoes and I looked in a few stores and they averaged at 130,000 won (see above unit conversion legend).

So I was feeling a bit courageous after having my morning jaunt through the market,
and I decided to ride the public bus to Daecheon Beach. Keep in mind, there are no signs in English in the public transit system in my town, so I was pretty much winging it. I waited at the stop for about 10 minutes and the bus arrived. I walked up the courtesy stairs and didn't have to do much to inform the driver (a) I didn't know what I was doing and (b) I didn't know Korean. Luckily, I told me the fare was 1,100 won, which was dirt cheap, and I thanked him in the one word of Korean I do know and found a seat on the bus. We passed rice field after rice field with sporatic gas stations and restaurants. I finally got off the bus feeling accomplished and walked the beach for a while. It was nice to see home (or China, if we're splitting hairs here).

I asked a local if he could take my picture.
This one was probably my favorite.

For mum. This was an ad at the bus stop. Mum loves nativity scenes.

I almost forgot...

For those of you who didn't see:



And for your listening pleasure...I give you...WONDER GIRLS!!!

I won't go down without a fight! And Konglish Christmas carols.

These kids are impossible. This entry, perhaps, will be far more venting than most blogs; but, I figure if I couldn't vent to a computer screen with familiar faces on it, who would I vent to? Okay, preface: I work at an all boys middle school and the boys here are out of control. A cultural insight of Korea: Parents favor their young sons (and conversely, not their daughters) and will hardly ever refuse them of things they want. Another important note: After school, parents send their kids to "hagwons" to learn English. "Hagwons" are basically private English schools (that are incidentally filled with dodgy characters and corrupt behavior). (A buddy of mine worked at a Hagwon as an English teacher and they set him up with a substandard apartment, made him work double shifts without overtime, split his schedule [a class at 7am and then one at 9pm] and then refused to pay him at the end of the month. Yes, this may sound hyperbolic, but foreigners have little to no rights here and if you aren't in a government job where there are bureaucratic repercussions for principals who don't pay their employees, you're really taking your chances.) Anyway, so the kids go to hagwons at night, plus they're never told "no" from the time they are born--so English class during the day is an ostensible waste of time. They talk, fight, and sleep in class and because they don't have any respect for foreign teachers and I don't issue grades, I really have no form of recourse....EXCEPT corporal punishment. Yesterday, a fellow teacher seriously quoted to me, "Spare the rod, spoil the child." This was in the middle of my Teachers' Course--where all of the English teachers sit in around and speak in English about what issue ails them--and my colleague spat out that proverb. And oddly enough, I wasn't shocked by it. I just sort of overlooked the comment and changed the subject. After living here for a week, it seemed intuitive to me that that was one of their fundamental mores. This is a land of standardized tests to the extreme, work hard/play hard, and bipolar atmosphere, it makes sense that an idea like individual rights (the right not to be beaten) would be completely moot.

Despite my bickering, I did have somewhat of a good time this week. My first day of teaching was exhilarating cake. The students listened and I was like a rockstar to them. Another interesting thing about the small towns in Korea--well, actually two things--(a) they rarely see westerners and they aren't nearly as exposed to western culture as you might think in today's social climate; and (b) westerners, consequently, are like gods to them. I can't pass anyone on the street without their awestricken head turning. Some of them even cry out, "USA" or "Canada". On the latter, I quickly correct them and say "USA". Anyway, I got to go to the beach yesterday which was exhilarating. It reminded me a lot of Pacific Beach back home and it was really comforting. Since I've always lived on the coast, it's nice to know that I'm not landlocked in podunk nowhere on the other side of the world. Another thing I discovered about Korea: no matter how small the town, there is always a dense urban center. At some point, I'll take pictures for you but you could walk to miles of rice fields and then all of the sudden you'll be trampled by a slough of chain retail shops and high rise restaurants. I was convinced that I was pretty isolated from most life outside of my school because I live on the outskirts of town. But, I just went for a twenty minute walk yesterday and hit the heart of downtown. Fifteen to twenty story buildings everywhere and so many shops. Luckily, though, since I can't read the language, I'm never tempted to buy anything on my limited salary. Yeah, so back to the beach- it's about 7 miles from my house and without sidewalks on the side of the road, it's too far to walk, but I'll find a way to get there. Apparently, a taxi is only about 10,000 won, so like 7 dollars. That could make for a good day trip. Probably even better once it gets warmer.

Now for something completely different: I love me some Konglish Christmas carols. At first glance, you might think the Christmas carols you know and love sung in high pitched voices and broken English might get annoying, but no. I never cease to adore them. They're played in the grocery store and everywhere else practically. But not all of them are merely broken English; in fact, most of them have Konglish choruses and Korean verses. Lord knows what those ambiguously gendered Konglish kids are saying. But they sure are happy about it.

My first week is over and it couldn't have come at a better time. I am spent. I'm going to go cruise the local bar scene and see what it has to offer. Goodnight.

This first entry will be brief, but nevertheless engaging. Maybe not.

Pardon impending grammatical errors, I just had my induction dinner with my boss--and for those who are not aware, drinking soju (which is a Korean rice vodka that tops out at about 30 percent alcohol) is a cultural mandate. I was invited by my supervisor to dinner tonight. Long story short, I'm still not eating any non-seafood meat and when I was asked what I wanted to eat tonight, pork or beef, I respectfully told them that I'd prefer seafood. This was a bit of a faux pas, but we ended up going to this traditional seafood restaurant and it was delicious.

We sat on the floor, legs crossed and I was asked a lot of questions about this Korean pitcher for the Padres. Apparently, Major League Baseball is huge in Korea. One thing that I've noticed that everything in Korea is communal. Koreans have public bathhouses (No, this isn't in the red light district and there's no funny business that goes on there. It's really just a bunch of naked dudes in hot tubs and saunas. I convinced myself that it was an obligatory cultural experience and I went. Honestly, I wasn't a big fan. The water was relaxing; I especially liked the ginseng bath, but I couldn't get over the awkwardness of mass male nudity. I don't know if I'll go back.); also, Koreans almost entirely eat communal or "family style" food. And there are all of the unspoken rules about eating that establish the hierarchy of the table. For example, when an elder pours a subordinate (me) a shot of soju, the younger bows and holds the glass with two hands. Then, in turn, the younger pours the elder a glass of soju. The elder outstretches his glass with one hand and the younger pours with two hands. When you want the other person to stop pouring, you utter "com-sam-nee-dah", which means "thank you."



I was pretty jet-lagged when I got here, but now that it’s Monday and I’ve seen my apartment, I feel significantly better. Oh! Another thing that I found culturally different here—Korean men are very affectionate. I don’t really mind because I, myself, am a fairly tactile person and if I can establish any connection of solidarity with people that don’t speak my language, I’m all for it.

Also, the music and fashion is fairly retro. Boy bands are huge here and also, girl groups. Specifically, the band, Big Bang. Haha.

To an outsider, they seem like a Korean brand of N’Sync/Backstreet ridiculous, but the kids here are obsessed with them. Young, old, boy, girl—the students want to dress like them (although, my kids don’t show this mislead fashion zealousness because they wear uniforms to school), talk like them, walk like them, and feel romance like them. But oddly, no matter how ridiculous this seems to me now, I can’t help but think how much of a media consumptive tool I used to be at that age. My mom said to me that kids are kids and it doesn’t matter what their nationality, they behave the same way. I didn’t believe her before coming here, but now I think she might be right.

I went out with the vice principal, English and fine art teachers last night and it was a blast. I can’t remember the last time my employer fed me and bought me drinks. I didn’t understand completely what they were saying—in fact, nothing at all, really—but everyone seemed to be really happy to meet me and to work with me. It’s funny, I’ve only been here two days and I’m starting to think in Konglish. (Konglish is Korean English. Basically, just put "ee" on the end of words that end with consonants and "u" between syllables that have consonants back to back. For example, the word "subject" would be "sub-u-jet-ee." It's really indiscernable when you first hear it, but after a while you get the hang of it.)