Colored lights, bubbles, and a plastic cake: A Korean Wedding Story.

This weekend I finally got the opportunity to attend a modern Korean wedding. Although I was told many times this year by co-teachers and other Korean natives that this celebration pales in comparison to a traditional Korean wedding, I was still really curious to see what it would be like.

Thanks to my friend, Christy, who invited me to a wedding a teacher at her school was having, my curiousity was definitely satisfied, although this event has left me in a slight state of confusion and shock.

We arrived at the hotel where the wedding and reception were to take place. The first thing we were prompted to do was meet the bride. We turned the corner down a crowded hallway to see this tiny yet utterly lavished room designed specifically for the bride to sit and have photos taken with visiting guests. She looked like a Korean princess who just happened to have been placed in the middle of all the chaos: people running around, bringing in flowers, exchanging envelopes, getting meal tickets. We [awkwardly] snapped a couple of photos with her and waited for the wedding to start.

When I walked into the venue where the ceremony would take place, I was pretty amazed. Music bumping, people chatting, and the officiator was getting ready at the front, atop a huge platform-esque pulpit. Not to mention an adorable photo slideshow of the couple and the moving-and-color-changing rainbow lights, which added a certain Korea-ness that is wholly unique. Finally, the main feature-- the aisle-- which looked more like a model runway than anything I've ever seen at a wedding in the States. Lined by lights and raised about 6 inches off the ground, I suddenly became really excited for the wedding to begin. Fashion show! Fashion show!... I mean... wedding?

When the wedding party (no brides and groomsmen at this wedding) came out, there was one person designated to be the official 'toucher-upper' of hair, jackets, and the bride's dress, of course. This upped her 'princess' status quite a bit in my eyes.

For all the pomp, there didn't seem to be much reciprocation from the audience... I mean, er... the guests. Korean culture, even after living here for almost a year, still shocks me quite a bit. During the ceremony, there were full-fledged discussions being held by those in attendance. People answered their phones. And once the officiator began talking, many people (including our small group) left the ceremony room in favor of going somewhere else to sit down and wait until the next portion.

Um.... what?

Usually when I observe another culture, it's just that: an observation. As in, from far away, where I can feel removed from the scenario. Today tested my cultural competency in a way it's not usually tested because I was a true part of the schenenagains going on. And as much as Chsirty and I giggled to one another and wondered what the heck was going on, we also tried to keep a poker face about it and pretend that leaving a wedding ceremony in the middle because it got 'boring' is perfectly normal.

We were beckoned back to the service by the alluring sound of this man's voice as he sang to the newlyweds about getting married:

And later, after cutting the cake (which seemed to be only symbolic; not only did we not eat wedding cake at the wedding, but the bottom two layers of the 'cake' were actually plastic!), bowing to the parents and offering a 'thanks' to all the guests, the bride and groom proceeded back down the aisle as husband and wife. Their first challenge as a married couple: making it through the haze of bubbles, fake snow, and fire-crackers aimed at their faces... and coming out alive.

The final blow to rock all my paradigms about marriage ceremonies was that in Korea there is no dancing at the reception. None at all. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

Congratulations to the lovely young couple! It was a beautiful wedding, and it definitely shook up my world a little. All in all, I do love Korea, but I'm glad that getting married here isn't in the cards for me. Some cultural ideas we just can't give up.

Photojournalist Shot of the Day.

It's been a while. Like I said: not a photojournalist. Otherwise I'd have to fire myself for posting such an out-dated photo. Still, it was a pretty magical catch.

A woman wears Hanbok, traditional Korean attire,
and bows to honor Buddha's Birthday, May 5th in Seoul.

Not just the typical, "neener neener neener."

This morning, there was a pretty major incident in one of my 5th grade classrooms. Like any good Guest English Teacher, as soon as I made it to the Teacher's Room, I logged onto Facebook and sent out an SOS via status update into the virtual community:

Upon a first-read, the drama of the situation seems entertaining, almost. And with the language barrier I have between me and the students, it does seem comical to think about how I-- as 1 of 2 adults in the room-- had to sit there and witness the whole thing unfold without contributing whatsoever. Sure, it was scary, but hey, it's one for the books, right? Besides, nobody got hurt. Doesn't that mean we can laugh about it?

The interesting thing is: that's exactly what the students do. This boy had tuned out all verbal and physical commands (clearly just running on Id at this point); his actions, harmful to others and to himself, took learning off the list of priorities as the entire room was concerned for the safety of the group. However, the boys who held him down got up to do so as if it was routine. They grabbed him in big bear hugs and tolerated the kicking and jabbing coming from the perp while another appointed student dashed off to find the homeroom teacher. The rest of the students knew to stay clear.

All in all, it was a pretty organized affair.

What gets me about this situation is that is was so organized and casual, when this boy obviously has pent-up anger and quite possibly needs to see a counselor or use another program outside of public school to receive education. In short: the public school doesn't have enough resources to suit his needs.

This is a very common problem in Korea, as many Guest English Teachers can attest to. There is little the teachers can do, aside from talking to the parents about the issues. When I asked one of my Korean co-teachers about on-site counseling (like, if there is any), she said this (paraphrased):

"Of course. But many parents don't want to take their child [to the school counselor] because they don't want to think their child has a disease. What happened today, it's from a disease, but many parents won't accept that."

This cultural desire to be the same echoes throughout the public school system. Every child is expected to be the same in ability and performance. This is precisely why all subjects are taught by age group (grade), not level of ability. Thus, it's not uncommon to have children who are well above average in your class, bored to pieces; it's equally likely that you will have some students who are below average or dealing with behavioral disorders which have yet to be evaluated. 

And that makes for a pretty interesting class.

A friend of mine also opened my eyes to another perspective on the matter: bullying. Disorder or not, the kids who pick on each other and create fear within an individual or among a group should be considered a bully. Although I felt some sympathy to see the student from this morning return to the English Teachers' room crying his apology to us, I do consider him a threat to his classmates. I assumed, upon coming to Korea, that there would be less bullying here than in the States. However, it's becoming apparent to me that bullying is just as common here as anywhere else, and visa versa.

According to Jae-In Lee (n.d.) from a study on bullying in Korean public schools:

[Those who bullied], in particular-- those who bullied the weak[er-looking students, were] less mature and more distorted in the developmental stage. The students [who] bullied the weak needed to be counseled as much as the bullied.

In a society where success in education is everything, I hope that soon there will be more moderation in the realm of mental health for young children, not only for those who are victimzed by bullying, but for those who throw the first punch. Looking at outward, negative actions as a sign of deeper, unmet needs, and getting parents to accept their child as who they are as opposed to the mold they 'should' fit into could work wonders to relieve Korean students' stress and diminish unhealthy behavior.

And it would sure give those poor chairs a break from being thrown around my 5th grade classroom.

On being 'healthy', cont.

"My school English teacher is so kind and pretty and talented teacher... she like a snow white. But I am ugly. I'm sad. I want a laura teacher face."

I found this in my student's English diary today. She is an advanced student and has a special agreement with me where she writes journal entries and I correct them. She knew I would see this. And it breaks my heart.

This is not just a case of pre-teen self-consciousness. This student's sentiments are not a lone voice in South Korea. In fact, idolization of the 'Western image' has been creeping its way into Asia at an alarming rate for some years now, and having a scary effect on our world's children. Watch the following CNN video, broadcasted just last week, and you'll see what I mean.




I understand that the media has a massive effect on the way we view ourselves, but when it becomes so viral and downright vile that it threatens to wash away the uniqueness of other cultures and turn us into a singular, cloned version of Barbie, isn't it time we take another approach? I know it's easier said than done, but aren't the differences the very things we should be embracing about ourselves? And shouldn't cultures be proud of this, instead of trying to erase them?

At the end of the day, I'm still not sure what to write as a response in my student's diary, with exception of three words:

you are beautiful.

I can only hope that has some effect.

On being 'healthy'.

It's rare to find a young woman who doesn't feel the pressure to conform to society's ideal body image, one that varies by culture. In the States, I would argue that the 'ideal' body type still remains to be a size 2, 18" waistline with a 34D cup bust, even though the majority of women never could and never will fit into that size. We're just not built that way (nor should we be, generally speaking). 

However, after living in Korea for a while, I've seen how much more slim the women here are supposed to look. As a woman in the States, I feel like muscles are a sign of physical power and health. It means we are being active.

But as I said, the ideal body type varies by culture, and South Korea's image is definitely different from that in the States.

As a foreigner, I feel as though I am generally excused from these standards because I am not Korean (although I understand this is completely subjective). However, it makes me a little more than uneasy to see this and not be able to do something about it. Check this out. You only have to watch the first third to understand what I mean.



And if that's being 'healthy' or 'sturdy', then I'll take those labels anyday.

THAT GOES FOR THE MEDIA IN THE STATES, TOO. FEED YOUR MODELS.

those weird foreigners.

Now that I've been living in Korea for over 8 months, I realized how much foreigners like to point out all the strange things Koreans do, but rarely look at it from the other way around. After all, our normal is, well-- normal-- to us, leaving the remainder of things we see outside our realm of comfort as abnormal.

So in the spirit of bridging the gap, I'm compiling a couple lists. Because that's what I do.

WHY KOREANS FIND FOREIGNERS STRANGE

1. We have the obligatory, "bless you" after sneezing, which, when said to a Korean person, hangs awkwardly in the air like a forgotten high-five.

2. We dress in animal onesies to go bowling. This is a new tradition my friends and I have started in Ulsan, because we feel like we get stared at enough already. PS: Our herd is 30+ strong.

3. We like to hug. Sometimes a lot.

4. We play the ukulele, an instrument almost no Korean (and, strangely, some people from the USA) have never heard of.



5. Despite our hugging (see point 3), we like to keep our food to ourselves, and will rarely share a meal off the same plate. That's so Lady and the Tramp.



WHY WESTERNERS WILL THINK I'M STRANGE UPON MY RETURN

1. I will bow to my elders, and maybe to a little head nod to my friends and co-workers.

2. I won't want to use a fork, and maybe pull out chopsticks at the dinner table. Along the same lines, I will eat rice with a spoon.

3. I might forget to give the obligatory, "bless you" when people in my vicinity sneeze. Apologies in advance.

4. I will confuse people with my wardrobe.

5. I will be hugging everyone in sight because that's the one thing in Korea I really don't like living without.


And an announcement for those who haven't heard: I will be leaving Korea in about 100 days (mid-August), and returning by mid-September to Seattle. It was an incredibly tough decision, but I know it's going to be the right choice for me.

You know you're a foreign teacher in Korea when...

you find humor and perhaps even complete joy in waving ridiculously at all the Koreans who stare at you.

Microsoft Office in Korean characters stops seeming like such a beast and more like the program you used to be friends with.

eating octopus is not only not an accomplishment, but has become practically an essential food group.

you use the universal sign of acknowledgment, 네 (or ney), around everyone, including non-Koreans.

the best part of your day is coming home and laying on your heated floor.

you can't imagine your life in winter without a hat and scarf, or anything else that will assist in covering every square inch of your body 3 times over.

 

your Korean co-teachers can't eat the soup you just finished because it was too spicy for them.

that fateful day comes that you accept that standing on public transportation is not only polite, but convenient for you since all the elders will glare until you stand up anyway.

you value stickers and candy more than the won, because it's the only thing that will motivate your students on 'those' teaching days.

conversations among teachers after work include over-exaggerated hand gestures and accentuated pronunciation.

your planner is full of Konglish and cartoon stickers from your students, completely killing any chance of getting that date you were trying to plan when you pulled out your planner to begin with (damnit).

everything seems to smile at you.

 

you cringe at catch phrases such as "so-so" and "I'm fine, thank you. And you?"

the best scolding you've given all week is, "WHY HOMEWORK NO? DO YOUR HOMEWORK. YOU MAKE TEACHER SAD."

you find yourself improvising choreography for a song aptly titled, "I Like Oranges"... in front of your 3rd graders... after hearing it once.

To all my fellow teachers in Korea, you're daily, crazy, outright heroes. 
Here's to you.
-Laura

My Korean Kristmas.

Hopefully the title of this post didn't offend anyone who celebrates Christmas, but things here aren't quite the same as back at home. A few people have asked me about what Christmas is like in South Korea (because, yes, they do have Christmas here, with lights and trees and presents), but it's difficult to explain the subtle differences. As I've said before, no culture is better or worse, so this comparison is just for laughs and might put a new spin on how you choose to celebrate the season. Now, enough of the disclaimers. Let's compare.

Christmas light in the US:



Ah, nothing says "it's Christmas" like 5,000 colored bulbs timed to music.

Christmas lights in Korea:



... well, screw the colored lights. Nothing says "it's Christmas" like seasonally manicured nails.


Christmas carols in the US:



Another cultural fad, flash mobs, rock the Christmas season anywhere the people are (near fast food and shopping centers).



Christmas carols in Korea:



A whole different kind of fad hits Korea during Christmas, and her name is Mariah Carey.

Christmas zoos in the US:

In America, we like to make our lights do all the work at the zoo (AGAIN with the colored lights?!).



Christmas zoos in Korea:



In Korea, the animals prefer to get into the holiday spirit (or do they?...).


So, as you can see, Christmas is here, but it just isn't the same.

Friends and family, thank you for all the love and support from afar as I spend my first Christmas on my own. It's been beautiful and a little bittersweet, but knowing you are all still there and think of me makes everything about this season whole.

Followers of my blog whom I have yet to meet, thank you for taking the time to read about my adventures. I would like to extend the warmest wishes to you and your loved ones this season, whoever they may be and however you may celebrate.

Lastly, Korea-- thank you for giving me this wonderful opportunity to grow and find home wherever I am. It's not always easy but it's always a learning opportunity.

This will be my last post of the year, as I'm going on vacation immediately following Christmas for a weeklong trip to Seoul. Wish me luck as my friends and I troll up to the border, and expect an amazing Seoul post upon my return! See you in 2011!

Love and happiness to you all,
Laura (로라)

"Are there 'Free Hugs' in Korea?"

For months, I've been saying the thing I miss most as a foreigner in Korea are hugs. In Korean culture, they just aren't that common, even among friends. As a Pacific Northwestern-er in my fantastically lovable college town, Bellingham, people with 'Free Hugs' signs were incredibly commonplace (so commonplace, in fact, that a lot of people began to ignore them). Well, since being in Korea, I can honestly say I've been in a constant state of hug withdrawals.

But last night, we saw something pretty incredible.

Two high school girls stood in the main strip of Song-nam Dong (Old Downtown) with 'Free Hugs' signs. At first, my gut reaction was to keep walking... until I realized we were in KOREA and these girls are AMAZING and I really need more hugs in my life.

It was hands-down the best hug I've had in weeks.

If anyone is wondering why I decided to post about this, it's because I want you to know that not every culture is going to express love the way you expect. And sometimes those little personal interactions really matter; when they aren't there they are missed, more than anything else.

I also encourage you to hug the next person you see who's gutsy enough to hold up a sign that says 'Free Hugs'. You're not too cool for it; everyone needs a little more love in their life.

Because I was too dumbfounded and found the moment too special and fleeting, there is no photo for today's blog. Instead, I thought I'd share this video, sent to me by someone awesome in the NW when I explained, months ago, just how much I was missing those hugs. He said I should look for someone like this:



 안아 (that's hugs) from South Korea,
Laura

Lessons Learned from the Life of a Guest English Teacher.

A few people have asked to read the essay I wrote for a competition this year through EPIK. Here it is, in all its 2nd place glory (yes, yes; there's my charming sarcasm again).

On a more serious note, I am so thankful that my essay was chosen, and thrilled to see that I have so many people supporting my efforts abroad, including my school, who helped me to give my plain paper essay some finishing touches in the most Korean way possible (aka: completely without my consent but utterly appreciated!). 

Thanks for your kind words, positive vibes, and endless encouragement.

And for anyone who reads this in its entirety... you're rad.

Lessons Learned from the Life of a Guest English Teacher

I don’t think I can express just how different every foreigner’s experience is when they move to a new place. In fact, the one thing every foreigner likely does have in common when they think about their life in Korea is that it’s nothing like they imagined it would be. Talk about room for personal and professional growth! Here are some of my own stories from this transition to Korea so far, and the lessons I’ve gleaned from them:

Expect adventures in Korean dining.

I’ve had some interesting experiences just trying to eat in Korea. I love Korean food, but had to give up some of my own stubborn eating habits in order to truly enjoy it. When I first arrived in Korea, I was a vegetarian and wanted to maintain that dietary standard. However, after a few strange encounters with restaurant food, I decided a little meat in my diet wouldn’t be the worst thing after all. This first comedic incident occurred before I even left EPIK Orientation, and it‘s one I‘ll never forget:

Sitting with my friends in a Korean barbeque with virtually no knowledge of the Korean language, no readable menu, and my dietary needs... we defaulted to the other foreigners we saw in the restaurant, and enlisted their help. This resulted in one of the most awkward experiences I've had to date. Soon our fellow foreigners and the Korean servers were in what appeared to be a discussion over why someone would willingly come to a barbeque when they don't eat meat. If that wasn't enough, they all began pointing at me from across the restaurant so we could clear up this debacle. It was hard not to sink in my chair from this point on, especially when they came over and laughed when I verified that I really couldn‘t eat anything on the menu.

The lesson I would like to pass on from this night is that one should always come prepared to dine in a foreign country. The Korean culture is very hospitable and the women working that night definitely didn’t let me go hungry, but I certainly could have been more helpful if I was aware of some options to ask for in advance. Of course, there is always the possibility that the etiquette of a new culture will provide enough of a challenge. Here are some feelings from my first experience dining out with my school:

It’s my first staff meal and I feel completely lost. In the United States, I would be contributing to the conversation and making jokes. In Korea, I’m not even sure when I’m supposed to pour the water, which way to put my chopsticks, or even how to eat many of these dishes! These factors, in combination with the language barrier, make me about as comfortable as sitting on the floor does. Both I’m going to have to get used to. For the first time, I felt so socially out of place I thought I might begin to spill tears in the middle of lunch; not the impression I want to make on my new Principal and staff! Fortunately, one of my co-teachers told me not to worry. “We’re all very nice, don’t be nervous” she said. Those few words were enough for me to keep trying to cut fish with my chopsticks.

Although I still can’t cut fish properly with my chopsticks, I have learned how to act socially-presentable on a variety of other levels since moving to Korea. A few days after this lunch, I had a private meal with my co-teacher and took the time to ask her about proper eating manners in Korea. At first, I was a little embarrassed to ask her which way I should place my chopsticks between bites, but she seemed more than happy to help me adjust to Korean culture. Now that I see how eating together is an important part of social and professional life, I sometimes wish I had received a lesson on manners in Korean dining from the EPIK Orientation. It certainly would have helped to boost my confidence when taking those first few meals together as a school!

Learn some of the history.

Upon arriving at EPIK Orientation, it was made abundantly clear that learning some history of Korea would be necessary to our understanding of the culture. I gave each lecture my full attention but didn’t understand the magnitude of their importance until one night, heading home:

I’m in a taxi and the driver begins to speak to me in English. He seems very friendly and comments on how much he loves American baseball. We speak in broken English and Korean for a few minutes when he begins to share his extremely negative views toward Japan with me. I sit and listen, remembering the history lesson on Japan and South Korea I received at EPIK orientation.

Understanding history helps us to see the way culture is shaped. The two concepts are intertwined. One teacher at my school is very dedicated to my learning of Korean history and culture, and is kind enough to take me and other foreign teachers I know around our area to show us more about the country we live in now. The more I see and learn about Korea’s past, the more I can understand and find meaning in the present culture I live in. It is useful if I want to work professionally with other teachers, relate to my students, or hear a taxi driver’s story with an enlightened perspective.

Trust the system.

Sometimes, we are truly tested in another culture. One of the most obvious times in our lives when we depend on a system to work is when we are ill. Here’s a short account of the first time I was sick in Korea:

This past week, I've been feeling a bit low on energy and recently have begun to experience dizziness when I wake up. What made this situation even more interesting was that this was my first encounter with Korean medical practices. The nurse gave me some pills, all labeled in Hangul, and sent me off. No better time to start really trusting another culture than when you have to get medical attention!

I was really nervous to go to the doctor in Korea. In American culture, people generally have a bad habit of waiting until the illness becomes serious to go to a doctor. It wasn’t until one of my foreigner friends gave me some words of encouragement that I decided to put my health in the hands of the Korean medical system. “You need to trust the doctors here,” she said. Sure enough, all I had to do was let the medical system do its job (and let my co-teachers help me to and from the doctor), and I was healthy in no time! As with many cultural differences, sometimes it’s difficult to let go and try something a different way. However, it’s usually better to let go and let it happen. In this particular case, I couldn’t have put my health in better hands.

Honor your native culture.

I came to Korea with the humble perspective that this opportunity was going to be solely about Korean culture, but I was only half-correct. Although it’s true that on a daily basis, foreigners adapt to a new set of customs and habits, it doesn’t mean that their own culture isn’t of interest to Koreans! I learned this very quickly after starting my job. Being a foreigner in an elementary school sometimes feels akin to being a celebrity: everyone wants to know about your life! If I had thought about my teaching job with this perspective before moving to Korea, I would have brought more artifacts from America for the students to look at, which I now know to be a useful learning tool in the classroom. It would’ve been nice to see something like this on a packing list from EPIK, encouraging us to be just as ready to accept this new, Korean culture as we should be to share whatever we can from our native, English-speaking one. 

 

Remember with culture, it’s not better or worse. It’s just different.

As a foreigner, understand that there will be times when you feel ridiculous or out of place. The best way to counter this is with humility, not embarrassment. Culture is a far bigger and more powerful force than our own prides, so take every stumble as a learning opportunity and move along. Occasionally, you will feel completely lost. You may hear your name in conversation but not know what the conversation is about, and you may not know how to eat half the food you are served on any given day. To deal with these factors gracefully take on a sense of trust and adventure in the people you surround yourself with. If you can look at the big picture, it’s easier to trust this new system. Keep in mind that this won’t happen overnight. For a long period of time, you may not know things you once considered basic, such as where, or even if you can buy shoes in your size. There are things for every foreigner that makes them feel a little more at home. Recognize what those things are to you and figure out how to fulfill those needs. Even if it’s internet shopping.

As with any life experience, the outcome and lessons you gain from them is a choice. With new cultural experiences, this is no different. Every experience, good or otherwise, has the potential to enrich your life. All it takes is humility to realize that you’ll never know it all, but the courage to learn from whomever or whatever comes your way.

If you are considering teaching English in South Korea, make sure to check out EPIK's site: www.epik.go.kr . You will also find the winning entries from this year (including my essay) on EPIK's site soon!

Who's learning from who here?

One of the questions I receive the most from family, friends, and curious internet acquaintances (thanks for bonding me to the internet for life, Facebook) is how well my Korean is coming. The short answer is this: it's coming well. I am beginning to build confidence in my speaking skills, although admittedly I was shocked at how shy my usually-talkative mouth was to use Korean. Now that I'm putting myself out there, it's coming along alright. My main audience during an average day are:

1. taxi drivers.
2. random students on the street by my apartment.
3. the family of the noodle/kim bap house I love so much.
4. street vendors.

Every time I have a success with Korean locals, I walk away with a poker face of cool confidence, which bursts into the dorkiest grin imaginable as soon as I'm out of sight. Some of the highlights include:


1. the first time I directed a cabbie to my apartment.
2. the second time I directed a cabbie to my apartment (yeah, it was a pretty big deal).
3. the time I bartered with a shoe salesman for a sweet deal on some black boots in Busan.
4. the way the teachers and students at my school light up when I try to write their names in Hangul (imagine a poor foreigner sinking into her chair, scrawling on a piece of paper as several Koreans huddle around her yelling, "gim hae eun... eun! euuuuuuun!").
5. actually communicating with the 2-to-4-year-olds I cared for this weekend at children's house in Ulsan (this is going to be a different post entirely so keep an eye out).

So I'd place my language level at 3 years of age. That and taxi driver, which are about equivalent.

Much of this learning has been completed on my own time, but it hasn't been by myself. Aside from my co-teachers and foreign network, the biggest asset to my learning have been the kids I work with. They love taking time from their day to show me new words, test my knowledge of Hangul, or provide me with opportunities to listen to simple sentences being whined over and over... and over.

The best thing about learning from kids is that they never judge you for being wrong. They may laugh, but they never make you feel inferior for asking. They really have been some of my biggest supporters when it comes to learning, and certainly the biggest inspiration. So a big thank you to my students, and all the Korean children who lend a helping hand to tongue-tied foreigners like me.

On the other side of the spectrum is the image of an 'English speaker' I have to present to my students. As a foreign English teacher trying to learn Korean, it is sometimes difficult not to use a little here and there in the classroom just to make things run smoother. On a normal day at my school, this isn't much of an issue because the Korean teachers are already using their native language for much of the class. However, the reason English-speakers were hired to come here is to somehow be a tool for English immersion. I often laugh at this since I have about 1,000 students at my school and somehow must immerse them all in my language.

However, I do work an after-school program with limited numbers of students, so in those classes it is crucial that we have an 'English only' policy, for both me and the students. My classes are well-informed that if they speak Korean, they have to write lines. Although this is not my preferred method for a reward/punishment system, it is definitely effective in Korea. The only problem is that by the 5 o'clock hour (when after-school lessons begin), students do not want to keep to school rules, and they definitely don't want to be kept from speaking Korean.

So, what happens when you have an English teacher in a room of students who want to speak Korean?

 I think we're going to have a lesson on punctuation
sometime in the near future.

Yep. Punctuation.

This student's handwriting got suspiciously larger to cover more space.
Nice tactic.

I particularly like this kid's take on the punishment. Not only did he write 100 times in the smallest handwriting "I will speak English", but he wrote in blaring yellow marker... and still managed to save enough space to scrawl "THE END" at the bottom.

The age hierarchy in Korea would never allow me to say this aloud, but I think I learn just as much-- if not more-- from my students on a daily basis (and that's no knock to my teaching abilities!). Let's just chalk it up to say that what I learned in college still holds true: we all learn from one another.

How to make amazing Korean photobooth pictures.

This week, I finally got the experience I've been looking for in Korea: the magic of the cutesy, silly, completely fun photobooths! In fact, I loved the first time so much I went on 2 more occasions this week. It's safe to say I'm addicted... and also quickly becoming a pro. Here are some tips if you ever encounter one of these miraculous pieces of technology:

1. Check out the photobooth beforehand. If there's a cache of 'em (and if you're in Korea there usually is), it's okay to be picky! Look at the sample pictures to pick the one with the best effects.

2. Don't get too overwhelmed by the fact that you can't read anything on the touch screen. There are so many options for lighting, picture size, and whatnot that I'm sure it's even hard for Koreans to decide what to select. Just look at the pictures or, when in doubt, choose the button in your favorite color.

3. On the same note, be careful to keep track of all the countdowns. And I'm not just talking about when the camera goes off! There is usually a countdown for most selections you have to make. On most photobooths there is even a time limit for putting designs on your pictures, so just be aware! You wouldn't want to end up with half of a cat face drawn on your bestie.

4. Go all out. You are in Korea. If you're too camera shy to make silly faces, then liven up your pictures with tons of decals. Korean photobooths have a wonderfully fun selection of accessories, flowers, stars, and cartoon drawings of turds that will make your photos cute and even outright hilarious. The more the better!

5. Make the peace sign. You know you want to.

Now that you've been given this well of knowledge, go and spread the wealth by tracking down your very own Asian photobooth and taking a few pictures! And send them to me. I'd love to see what your face looks like with only one side of cat whiskers.

Korean-itis.

So all the new strands of viruses here-- forevermore referred to on this blog as Korean-itis-- have been seriously crushing my social life, appetite and blogging habits. Last week, I was so sick that I couldn't even get out bed and take the 4.5 steps to my kitchen to pour a hot cup of tea. Fortunately I'm much better now and decided to fill everyone in on my past few weeks here:

"Is it suddenly winter here, or is that just me?"

One thing nobody ever told us newbie-foreigners is how fast the summer turns to complete winter weather. In the Pacific Northwest, there are 4 distinct season, and they all are dispersed somewhat equally throughout our 12 months (some may argue we have a 5th season called "rain" that likes to hang around always, but we just accept it). In Korea, the humid heat of summer turns to deathly cold winter fast enough to freeze the sweat on your forehead. At least that's how it felt when the 2 weeks of falltime ended and winter chill set in. It's another one of those things every Korean knows second-nature but foreigners like me have no clue about... and it's a really big deal, apparently. The day the weather turned, there was a special weather report about it. Normally, I watch international news to check the weather, so I completely missed this nationwide announcement. When I showed up to school in a short-sleeved sweater instead of the 2-layer winter coats my teachers were wearing, even my students asked me if I was okay. Everyone thought I was insane! Needless to say, the next day I came to school in a long sleeve shirt and have been wearing my coat in the classroom ever since, if for no other reason than just to blend a little.

Persimmons

In Washington State, I could go to the supermarket and buy a tiny, overpriced and freakishly pale persimmon. Not fun in the slightest. Here, persimmons are in season and, as I've quickly learned, are a really popular (and delicious) snack. Every day at school, teachers are slicing up chunks of persimmon to share. Although I haven't bought any for my apartment yet, I'm becoming pretty addicted. The other great thing about persimmons are the trees they grow on. During this time of year, all the leaves are turning color and falling to the ground, leaving persimmon fruits hanging like miniature pumpkins on the branches. It's beautiful and almost surreal.

 

"빼빼로!" Oh yes, it's Pepero Day.

Normally on November 11th, I'm honoring Vetran's Day in the States. Here, 11/11 is a special day for a different reason: a chocolate-covered, cookie/pretzel treat called Pepero is celebrated instead. These snacks are long and skinny, like 1's, so on 11/11 kids give each other boxes of Pepero until the sugar rush either induces vomiting or a coma. Now, aside from the fact that I found it really strange to celebrate a pseudo-Valentine's on a day I'd normally be thinking about those who served the US, it was difficult to teach with students all hyped up on sugar in class and munching on Pepero sticks during my lessons! Some girls had as many as 20 boxes stacked on their desks, all gifts from their friends (and crushes, I'm sure)! Well, at least with all the Pepero gifts I got from my students, I never have to food shop again.

Korean table

Many cities in Korea have free language classes for the foreign teachers, organized by the Metropolitan Office of Education (MOE). Ulsan, unfortunately, does not, and it breaks my heart a little because I really want to learn Korean faster and better than my self-teaching methods. Other foreigners who felt the same way decided to form a Korean study table, and we now meet once a week to talk about language, teaching, and whatever else comes up. It's been a great way to motivate myself to study during the week while making new friends. There are a lot of benefits to picking up Korean, far exceeding the obvious:

1. (First, the obvious): I can tell my cabbie how to get to my apartment without intense hand gestures or panic.
2. I can thoroughly enjoy the sounds of amazement from my co-teachers when I say something besides 'Hello' or 'Thank you'. Even one word and they fly into a tizzy of praise; it's like learning to speak at 2 years old only I'm fully aware of what's going on.
3. I can relate to my students better when trying to teach them the English language. It's not about speaking to them in Korean (which I almost never do in the classroom), but understanding the mindset of someone who is learning a new language. For example, I realize that my comprehension of the language is far greater than my speaking ability, which is something I definitely keep in mind when working with my students! They may not be able to tell me they understand, but many of them really do.

Anyway, with all the language learning I'm secretly hoping for some kind of breakthrough when everything suddenly makes sense, but realistically I'm just content with those little moments of clarity.

Gyeonju with Mr. Woo

Over the last few weekends I've traveled out of Ulsan a couple times as well. 3 weekends ago I took a day trip to Gyeonju, just 1 hour north of Ulsan. Gyeonju is a really popular international city in Korea and has a lot of historic and cultural sites. It also used to be the capitol of South Korea so it's large and really beautiful! We saw several tombs of past kings, an observatory, and the historical art in the Gyeonju Museum. Mr. Woo toured us around, and he is so full of knowledge so it really adds to the experience! After dinner, we took the road along the coast to get back to Ulsan, and we stopped at the beach. I stood at the edge of the sand and looked out East. It was weird to know I was staring in the direction of home, and the only thing separating me from everyone was thousands of miles of water. The Pacific Ocean looks familiar, even on the coast of Korea.

Girls' Weekend in Daegu

This weekend I took a trip up to Daegu, about 2 hours north, to meet up with my girlfriends from EPIK orientation. There are 4 of us (including Emily) who have stayed pretty close and have a really good time hanging out. We've been keeping in touch and visiting all of each other's cities on the weekends. Daegu is the 3rd largest city in Korea, so there was a lot I didn't see, but with the short time we spent there we really made it count. The other interesting thing about this city is that there are 2 military bases in the area, so there were a lot of foreign families walking around. In Ulsan I rarely see anything like this, so it really took me back when I saw an American family out to eat. The amusement park was our main objective for the day, so we took in the beautiful fall-esque weather (with the winter chill, of course), talked to Korean tween girls in line for rides, made our British friend try a churro for the first time, and screamed our heads off on some pretty crazy roller coasters. There is also an 80-story tower at the park, so we got to at least look at most of Daegu.

Well, that's all for now. If you'd like to see more pictures from my adventures, check out the 'Et cetra' tab of my blog to find links to my online photo albums.

Hope everyone is well in your corner of the world!
Much love from Laura.

The Little Mermaid and an International Fireworks Festival.

Ever since I began researching life in Korea (about a year ago), I knew I wanted to be a part of the annual International Fireworks Festival in Busan. How lucky was I that this year I got the chance to dive into the chaos of a human wall, eat chicken on the beach, and experience the best fireworks display I have ever seen at this festival.

Currently, I write this entry from the comfort of my bed, where I have been all day. I like to think of this weekend as one really long day, because I had to spend all of Sunday sleeping and eating pizza to recover.

The day started early with a bus ride out of Ulsan. The train into Busan is supposedly prettier (and less insane than the public bus) but keep in mind that there were about 2 million people filtering into Busan that day to watch the fireworks, so everything we did this weekend was kind of the long way. After our bus ride, the subway was the next stop. The fireworks show was at Gwangli Beach, but we decided to spend a portion of the afternoon in Haeundae first; this beach has a warm place in our hearts from last month when we visited there on vacation.

Hello, carnival games, Fuzzy Navel burritos, and the chilled October tide.


I'll be honest, from here on out things got a little harried. We started walking towards the beach with the assumption that we could catch a taxi at any point. Wrong. Because of all the chaos, virtually every taxi was in use. We searched for an alternate route to the festival for about 30 minutes before (luckily) catching a cab and heading towards Gwangli.

The festival itself was incredible. Here's what the Koreans have on us Westerners:

1. The organization was astounding and very well thought-out. The beach was mapped out so that an aisle of space was clear for people to enter and exit. And when the beach got too full (because it really really did), volunteers stamped our hands so we could enter and exit the beach.

By this point, the only thing keeping people from entering the beach was a human wall of police officers. I have never stood behind a human chain of government officials, let alone been allowed to pass through a wall of them! It felt pretty amazing.


2. Nobody left trash on the beach. And for 2-3 million people, that's miraculous. Could it have been the trash bags they gave us for free to use? I think so. But all things considered, this feat is pretty unheard of. Maybe the US government should start spending public funds on trash bags and less on the oil-using machines it takes to clean up loose garbage.

Oh wait. This is not a political blog. My bad.

3. Instead of selling french fries or cotton candy, vendors sold kim bap, rice cakes, and brightly-colored fuzzy blankets. Again, it's always healthier to be in Korea.

4. There are no open-container laws in Korea. Just sayin'.


5. Lastly, the fireworks themselves. There's not really too much to say; I don't know if any words I use could possibly describe the beauty of this show. Because this was an international display, the music timed with the show was from around the world. In the 50 minute display, there was a section of 3-4 songs from the US. By far, this one got us the most excited:



Singing 'Under the Sea' in a crowd of Koreans was almost too much fun... especially when I realized just how few of us there actually were who could sing along.

It's interesting to identify so wholly with something, like a song, and feel like nobody relates. The Little Mermaid is a defining part of my childhood (uh... Halloween costume circa 1992!), and I was in such a daze of ecstasy that I was shocked to see strangers staring curiously at me. I may be over-simplifying, but it's a prime example of how I see my life: your home is inside of you. It's unique to you. And you can be in a crowd of strangers and still be at home. But you may never understand what home is to someone else, and just how much it means to them. Even if they're 8 inches away, screaming in your ear.


I won't go into too much detail about the rest of our night, because it involved staying out until the sun rose, sleeping in a doorway, and getting soaked to the bone. I just try to remember that anything can happen here, and it usually does.

What great stories you can have when you take the opportunity to make them.

the 'comfort' of being a waygook.

It's amazing the way we limit ourselves when we are in our comfort zone. This is a pretty obvious statement, and those of you reading may be wondering why I consider this something to ponder... but it's amazing just how limited we really can be without even realizing it.

A few times a week, I go for a run around my neighborhood after school. My favorite place to run is this track at Mur-yong Elementary School; normally, I think tracks are nothing more than a torturing device coaches and teachers use on their students, but this is the perfect place for me to center my thoughts and play with the students as they kick the soccer ball around. Between listening for my breathing, my music, and stray soccer balls to the head, it's a really good way to wind down after a day of teaching.

This sounds great, right?

One thing I've realized after a couple weeks of this routine is that there is basically nobody else running. In fact, aside from a few old Korean men (who admit they can do whatever they want because they've earned their place on the social hierarchy), the only people who I know of that run out in the open are foreigners. I may be making an assumption, but it seems to me that the only place people exercise here is in the gym. Is this because outer image is so important? Because, believe me, I know passerby Koreans judge my unkempt appearance while I'm returning home from a run.

The important question is, "Do you care?"

It's so easy for me to say no. But is this because I know that this is not my culture? Is it because I know that no matter what the circumstances, I know I am outside my comfort zone here? And if that is all true, how many times did I limit myself at home by simply sticking with the social norms of my culture, as opposed to doing the taboo because it made me happy? The scary thing is that most times I never realized it simply because I was comfortable maintaining the standard.

When I am in the role of the foreigner, I am free. Within the realm of cultural sensitivity, I can do what makes me happy an healthy without a concern for what others think. As long as I know I'm not offending anyone, putting myself in a position where everyone feels a little awkward is not the worst thing. In fact, it's inevitable. It's addicting.


I may never know if it is awkward for Koreans to see me walking home drenched in sweat. But even if I do, I'm not going to stop running outside.


Also, thank you Jen Capponi for this amazing quote. It fell perfectly into my week and gave me lots to think about!

impressions.

Now that I've been here almost 2 months and feel rather settled (well, as settled as you can be in the middle of Korea after 2 months), I thought it would be fun to share a few assessments I've made. This entry comes with a small disclaimer, because as you'll see, there are no direct quotes from co-teachers, students, or anyone else to support what I'm saying.

But this is my blog, so let's just roll with it. Just remember this is all from the mouth of a waygook (or 'foreigner', for all you Westerners).


What I think of the food.

I still love Korean food. In fact, most blog ideas pour from my brain after a long day at work as I sit in this one little kim bap shop across the street from my apartment. It's adorable, family-run I think, and has a huge menu with really inexpensive food. The owners know me and my favorites now, which I'm really happy about. Big breakthrough today: they offered me more soup for free. I think they like me.

Also, for those who have been curious about how my vegetarian status was holding up: I have made the decision to eat chicken meat on occasion, mostly for the sake of my school dinners and evenings out with foreigner friends. In my close group of friends, we had a seafood allergy, a lactose-free diet, and me playing the part of vegetarian. This ruled out basically any dining options... what a nightmare. So me eating chicken here and there has helped us all immensely. Besides, after the tripe incident, I figured it would be safer to know I was eating chicken than not know I was eating cow stomach.


What my co-teachers think of me.

Firstly, they recognize I'm very young and remind me on a daily basis. This has not stopped them from continuing to point out every available male teacher, despite their age.

They think that the students like me because I have blue eyes. Like I mesmerize them with my 'special' eyes. What I fail to tell them is that if I actually had this power, I may not have left the US to begin with.

My left-handedness is becoming a new topic of interest. Today at lunch, my Korean father actually looked a little concerned that I was left-handed. He asked me if I was actually right-handed like I use my left hand just for fun. Then everyone wanted to know how I became left-handed. When I said it was my choice (slash genetics, I pointed out), I got some strangely amused looks. The weird looks only got weirder when I got up the nerve to ask if anyone in Korea is left-handed. Guess not. Now, I already knew the left hand was 'bad' in Korea, but it is getting a little frustrating for people to tell me that I do things well "even though she uses her left hand."

Today, my Human Services self remembered an essay I wrote last fall for a class on Diversity and Social Justice. We wrote about our privileges and disadvantages in society. I talked about my left-handedness as a disAbility at the most mild level. Well, here in Korea, it's seen as more of a handicap than anywhere I've ever been. Once again, I'm so thankful for my major.

Okay, I can't help it; I worked so hard to get this degree. Here is a small excerpt from my essay:

I am proud to be left-handed, and the fact that I am a minority in this area makes me feel unique. Being left-handed does not make me feel like a minority, and society does not make me feel excluded outright for being left-handed (although historically, organized religion used to consider left-handed people ‘evil’). However, US culture is generally built for right-handed people. Scissors, desks, and many instructions for skills such as knitting create a divide between people who are right-dominated versus left-dominated. Sometimes, I am frustrated with people’s shock at my left-handed quality, or their assumptions that my handwriting is not as competent as a right-hander’s. These stereotypes are a concise analogy for the hierarchy between majorities and minorities in society; the minority is viewed as different (and therefore less functional) than the majority.

One last interesting comment I heard this week was about my "S line." I don't think they knew that I understood what they were saying, but I learned from my friend Angela (who basically paved the way for me in Korean culture) that the "S line" is a term used to describe an ideal body type in Korea. If you look at the shape of the S, perhaps you'll understand: something of a chest, small waist, and ample hips. Needless to say, it's not too difficult to have an "S line" when you're being compared to Korean body types, but it was pretty hilarious to hear it from my lady co-teachers.


What my students think of me.

All smiles.

Well, mostly.

Nah, they've been pretty good, actually. I'm getting to know several of them on more than a name-basis (and believe me, when they don't have an English name, the name-basis alone is pretty difficult!). Some kids come in for tutoring in the afternoon, so usually they are deferred to me. I really like it. It's natural and more personal. It's why I came here.

They think I'm silly. I sing in class, dance, and am probably a good mental health break from their insanely stressful lives. On the first day of my lessons, I did an introduction slideshow with pictures of my family. One of them had a picture of my mom and I making a funny face. Apparently this image really stuck in their heads because two girls came up to me this weekend and wanted to know how to make 'the face.'

This was it.
We had an English Festival this weekend (pictured above) and it felt good to work with my kids outside of class... we had fun, despite the fact that our booth was a Jenga Spell game and I still cringe when I think about the sound of those wooden blocks crashing (as you can see, it was a pretty crazy, loud booth!).

Again, my co-teachers claim that our booth was popular because of my eyes, not the bags of candy we were giving away.


What I think about learning Korean.

It's a slow process but I'm still working at it everyday. I feel like my comprehension is definitely getting better, but my speech is lacking. It's incredibly difficult to muster up the energy to learn a language when I'm already teaching a different one all day.

I'm self-teaching with the help of my co-teachers, students, www.talktomeinkorean.com, and cell phone Korean-to-English dictionary.

By the way, I tried to think about Spanish today, the other language I used to know moderately. I couldn't even get my mind around it. I really admire anyone who is multi-lingual.


What I think of Korea (everyone asks me this so I'm just going to answer it).

I absolutely love it here. I miss you all, sometimes a lot, but this is a great experience for me. If you would ever like to send mail or packages, I can definitely return the favor with something special from Korea.