It's Monday evening here in the sunny mountains of the Korean Penninsula and I have recently become aware of the travesty that was the first Yankee-Sox series. While the effects are mildly dulled by the distance as well as the recent 10-2 conquest of my Tigers over the Samsung Lions, I remain considerably dismayed. I thought the amount of money spent on pitching alone would be enough to have immediate results. Still, the season is young and my optimism will prevail.
As luck would have it, today was the day that my night shifts we replaced by the more traditional 9:30 to 6 shift. Unfortunately, I was unaware. The day began with the laundry process. Because I have a washer but not a dryer, I decided I was going to take my work clothes to the dry cleaner for their first cleaning, just to make sure they looked good after being washed. I have an iron, but I bought it for 11,000 won so it's reliability and effectiveness leaves much to be desired. It didn't occur to me until recently that it would actually make more sense to wash the clothes in the washer but still go to the laundromat for the dryer. That way, even if I do have some ironing to do, it will be a lot easier to deal with than if my shirts and pants were dried by hanging them in random places in the apartment. Either way, as the process began and I had one load down at the laundromat with another load in the washer I was met with the unhappy arrival of the director himself at my door. When I learned that my shift was, in fact, the morning one I offered profuse apologies and told him I would be at the school as soon as possible. This meant rushing down to the laundromat to pull the mostly dried first load while leaving the other load to sit in the washer (where it still remains at the time of this entry's publication). As the plans of men are want to do, my agenda took a rapid change and I was off to school with what dry work clothes I still had.
When I got to work I was somewhat concerned about the repercussions of this error. However, when I entered the classroom I was meant to be teaching I found the director's wife, who is also a kind of director in her own right, the apologies were coming from the other end. She felt badly that I was not informed more concretely about what I was doing and allowed me to take over the class with no difficulties. The exchange ended with both of us apologizing to each other and neither of us much worse off for the wear. The remainder of the day went rather well and I am now officially part of the typical daily grind.
As of Sunday, I have officially been in Korea for a month and it has been an interesting experience this far. The most recent week left me with little say about anything interesting with the exception that I have seen the movie Speed on television far too many times and can't imagine why anyone would have such willingness to air it on a regular basis. I have also gotten a healthy dose of Hugh Jackman, compliments of the recent unveiling of the new Wolverine movie. The weekend, on the other hand, started a little earlier for me. As I mentioned in the previous post, we now have a colonial cousin in our midst from across the pond (although, neither of us are even remotely near that pond right now). It will now be his obligation to assume to nocturnal duties that I so recently had. As it was, for the short spell of two days we shared the same shift while he observed my classes. The benefit of course being that we both had schedules that got out a little bit later but also began much later the next day. The inevitable result was a Yankee and a Brit out on the town of Gwangju. Actually, Thursday night was rather tame if not somewhat lengthy, but it held promise for Friday night when we would again share the late exit from the office.
The next night started with a trip downtown. Both of us being without cell phones and with everyone else already out, we were forced to venture out on our own. We began with a cab downtown and grabbed some food at what is called a Playboy bar but I assure everyone back home, with every ounce of my moral fiber, that it is not at ALL what it sounds like. It's actually just a Korean bar with Americanized decor. We had a couple of beers and some food before we were back on the road. Unfortunately, downtown is a series of brightly lit streets that look all the same and I, being at the helm of the venture, led us back and forth without finding a single familiar bar. The combination of my poor sense of direction, the fact that I've only been in Korea for a month and the nature of Gwangju being a city where people only speak Korean made me a very poor choice to lead, though still the more able of the two. Eventually we ran into one of the other teachers with her boyfriend who was able to direct us in the proper direction.
It was probably around 1 o' clock before our night really got a chance to get started and it began at Song's German bar where one can find a few beers with a bit of western flavor. It being the prime time for bar activity downtown, we had difficulty finding a corner to establish ourselves but eventually Terry the Brit and I were able to squeeze into a table between a group of foreigners and a group of Korean girls. It didn't take long for the four Korean girls to our one side to involve us in one of their toasts and shortly after, our twosome became a party of six. We were pleasantly surprised to learn that all four of them were proficient enough to communicate with us in English, two of them having a rather impressive handle of the language. The company was good and the obligatory round that Terry and I each had to buy wasn't all that bad to the wallet. There was discussion of venturing over to a Nae-rae Bang, which is a Korean karaoke room, but one of the girls' desire for a gin and tonic (of all drinks) brought us next door to the quintessential foreigner bar, Speakeasy. My feelings were mixed as I hoped to stay away from singing but was equally interested in seeing one of these places for myself. The rest of the night was spent here with more conversation and, though I staunchly opposed it, some dancing. I think the theory may be right that what translates into awful and erratic movements in the Statts could actually be construed as good dancing here in Korea. It seemed to work this time anyway.
Saturday night began with dinner at a new Korean barbecue place featuring the likes of Terry and myself. Afterward, we went back to see if we couldn't get Chris to join the fray before we headed back downtown. When we met him at his door he seemed in bad shape and explained promptly after that he was still recovering from the night before. Although we had a good evening ourselves, it appeared that our friend here had enjoyed himself as well during those very same hours. Though he initially showed a hesitance to come out with us, a little coaxing and cajoling managed to bump our numbers to three. From there we headed downtown and headed to Soul Train. While we were there we played some pool and met up with another teacher and two of his friends, one of which being a graduate of Michigan State who came over here and was looking to play some soccer. I told him of my similar ambitions and am hoping to see it through in the future. While we were there, Terry insisted on rounds of tequila shots as a way to assimilate better to the Korean culture. We also got to see a show involving the bartenders tossing flaming bottles, strobe lights and techno music. Apparently, this is a common occurrence though I have never been there long enough to see it before. Much later in the evening/morning, we made it to another bar where I found myself, not altogether willingly, engaged in conversation with a middle aged mailman as he showed me some of his English poetry written on a bar napkin. Unfortunately, his English poetry meant, in no way, that he was a capable English speaker and the conversation was considerably strained by a barrier that was made up of equal parts language difference and beer.
With a Friday and Saturday night well spent, the weekend was a success and we have recently been informed that a four day weekend awaits us on the other end of this week. Not entirely sure why we have Monday off, but we have Tuesday off for Children's Day which is a national holiday. I am not one to complain so I won't.
I now have my "green card" so I can get the internet which hopefully means I can get posts in more frequently. That could also mean more Skype-age so be ready America.
This is Liam Thomas signing out.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
The weekdays have started to meld together a little bit. It's a little unfortunate but working the night shift has put me in a bit of a funk. The awkward hours have kinda put my schedule into a nocturnal repetition of being awake while no one else is and being at work when no one else is. It's not a big deal though. A British guy got here yesterday and he's going to be taking over next week. I haven't met him yet but I look forward to it. He is the only teacher here that isn't from the United States or Canada, so it's good for mixing it up.
My night schedule of classes doesn't usually start until 6 o'clock so when I come in at 2 I have a different task to tackle. I've been writing 10 question, multiple choice questions for short, children's stories that classes have to read. The funny thing is that I've written upwards of twenty or thirty now but they won't get used until much later so I have no idea whether they are what they need or not. I have also noticed that as the tedium of the job begins to wear on me I find myself getting a bit punchy and making the questions more humorous than what is common of most quizzes in this world. The bi-product is also questions of varying difficulty, depending on my mood at the time. The questions are actually less humorous and more just personalized. For instance, I give the Jersey Shore and Ocean City, Maryland as a possible answers for the location of one story and gave runner as a possible profession for Pablo Picasso. The more absurd possibilities came to life and died on the floor of my mind's cutting room.
I hope I don't get fired. ( Don't worry Mom and Dad, I won't. They like me here for whatever reason.)
The weekend that just passed was rather interesting if not what I expected. The plan for Friday night was to head downtown and maybe hit some of the local haunts for a sip or two. Unfortunately, I served as somewhat of an anchor in light of my 10 o clock exit from the office. As I got ready to leave, after Skyping with my buddy Brando for a spell and finishing my Chilly Chicken over Rice from Han's Deli (My new favorite food spot), I ran int my esteemed friend and colleague Chris who had realized he forgot his apartment keys at the office after a few takes of soju at dinner. Admitting to a degree of intoxication though still holding his own perfectly well, we left the office together and made plans for the remainder of the evening.
Having mutually arrived at the decision to cab it downtown, we alit upon our chariot only for me to spot a few of our friends sitting outside one of the nearby restaurants. Though we had only been in the cab for a minute or so and been moving for maybe half a block, we willfully abandoned our 2200 won to the driver and went to see what our friends were up to. It only took the offer of a couple beers and chairs at their table for us to slowly see the agenda of the evening turn in a different direction. Some more beers and a few prizes from a claw game situated across the street from our restaurant later our thoughts of downtown were drowned by the arrival of a new pitcher of OB Blue.
Very little happened in the way of activity on Friday night but I was given the opportunity to taste yet another bizarre delicacy of the Orient. As we sat, drank and talked, a bowl on the table was brought to my attention. Lying within the bowl, I could see what, from afar, could have passed for tiny hazelnuts or something else of the sort. However, it was quickly brought to my attention that these little morsels were, in fact, silk worm larvae. Being rather certain that these unborn critters would be of greater value to me if given the chance to grow and spin expensive fabrics I wasted no time expressing my disinterest in eating them. However, knowing that those worms-to-be sitting in the bowl were destined to never become the spinners of fabric finery, my argument to hold off their consumption was paper thin and bitterly contested by the others. I could do nothing else but give in. It was only shortly after that I was instilled with a new conviction- that silkworm larvae taste like dirt and that I will never eat another one as long as I live. While I encourage trying new things, my advice to any other future wanderers that encounters this cuisine is to stay away.
Saturday welcomed me to a leisurely morning and a lunch of sushi from the restaurant on the corner of my street. It is a place that I am pretty sure I will be frequenting often during my time here in light of its proximity, economy and quality. I spent some time at the Memorial Park across the street juggling the soccerball and looking, in vain, for Chris, who had fallen asleep underneath a patch of trees after he told me to meet him there. Following a few more lazy Saturday activities I met up with Chris again and we made it over to Os.O where we took part in
some traditional Korean barbecue. From there, the night got interesting.
With most of the food finished and dinner winding down, we were asked by two young gentlemen at the table across from us to join them in a soju shot. Extremely eager to finally see this tradition of Korean hospitality at work we both graciously obliged. From there we were invited to some more shots as our two new friends showed us how to mix and match the spread of sides that comes with the barbecue properly. All the while, our limited understanding of each other's language yielded little more than the exchange of soju and fruitless hand gestures. Still, they were pesistent. Essentially speaking, what we gleaned from the conversation as a whole was that they wanted us to teach them some of our language (which is rather common, apparently) and for us to go with them to a soju bar to continue drinking. While Chris and I were torn between being considerate and taking our Saturday night elsewhere we finally gave in and agreed to go with them to the soju bar.
This where it gets a little strange.
Clearly, our two friends had been drinking more and for a longer time than us at this point and while one of them was rather quiet the other was showing signs of an altered mind. At first, he was just a little bit louder and insistent on things as he labored to communicate with us. However, tradition crossed with the peculiar when our boisterous fellow purchased a dozen or so jelly-rice rolls for dessert. What we noticed earlier, and I found very interesting, was as we took our soju shots it was customary for me to pour one of their shots and for one of them to pour mine. I considered this to be a very commendable practice. However, when I began to realize that this friend of ours was looking to imitate this practice with these dessert rolls I began to become uneasy. Suddenly, this demonstration of respect was becoming a bit awkward for an individual with American sensibilities who sees the prospect of a man feeding another man anything particularly unnerving. Still, for the sake of the cultural divide, Chris and I conceded to save face. It was bizarre, but we persevered. Unfortunately, though somewhat lucky for me, the more outwardly drunk of the gentlemen began to get a bit touchy-feely with the American seated next to him, Chris. Trapped in a booth where this guy was on the outside, my American ally could do nothing but look at me helplessly. Unwilling to be rude but with his personal space being severly compromised we made every effort to relinquish ourselves of their company by using a combined tactic of convincing them that we had work in the morning (A Sunday) and that Chris was drunk, tired and sick. It took an incredible degree of delicate diplomacy but in the end we managed to liberate ourselves from our native captors. It was then that Chris, who is Phillippino himself, declared that he will never go out with another white American in Korea again, explaining that his experience with another one of our friends at dinner the night before was much akin to the one I just narrated.
Sunday afternoon was spent checking out what downtown was like during the day and taking a look at the marketplace. We checked out one of the shopping outlets where we found a Popeye's Chicken restaurant and where I felt compelled to purchase some fried chicken for the betterment of my American arteries. I also made it to what is known as "the foreigner store" where you can buy some of those essentials from home that you can't find elsewhere on the penninsula. The final stop, and perhaps the most interesting, was Yongdong market, which is one of those places straight out of Anthony Bourdain's: No Reservations. Unfortunately, getting to the market during the later afternoon hours is ill-advised. At this point in the day, the smell of the now less than fresh fish and the accompanying swarms of flies outweighs the novelty and thrill of market shopping.
Sunday ended with a few of us heading over to our friend's house who made us some chili made with spices sent from home by her grandma. The food and company was delicious and it was my first meal that felt at all "home-cooked" since I've been here. It was a fine finish to a good weekend.
Thanks for coming out. For now, my pal Josh Groban and I bid you adieu.
My night schedule of classes doesn't usually start until 6 o'clock so when I come in at 2 I have a different task to tackle. I've been writing 10 question, multiple choice questions for short, children's stories that classes have to read. The funny thing is that I've written upwards of twenty or thirty now but they won't get used until much later so I have no idea whether they are what they need or not. I have also noticed that as the tedium of the job begins to wear on me I find myself getting a bit punchy and making the questions more humorous than what is common of most quizzes in this world. The bi-product is also questions of varying difficulty, depending on my mood at the time. The questions are actually less humorous and more just personalized. For instance, I give the Jersey Shore and Ocean City, Maryland as a possible answers for the location of one story and gave runner as a possible profession for Pablo Picasso. The more absurd possibilities came to life and died on the floor of my mind's cutting room.
I hope I don't get fired. ( Don't worry Mom and Dad, I won't. They like me here for whatever reason.)
The weekend that just passed was rather interesting if not what I expected. The plan for Friday night was to head downtown and maybe hit some of the local haunts for a sip or two. Unfortunately, I served as somewhat of an anchor in light of my 10 o clock exit from the office. As I got ready to leave, after Skyping with my buddy Brando for a spell and finishing my Chilly Chicken over Rice from Han's Deli (My new favorite food spot), I ran int my esteemed friend and colleague Chris who had realized he forgot his apartment keys at the office after a few takes of soju at dinner. Admitting to a degree of intoxication though still holding his own perfectly well, we left the office together and made plans for the remainder of the evening.
Having mutually arrived at the decision to cab it downtown, we alit upon our chariot only for me to spot a few of our friends sitting outside one of the nearby restaurants. Though we had only been in the cab for a minute or so and been moving for maybe half a block, we willfully abandoned our 2200 won to the driver and went to see what our friends were up to. It only took the offer of a couple beers and chairs at their table for us to slowly see the agenda of the evening turn in a different direction. Some more beers and a few prizes from a claw game situated across the street from our restaurant later our thoughts of downtown were drowned by the arrival of a new pitcher of OB Blue.
Very little happened in the way of activity on Friday night but I was given the opportunity to taste yet another bizarre delicacy of the Orient. As we sat, drank and talked, a bowl on the table was brought to my attention. Lying within the bowl, I could see what, from afar, could have passed for tiny hazelnuts or something else of the sort. However, it was quickly brought to my attention that these little morsels were, in fact, silk worm larvae. Being rather certain that these unborn critters would be of greater value to me if given the chance to grow and spin expensive fabrics I wasted no time expressing my disinterest in eating them. However, knowing that those worms-to-be sitting in the bowl were destined to never become the spinners of fabric finery, my argument to hold off their consumption was paper thin and bitterly contested by the others. I could do nothing else but give in. It was only shortly after that I was instilled with a new conviction- that silkworm larvae taste like dirt and that I will never eat another one as long as I live. While I encourage trying new things, my advice to any other future wanderers that encounters this cuisine is to stay away.
Saturday welcomed me to a leisurely morning and a lunch of sushi from the restaurant on the corner of my street. It is a place that I am pretty sure I will be frequenting often during my time here in light of its proximity, economy and quality. I spent some time at the Memorial Park across the street juggling the soccerball and looking, in vain, for Chris, who had fallen asleep underneath a patch of trees after he told me to meet him there. Following a few more lazy Saturday activities I met up with Chris again and we made it over to Os.O where we took part in
some traditional Korean barbecue. From there, the night got interesting.
With most of the food finished and dinner winding down, we were asked by two young gentlemen at the table across from us to join them in a soju shot. Extremely eager to finally see this tradition of Korean hospitality at work we both graciously obliged. From there we were invited to some more shots as our two new friends showed us how to mix and match the spread of sides that comes with the barbecue properly. All the while, our limited understanding of each other's language yielded little more than the exchange of soju and fruitless hand gestures. Still, they were pesistent. Essentially speaking, what we gleaned from the conversation as a whole was that they wanted us to teach them some of our language (which is rather common, apparently) and for us to go with them to a soju bar to continue drinking. While Chris and I were torn between being considerate and taking our Saturday night elsewhere we finally gave in and agreed to go with them to the soju bar.
This where it gets a little strange.
Clearly, our two friends had been drinking more and for a longer time than us at this point and while one of them was rather quiet the other was showing signs of an altered mind. At first, he was just a little bit louder and insistent on things as he labored to communicate with us. However, tradition crossed with the peculiar when our boisterous fellow purchased a dozen or so jelly-rice rolls for dessert. What we noticed earlier, and I found very interesting, was as we took our soju shots it was customary for me to pour one of their shots and for one of them to pour mine. I considered this to be a very commendable practice. However, when I began to realize that this friend of ours was looking to imitate this practice with these dessert rolls I began to become uneasy. Suddenly, this demonstration of respect was becoming a bit awkward for an individual with American sensibilities who sees the prospect of a man feeding another man anything particularly unnerving. Still, for the sake of the cultural divide, Chris and I conceded to save face. It was bizarre, but we persevered. Unfortunately, though somewhat lucky for me, the more outwardly drunk of the gentlemen began to get a bit touchy-feely with the American seated next to him, Chris. Trapped in a booth where this guy was on the outside, my American ally could do nothing but look at me helplessly. Unwilling to be rude but with his personal space being severly compromised we made every effort to relinquish ourselves of their company by using a combined tactic of convincing them that we had work in the morning (A Sunday) and that Chris was drunk, tired and sick. It took an incredible degree of delicate diplomacy but in the end we managed to liberate ourselves from our native captors. It was then that Chris, who is Phillippino himself, declared that he will never go out with another white American in Korea again, explaining that his experience with another one of our friends at dinner the night before was much akin to the one I just narrated.
Sunday afternoon was spent checking out what downtown was like during the day and taking a look at the marketplace. We checked out one of the shopping outlets where we found a Popeye's Chicken restaurant and where I felt compelled to purchase some fried chicken for the betterment of my American arteries. I also made it to what is known as "the foreigner store" where you can buy some of those essentials from home that you can't find elsewhere on the penninsula. The final stop, and perhaps the most interesting, was Yongdong market, which is one of those places straight out of Anthony Bourdain's: No Reservations. Unfortunately, getting to the market during the later afternoon hours is ill-advised. At this point in the day, the smell of the now less than fresh fish and the accompanying swarms of flies outweighs the novelty and thrill of market shopping.
Sunday ended with a few of us heading over to our friend's house who made us some chili made with spices sent from home by her grandma. The food and company was delicious and it was my first meal that felt at all "home-cooked" since I've been here. It was a fine finish to a good weekend.
Thanks for coming out. For now, my pal Josh Groban and I bid you adieu.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
I have pretty much become an organic CD recording. Because the classes at night are full of older students they are subject to Korean universal exams. This is pretty much standardized testing but considerably more important. The problem with this, as with all standardized testing, is that it's very particular and subject to concentration on memorization. Instead of learning what they are being taught they are met with an assortment of varying words and phrases strung together to create material for examination.
While I pity the students a great deal more than I do myself, I am faced with the lamentable circumstance of being the only native-speaking English teacher that works the late shift here at LCI. Consequently, it has fallen upon me to be the memorization/pronunciation teacher for all of the classes. Essentially, we are all given a a small packet with common English phrases and conversations and it falls upon me to read them aloud, repeat, have them repeat, then have them repeat individually, followed me repeating it all and then a final repeat from our young scholars. While I have the pleasure of listening to myself speak I feel awfully for the kids who have to endure this. Not to mention, it does nothing for adapting to the teaching process. The only real teaching opportunity I have is when I notice their "th"s turning to "s"s and their "r"s and "l"s freely demonstrating the law of substitution, creating words like "schoor" and "wold". (I can only say that I know how hey feel. If you can believe it, there was a time in my childhood where the "rl" combination utterly devastated my budding 1st and 2nd grade social life) Even then, it just leads to me repeating certain words over again for added emphasis.
It really isn't all that bad, but it does seem a little absurd. If nothing else, it's forcing me to pay closer to my own pronunciation. I have to be particularly cautious of the subtle Jersey accent that can weasel its way in there with certain words. While I take pride on my relatively accent-free diction, the echoes of Joe Pesci and the like creep up with words like "aunt" and "coffee". I submit, I am not perfect.
And now the day is done so I will leave you with a few riddles that they threw in at the end of the reading packets as what I assume to be an "I'm sorry" from the teacher/s that wrote them.
1. What has a neck but no head?
2.What comes down, but never goes up?
3. What has two hands and a face but no arms or legs?
4. Where can you find the largest diamond in the world?
5. Why did the little boy throw the butter out of the window?
1.A bottle
2. Rain (Korea is still not familiar with the water cycle)
3. A clock
4. On a baseball field (GO TIGERS!)
5. To see the butter"fly"
I never promised anything good.
Hugs and Kisses.
While I pity the students a great deal more than I do myself, I am faced with the lamentable circumstance of being the only native-speaking English teacher that works the late shift here at LCI. Consequently, it has fallen upon me to be the memorization/pronunciation teacher for all of the classes. Essentially, we are all given a a small packet with common English phrases and conversations and it falls upon me to read them aloud, repeat, have them repeat, then have them repeat individually, followed me repeating it all and then a final repeat from our young scholars. While I have the pleasure of listening to myself speak I feel awfully for the kids who have to endure this. Not to mention, it does nothing for adapting to the teaching process. The only real teaching opportunity I have is when I notice their "th"s turning to "s"s and their "r"s and "l"s freely demonstrating the law of substitution, creating words like "schoor" and "wold". (I can only say that I know how hey feel. If you can believe it, there was a time in my childhood where the "rl" combination utterly devastated my budding 1st and 2nd grade social life) Even then, it just leads to me repeating certain words over again for added emphasis.
It really isn't all that bad, but it does seem a little absurd. If nothing else, it's forcing me to pay closer to my own pronunciation. I have to be particularly cautious of the subtle Jersey accent that can weasel its way in there with certain words. While I take pride on my relatively accent-free diction, the echoes of Joe Pesci and the like creep up with words like "aunt" and "coffee". I submit, I am not perfect.
And now the day is done so I will leave you with a few riddles that they threw in at the end of the reading packets as what I assume to be an "I'm sorry" from the teacher/s that wrote them.
1. What has a neck but no head?
2.What comes down, but never goes up?
3. What has two hands and a face but no arms or legs?
4. Where can you find the largest diamond in the world?
5. Why did the little boy throw the butter out of the window?
1.A bottle
2. Rain (Korea is still not familiar with the water cycle)
3. A clock
4. On a baseball field (GO TIGERS!)
5. To see the butter"fly"
I never promised anything good.
Hugs and Kisses.
Monday, April 13, 2009
America's pastime in Korea.
They take 7th Inning Stretch very seriously. No YMCA here.
Dusk falling on the stadium
Equipment for the game. They came in a twin pick with a complimentary package of squid jerky. I quickly passed the jerky to more interested friend.
Tigers Stadium
This still isn't even half way down to the bottom. Lotsa steps!
The cherry blossoms from a different perspective.
Tried to go from a spot that wasn't the pagoda.
There's my invaluable look-out point for my city shots.
Top of the park with cherry blossoms putting Washington, DC to shame
Couldn't quite get a shot that I was satisfied with.
Always a sucker for a sunset.
Gwangju from the same pagoda at dusk.
Could have gotten a a picture straight on of this temple but I wanted to get the treehouse looking thing on the left too.
One guy seems ready to party but the other guy, not so much
Entering into the temple grounds in the park
One of the temple buildings in the park
I don't think they came up with that slogan
Me, finally figuring out how to take a picture at night.
Another view of the city from the pagoda
Pretty much the same thing
Gwangju at night, from the pagoda
The morning sun gracing the May 18th Park and pagoda at the top.
With the Yankees playing during the early hours of the morning and out of the gates with a modest 3-3 record, I've taken it upon myself to supplement my baseball needs with another team with nearly equal prestige. I can now call myself a fan of the Kia Tigers and with the likelihood of these two teams ever confronting each at any level of competition just above nil, I have very few qualms with sharing my loyalties.
A few of my fellow teachers and I made it out to the home opener for the Kia Tigers as they were chalked up to play against the Sumsung Lions. Looking past the blatant corporate sponsorship that is evident throughout the league I was rather amazed to see a great degree of enthusiasm among the fans in the crowd. Even though, instead of of identifying with a city or region, our dear Tigers were intimately associated with a car company, there was no lack of support for our local heroes. I was taken aback at the crowd's ability to coordinate an elaborate cheer, equipped with stomps, thundersticks and chanting even during the most insignificant parts of the game. Although my inability as a camerman will not allow you to see the footage that I tried to capture of this phenomenon, even in the first inning when there was one out and no one on base, the crowd was on its feet and and cheering for their boys in red. While we were in a section that was somewhat less galvanized by the excitement of the event there was no question that for most, this baseball game was no spectator sport.
On the teaching front, I've begun a a temporary stint of working the night shift. For everyone that I've told this to, they are all surprised at the notion of classes being taught at night. However, I wish to remind the reader that this is a country where education is rigorous, thorough and lengthy. For kids, it is something of a way of life. As a result I have a full schedule that begins at 2 PM and takes me right up until 10 PM. It's not an awful situation. I can be liberal with the amount of time spent sleeping during the morning hours and being the last one in the office lets me take advantage of the Wi-Fi that is now available here with minimal interruption. Either way, this schedule will probably only continue for another week or so until I am placed into a more permanent position.
Easter was an incredibly uneventful day. For Korea, it was just another day and even for the other American teachers it didn't seem have too much of an impact on their weekend schedules. Much of the day was spent sifting through a paper thin array of movies on television that could actually be seen in English. The result was two Die Hard movies and The Golden Compass. One can't be choosy in a situation such as this. On the bright side, I was able to wake up early this morning (Monday) and catch Easter in full swing back in the states via Skype. It was good to see and hear from the family as I huddled near an unopened cafe, stealing its wi-fi for my communication purposes. The blessing and the curse of this country is that the bars stay open until 5 or 6 in the morning. I have no complaints with having such a wide berth for evening festivities but the result is a community that stumbles awake some time around 10 o'clock. This meant that at 6 30 in the morning I was left with few options for getting the internet.
If you celebrate it, I hope you had a great Easter and, if not, I hope you had a great weekend.
For now, the Land of the Morning Calm sleeps.
A few of my fellow teachers and I made it out to the home opener for the Kia Tigers as they were chalked up to play against the Sumsung Lions. Looking past the blatant corporate sponsorship that is evident throughout the league I was rather amazed to see a great degree of enthusiasm among the fans in the crowd. Even though, instead of of identifying with a city or region, our dear Tigers were intimately associated with a car company, there was no lack of support for our local heroes. I was taken aback at the crowd's ability to coordinate an elaborate cheer, equipped with stomps, thundersticks and chanting even during the most insignificant parts of the game. Although my inability as a camerman will not allow you to see the footage that I tried to capture of this phenomenon, even in the first inning when there was one out and no one on base, the crowd was on its feet and and cheering for their boys in red. While we were in a section that was somewhat less galvanized by the excitement of the event there was no question that for most, this baseball game was no spectator sport.
On the teaching front, I've begun a a temporary stint of working the night shift. For everyone that I've told this to, they are all surprised at the notion of classes being taught at night. However, I wish to remind the reader that this is a country where education is rigorous, thorough and lengthy. For kids, it is something of a way of life. As a result I have a full schedule that begins at 2 PM and takes me right up until 10 PM. It's not an awful situation. I can be liberal with the amount of time spent sleeping during the morning hours and being the last one in the office lets me take advantage of the Wi-Fi that is now available here with minimal interruption. Either way, this schedule will probably only continue for another week or so until I am placed into a more permanent position.
Easter was an incredibly uneventful day. For Korea, it was just another day and even for the other American teachers it didn't seem have too much of an impact on their weekend schedules. Much of the day was spent sifting through a paper thin array of movies on television that could actually be seen in English. The result was two Die Hard movies and The Golden Compass. One can't be choosy in a situation such as this. On the bright side, I was able to wake up early this morning (Monday) and catch Easter in full swing back in the states via Skype. It was good to see and hear from the family as I huddled near an unopened cafe, stealing its wi-fi for my communication purposes. The blessing and the curse of this country is that the bars stay open until 5 or 6 in the morning. I have no complaints with having such a wide berth for evening festivities but the result is a community that stumbles awake some time around 10 o'clock. This meant that at 6 30 in the morning I was left with few options for getting the internet.
If you celebrate it, I hope you had a great Easter and, if not, I hope you had a great weekend.
For now, the Land of the Morning Calm sleeps.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Traffic laws here in Korea are merely suggestions. The the only difference between a red light and a green light is the color. Crosswalks are an invitation to a false sense of security and jaywalking is the norm. Apparently, it is not all that uncommon for people to get nicked or hit which is decidedly inconvenient for an individual like myself who can barely cross a street in New Jersey. My basic rule of thumb is to follow the lead of the person or people that I'm walking with which means that, in effect, I am placing my life in the hands of my ambling companion/s on a regular basis. Still, it's not all that bad. It's been over a week now and I'm still in one piece (Knock on wood).
It's Tuesday morning now and I have experienced my first Gwangju weekend. On Friday we started our evening with dinner and some soju at a nice little place in our neighborhood. The food was good and the soju was sweet so the evening kicked off rather auspiciously. At the beginning, our company was a trio, composed of one fellow teacher, the boyfriend of another teach and yours truly. The conversation was dominated by talk of New York sports when I learned that the latter of the two was from "north" jersey which actually just meant he was from Paterson. Surprisingly, he was entirely unaware of our little hamlet situated on the northwest border of Jersey and New York dominated by a place I affectionately know as Mountain Creek.
Following dinner we made it out to "downtown Gwangju" where you will find anybody who is anybody in Gwangju society, although largely dominated by college students, new professionals and my demographic, expat teachers. Our first stop on out tour of the main hits of downtown was a bar called "Speakeasy" and is known as THE foreigner bar of Gwangju. I find that it's somewhat oddly named from my perspective because foreigner, in this case, means people more like me than everyone else in the city. Then again, I'm still getting used to being considered a foreigner as well. The bar was small and dimly lit, but the boyfriend of our coworker has recently started working there so it was nice to have an in with bartender even if we didn't get any specials deals. The second bar was the most impressive because it was a "German" bar in the heart of Seoul, run by a completely Korean owner. There is nothing terribly German about the place except that he brews some of his own beers, two of which are heffeweisen beers. That being one of my favorite types, I was compelled to try them. Though not impressive or remarkable in any way, it was good to mix it up with the more traditional Korean styles. Also, I was able to snag a solid video of the owner, well on his way to intoxicated oblivion, singing Frank Sinatra on the karaoke machine in front of the entire bar. We continued on our quest to two other bars that weren't terribly noteworthy in any way but were still great places to hang out and throw a few back. The benefit of the first bar, Soultrain, was that it had a circle bar that was accessible from all sides and the second bar, Crazyhorse, was decked out in random paraphernalia including a Green Bay Packers helmet. The night, overall was rather uneventful save for my random encounter with a Brit at the foreigner bar who was dissatisfied with my backing of Chelsea in English Premier League soccer. I should've said West Ham.
The second night started out at the apartment of another co-worker where we did a number on a few bottles of Soju and raspberry wine before venturing forth into the night. We started with about four or five but as we made our way to the German bar we met up with a good four or five more acquaintances and ended up showing up with a solid crowd. We had a few beers there and got to see the owner's apparently nightly routine as he belted out yet another litany by our dearly departed Franky Blue Eyes and headed over to Crazy Horse.
It was at Crazy Horse that I came to discover an extremely peculiar aspect of being an American in Korea. For most over here, we are a novelty, and that is no more apparent anywhere than in the romantic field. Korean girls are far less bashful when approaching Americans. This, of course is a double-edged sword. It's always nice when less proactive bachelors such as myself are given more to go on when meeting new people but at the same time it can be very misleading. The motive for women to approach Americans is threefold, at least. There is, of course, the most romantic motive which is a genuine interest in the individual but it's also a great way for Korean women to seek foreigners who will teach them English at no cost and there is also the type that will look to find an American to promise marriage and, therefore, secure a comfortable livelihood in their future. I think, or maybe just hope, that these two other motives are far more rare than the others.
While at the Crazy Horse I was told, directly, that I was handsome. Apparently, this is a common conversation starter and, for me, an effective ego-booster. I was told that I look like I could be a movie star like Tome Cruise and, that I look extremely American. I'm not entirely sure how to take that last part but I'm gonna call it a compliment for now. Either way, it was an interesting experience as I continued to talk to this girl and while I do not anticipate any future, intentional encounters, I can say that it livened up my evening.
As I complete this entry it is now 8 o'clock at night and I am now two days into teaching full days with my own classes, even though I am a sub. The classes have continued to go well and I'm growing more confident as I go. There is talk of possibly heading to Seoul this weekend though it is still very much in the planning stages. I have also learned that I have to start making my travel plans for my Summer break in the next few weeks so that I can keep the prices low. Though my initial plan was Japan, the idea of Thailand has its appeal as a cheap country to visit where a lot of English is spoken. It's considered a good "beginner traveler's" destination.
We'll have to see.
It's Tuesday morning now and I have experienced my first Gwangju weekend. On Friday we started our evening with dinner and some soju at a nice little place in our neighborhood. The food was good and the soju was sweet so the evening kicked off rather auspiciously. At the beginning, our company was a trio, composed of one fellow teacher, the boyfriend of another teach and yours truly. The conversation was dominated by talk of New York sports when I learned that the latter of the two was from "north" jersey which actually just meant he was from Paterson. Surprisingly, he was entirely unaware of our little hamlet situated on the northwest border of Jersey and New York dominated by a place I affectionately know as Mountain Creek.
Following dinner we made it out to "downtown Gwangju" where you will find anybody who is anybody in Gwangju society, although largely dominated by college students, new professionals and my demographic, expat teachers. Our first stop on out tour of the main hits of downtown was a bar called "Speakeasy" and is known as THE foreigner bar of Gwangju. I find that it's somewhat oddly named from my perspective because foreigner, in this case, means people more like me than everyone else in the city. Then again, I'm still getting used to being considered a foreigner as well. The bar was small and dimly lit, but the boyfriend of our coworker has recently started working there so it was nice to have an in with bartender even if we didn't get any specials deals. The second bar was the most impressive because it was a "German" bar in the heart of Seoul, run by a completely Korean owner. There is nothing terribly German about the place except that he brews some of his own beers, two of which are heffeweisen beers. That being one of my favorite types, I was compelled to try them. Though not impressive or remarkable in any way, it was good to mix it up with the more traditional Korean styles. Also, I was able to snag a solid video of the owner, well on his way to intoxicated oblivion, singing Frank Sinatra on the karaoke machine in front of the entire bar. We continued on our quest to two other bars that weren't terribly noteworthy in any way but were still great places to hang out and throw a few back. The benefit of the first bar, Soultrain, was that it had a circle bar that was accessible from all sides and the second bar, Crazyhorse, was decked out in random paraphernalia including a Green Bay Packers helmet. The night, overall was rather uneventful save for my random encounter with a Brit at the foreigner bar who was dissatisfied with my backing of Chelsea in English Premier League soccer. I should've said West Ham.
The second night started out at the apartment of another co-worker where we did a number on a few bottles of Soju and raspberry wine before venturing forth into the night. We started with about four or five but as we made our way to the German bar we met up with a good four or five more acquaintances and ended up showing up with a solid crowd. We had a few beers there and got to see the owner's apparently nightly routine as he belted out yet another litany by our dearly departed Franky Blue Eyes and headed over to Crazy Horse.
It was at Crazy Horse that I came to discover an extremely peculiar aspect of being an American in Korea. For most over here, we are a novelty, and that is no more apparent anywhere than in the romantic field. Korean girls are far less bashful when approaching Americans. This, of course is a double-edged sword. It's always nice when less proactive bachelors such as myself are given more to go on when meeting new people but at the same time it can be very misleading. The motive for women to approach Americans is threefold, at least. There is, of course, the most romantic motive which is a genuine interest in the individual but it's also a great way for Korean women to seek foreigners who will teach them English at no cost and there is also the type that will look to find an American to promise marriage and, therefore, secure a comfortable livelihood in their future. I think, or maybe just hope, that these two other motives are far more rare than the others.
While at the Crazy Horse I was told, directly, that I was handsome. Apparently, this is a common conversation starter and, for me, an effective ego-booster. I was told that I look like I could be a movie star like Tome Cruise and, that I look extremely American. I'm not entirely sure how to take that last part but I'm gonna call it a compliment for now. Either way, it was an interesting experience as I continued to talk to this girl and while I do not anticipate any future, intentional encounters, I can say that it livened up my evening.
As I complete this entry it is now 8 o'clock at night and I am now two days into teaching full days with my own classes, even though I am a sub. The classes have continued to go well and I'm growing more confident as I go. There is talk of possibly heading to Seoul this weekend though it is still very much in the planning stages. I have also learned that I have to start making my travel plans for my Summer break in the next few weeks so that I can keep the prices low. Though my initial plan was Japan, the idea of Thailand has its appeal as a cheap country to visit where a lot of English is spoken. It's considered a good "beginner traveler's" destination.
We'll have to see.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Another day done and full work week in the past.
I still don't have an alarm clock yet so waking up today, like the four days before it, were a bit of an adventure in controlling my tendency to sleep until midday. I shot up out of bed sometime around 8:30 and sprung to action. Starting with a single bowl of Frosted Flakes (I ran out of milk, so my second bowl was a no go) I got ready for my first Korean field trip. Apparently it's uncommon for the school to explain exactly where we go on these field trips so it was an adventure from the beginning. I was under the impression that we were headed to some kind of botanical garden/park. It turns out we were going to an art museum.
I went into the museum with an open mind, unsure what to expect from Korean art and I was pleasantly rewarded. The art was varied in style and there was a vast array of colors but the best part was watching the kids look on with bewildered stares. Knowing that an art museum is a completely different world for kids than adults Brandon Teacher (that's how teachers are shown respect) and I were mostly amused by the "oohs", "aahs" and "hmms" that we told the kids to use when they saw a picture that they liked. It was difficult to repress a smile when I thought about little Barney or Dino considering things like form, balance and symmetry as they meticulously scrutinized the artistic work in front of them. We had good weather for the day and in spite of the organized chaos that was the 200+ kids running around and talking about art broken English it was a particularly enjoyable morning and afternoon.
In an attempt to maintain the authenticity of time at a Korean art museum I accompanied a few of my colleagues to a leisurely meal at the local Outback when we returned from the trip. As if entering an American embassy, when we stepped through those double doors into a world of Australian stereotypes I basked in the boomerangs and Fosters beers that graced the walls and tabletops, respectively. As I ate I learned that the three classes I would be teaching that afternoon were, in fact, going to be taught by the head English teacher while I observed and taught for only part of the class. The news was a mixture of relief and disappointment. While I felt I that I was ready to teach, these were classes that had no experience with up until then and they were a different age group from the young kindergarten classes that I had helped teach before that. The result was rather reminiscent of the first day that I took over a part of one of those kindergarten classes. In my first class it was a bit of a bomb. I kinda lost myself midway and struggled from then on. I didn't teach at all for the second class because it was a shortened period and in the third class, while I could have done much better, I feel like a got a lot more positive feedback from the students and, all in all, it was a relative success.
Now it's about 8 o'clock and the first hours of my first Korean weekend are rapidly dissipating. One of the other teachers and I are heading downtown to a bar called Soul Train and we're gonna see where the night takes us. Hopefully there will be something to tell in my next post.
Good Night and Good Luck America!
I still don't have an alarm clock yet so waking up today, like the four days before it, were a bit of an adventure in controlling my tendency to sleep until midday. I shot up out of bed sometime around 8:30 and sprung to action. Starting with a single bowl of Frosted Flakes (I ran out of milk, so my second bowl was a no go) I got ready for my first Korean field trip. Apparently it's uncommon for the school to explain exactly where we go on these field trips so it was an adventure from the beginning. I was under the impression that we were headed to some kind of botanical garden/park. It turns out we were going to an art museum.
I went into the museum with an open mind, unsure what to expect from Korean art and I was pleasantly rewarded. The art was varied in style and there was a vast array of colors but the best part was watching the kids look on with bewildered stares. Knowing that an art museum is a completely different world for kids than adults Brandon Teacher (that's how teachers are shown respect) and I were mostly amused by the "oohs", "aahs" and "hmms" that we told the kids to use when they saw a picture that they liked. It was difficult to repress a smile when I thought about little Barney or Dino considering things like form, balance and symmetry as they meticulously scrutinized the artistic work in front of them. We had good weather for the day and in spite of the organized chaos that was the 200+ kids running around and talking about art broken English it was a particularly enjoyable morning and afternoon.
In an attempt to maintain the authenticity of time at a Korean art museum I accompanied a few of my colleagues to a leisurely meal at the local Outback when we returned from the trip. As if entering an American embassy, when we stepped through those double doors into a world of Australian stereotypes I basked in the boomerangs and Fosters beers that graced the walls and tabletops, respectively. As I ate I learned that the three classes I would be teaching that afternoon were, in fact, going to be taught by the head English teacher while I observed and taught for only part of the class. The news was a mixture of relief and disappointment. While I felt I that I was ready to teach, these were classes that had no experience with up until then and they were a different age group from the young kindergarten classes that I had helped teach before that. The result was rather reminiscent of the first day that I took over a part of one of those kindergarten classes. In my first class it was a bit of a bomb. I kinda lost myself midway and struggled from then on. I didn't teach at all for the second class because it was a shortened period and in the third class, while I could have done much better, I feel like a got a lot more positive feedback from the students and, all in all, it was a relative success.
Now it's about 8 o'clock and the first hours of my first Korean weekend are rapidly dissipating. One of the other teachers and I are heading downtown to a bar called Soul Train and we're gonna see where the night takes us. Hopefully there will be something to tell in my next post.
Good Night and Good Luck America!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
POSTDATED- March 27th- This post was written in the San Francisco Airport but awaited publishing due to the lack of an internet connection. I apologize for the chronological mishap.
ARE YOU GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO?
First thing is first, I would like to applaud William Thomas Quinn for sacrificing a week in sun in Florida so that he could drive me to the airport and make this adventure possible.
“If I take one more step further, it will be the farthest I have ever been from the shire”
-Samwise Gamgee
For me, that step was taken halfway between a snooze and a half finished crossword puzzle on a six hour flight. Never, in my life, have I been this far from home.
So the journey begins…
The flight from Newark was uneventful though not uninteresting. In purchasing my plane ticket my school managed to find a seat for me in the middle of three seats. Though I am never one to balk at an opportunity to meet new people on my travels I will admit that this was not the ideal scenario for developing a rapport with complete strangers. The fellow to my right was of little note. He entered the scene with boundless promise as he sat down beside, fully equipped from a recently purchased meal from the airport Fridays, but retired to his collection of crossword puzzles that he clearly had been collecting for the whole week shortly after. The fellow on my left was a gentleman well into his middle ages who had the faint, though distinct, aroma of a fully functioning distillery. He gave me a little grief for attempting to place my luggage in the compartment directly overhead because he didn’t want me to crush any of his belongings. It was an unfortunate first encounter but he redeemed himself throughout the flight as his ipod music spilled beyond his headphones, allowing me to catch the faint sounds of Rihanna, Chris Brown, Beyonce Knowles and the like. I give him credit for being so with it in these modern days of ever-changing tastes in pop culture and hip-hop.
Upon arriving in San Francisco I was given the opportunity to eat lunch and drink a couple of pints in the morning hours without any fear of social reprisal for my actions. While the world of the west coast had only been awake for a few hours (it being 10:00am in their time) I was heading into New Jersey’s afternoon hours. However, a lunch of quesadillas and Sam Adams was quickly augmented by the arrival by a worldly soul who had clearly found himself at the bottom of a few pints himself before arriving at my own watering hole. Luckily, though there were a number of fine individuals patronizing the bar at the same time as myself, our world-traveling friend found me as his one and only kindred spirit among the masses. He mustered a number of half-finished stories about drinking while working at a pizzeria and his own exploits in foreign lands like Korea and the Philippines. I learned a number of things that I will not repeat here about these countries and while I still had some time for another drink or so I felt compelled to retreat here and let the world know about my exploits thus far.
So far, everything is right on track…
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Since I've arrived...
Hmm, where do I start. It's been a whirlwind of activity since I touched down here in the Land of the Morning Calm.
The flight from San Fran to Incheon Airport was much longer but particularly uneventful. I was fortunate enough to be place in a window seat next to an enterprising fellow who was heading to Korea on business as a representative of Hyundai. Although he was a Bostonian and a pretty avid fan of the Sox and the Pats I managed to overcome the severe ideological rift to make for a rather pleasant experience.
With the flight over and 20 hours of my life behind me I was finally in Korea- a destination that was a full month in the making. Still, the journey wasn't over. As I exited the terminal and sought out the Kraze Burger that my Korean recruiter and I had previously arranged as our meeting spot I encountered his proxy, Lee. Lee was a quiet sort, reserved yet industrious. Brandishing his sign that said "Mr. Liam Quinn" he quickly came to my aid by relinquishing me of my cart full of way too much luggage and leading me out into my first breaths of Korean air. From there he took me to a sign that, though unintelligible to me, indicated that this is where I would find the bus to take me to Gwangju. It was here that I discovered that another five hours of travel lay ahead of me before I would finally be where I needed to be. Fortunately, coach buses in Korea are far more luxurious than their American counterparts. Fully equipped with legs rests and ample personal space the bus seats recline beyond the awkward half lean that has become so characteristic of our buses back home. Needless to say, although I was intrigued by the prospect of catching a glimpse of Korea's verdant countryside, my first five hours in Korea were spent sleeping rather than sightseeing.
When I reached Gwangju proper I was touched by a short spell of desperation when I considered the four bags standing in my midst and the two hands that I had in my possession. Alone and bogged down with too much luggage to move by myself I was, in effect, stranded at a bus stop in a foreign country well beyond the reach of any familiar contacts. Desperation was quickly replace by relief when the director of the school arrived on the scene, took two of my bags and led me to his mid-sized Hyundai "Galloper" and started driving to my new apartment with nothing more exchanged than "Are you Liam?" and my respective response. Upon reaching my apartment any further exchanges were equally succinct with the director only using dialogue to illuminate me on the finer points of turning on the floor heater and, using the stove-top and showing me how to divert the water from my sink to my shower head. The director showed me around my one-room apartment in a matter of a few minutes and I was left alone shortly after to reflect on my peculiar situation. My life in Korea had begun.
The apartment was and is nothing to write home about but I will anyway, mostly so can talk about the bathroom and the floor. While the technology is readily available to the Korean people, they have an aversion towards effective methods of heating. Hailing from cultural tradition dating back hundreds of years, the method for heating a room is to heat the floor and let it rise. Though very cozy when putting your feet on the floor after waking up on a cold morning, there are very few other redeeming factors to this outdated heating system. As for the bathroom, the jury is still out whether I approve or not. Instead of having a tub or shower isolated from everything else in the bathroom,the entire bathroom IS the shower stall. When you want to shower you have to divert the water from the faucet to the shower head and just let it fly. It makes for a rather difficult time trying to keep things dry in other parts of the bathroom but makes it much easier to multitask if you so choose.
(It is currently midnight and I am still blogging at a cafe, so at the risk of omitting certain details the remainder of this post will be progress more quickly. Thank you for you continued cooperation and understanding.)
After a somewhat surreal night in my new apartment and in a new country the next day (Sunday) was spent sleeping and recovering. I met with the head English teacher at the school and he gave me a brief tour of the area surrounding the my apartment building and took me shopping for food and other necessities. When I got to the E-Mart, which is essentially a Wal-Mart on steroids if you can imagine that, Jeremy (the head English teacher) explained that while it's good to shop for certain everyday food items the cost of dining out is considerably less over and here more worthwhile when you are only looking to feed yourself. On top of that, it's the best way to try out the local cuisine.
So far, in school, I've pretty much been observing other classes. I've gotten the opportunity to teach here and there for short segments and while my first attempt was somewhat of a bomb I am getting increasingly more confident as I go. In fact, today I learned that a teacher will be in the hospital for a few days for surgery so I'll be taking over the helm for his afternoon classes in his absence. It should be a good opportunity to get the old feet wet. As for the morning class, tomorrow we're going a field trip, although no one has really told me where. Either way, it should be an interesting experience.
I'll explain more about the classes at a later date but for now everything is pretty awesome. It looks like my time and research has paid off. The other teachers are all pretty friendly and the director, although a little aloof at times, seems like a boss that you can really count on when it comes down to it. All in all, it's been a good first five days.
Once again, I apologize, this entry kinda whomped but it'll get better...pinky swear.
Tomorrow marks my first weekend here in Korea. Expect stories.
The flight from San Fran to Incheon Airport was much longer but particularly uneventful. I was fortunate enough to be place in a window seat next to an enterprising fellow who was heading to Korea on business as a representative of Hyundai. Although he was a Bostonian and a pretty avid fan of the Sox and the Pats I managed to overcome the severe ideological rift to make for a rather pleasant experience.
With the flight over and 20 hours of my life behind me I was finally in Korea- a destination that was a full month in the making. Still, the journey wasn't over. As I exited the terminal and sought out the Kraze Burger that my Korean recruiter and I had previously arranged as our meeting spot I encountered his proxy, Lee. Lee was a quiet sort, reserved yet industrious. Brandishing his sign that said "Mr. Liam Quinn" he quickly came to my aid by relinquishing me of my cart full of way too much luggage and leading me out into my first breaths of Korean air. From there he took me to a sign that, though unintelligible to me, indicated that this is where I would find the bus to take me to Gwangju. It was here that I discovered that another five hours of travel lay ahead of me before I would finally be where I needed to be. Fortunately, coach buses in Korea are far more luxurious than their American counterparts. Fully equipped with legs rests and ample personal space the bus seats recline beyond the awkward half lean that has become so characteristic of our buses back home. Needless to say, although I was intrigued by the prospect of catching a glimpse of Korea's verdant countryside, my first five hours in Korea were spent sleeping rather than sightseeing.
When I reached Gwangju proper I was touched by a short spell of desperation when I considered the four bags standing in my midst and the two hands that I had in my possession. Alone and bogged down with too much luggage to move by myself I was, in effect, stranded at a bus stop in a foreign country well beyond the reach of any familiar contacts. Desperation was quickly replace by relief when the director of the school arrived on the scene, took two of my bags and led me to his mid-sized Hyundai "Galloper" and started driving to my new apartment with nothing more exchanged than "Are you Liam?" and my respective response. Upon reaching my apartment any further exchanges were equally succinct with the director only using dialogue to illuminate me on the finer points of turning on the floor heater and, using the stove-top and showing me how to divert the water from my sink to my shower head. The director showed me around my one-room apartment in a matter of a few minutes and I was left alone shortly after to reflect on my peculiar situation. My life in Korea had begun.
The apartment was and is nothing to write home about but I will anyway, mostly so can talk about the bathroom and the floor. While the technology is readily available to the Korean people, they have an aversion towards effective methods of heating. Hailing from cultural tradition dating back hundreds of years, the method for heating a room is to heat the floor and let it rise. Though very cozy when putting your feet on the floor after waking up on a cold morning, there are very few other redeeming factors to this outdated heating system. As for the bathroom, the jury is still out whether I approve or not. Instead of having a tub or shower isolated from everything else in the bathroom,the entire bathroom IS the shower stall. When you want to shower you have to divert the water from the faucet to the shower head and just let it fly. It makes for a rather difficult time trying to keep things dry in other parts of the bathroom but makes it much easier to multitask if you so choose.
(It is currently midnight and I am still blogging at a cafe, so at the risk of omitting certain details the remainder of this post will be progress more quickly. Thank you for you continued cooperation and understanding.)
After a somewhat surreal night in my new apartment and in a new country the next day (Sunday) was spent sleeping and recovering. I met with the head English teacher at the school and he gave me a brief tour of the area surrounding the my apartment building and took me shopping for food and other necessities. When I got to the E-Mart, which is essentially a Wal-Mart on steroids if you can imagine that, Jeremy (the head English teacher) explained that while it's good to shop for certain everyday food items the cost of dining out is considerably less over and here more worthwhile when you are only looking to feed yourself. On top of that, it's the best way to try out the local cuisine.
So far, in school, I've pretty much been observing other classes. I've gotten the opportunity to teach here and there for short segments and while my first attempt was somewhat of a bomb I am getting increasingly more confident as I go. In fact, today I learned that a teacher will be in the hospital for a few days for surgery so I'll be taking over the helm for his afternoon classes in his absence. It should be a good opportunity to get the old feet wet. As for the morning class, tomorrow we're going a field trip, although no one has really told me where. Either way, it should be an interesting experience.
I'll explain more about the classes at a later date but for now everything is pretty awesome. It looks like my time and research has paid off. The other teachers are all pretty friendly and the director, although a little aloof at times, seems like a boss that you can really count on when it comes down to it. All in all, it's been a good first five days.
Once again, I apologize, this entry kinda whomped but it'll get better...pinky swear.
Tomorrow marks my first weekend here in Korea. Expect stories.
Statue commemorating the May 18 Uprising that marked the beginning of progress towards a democratic state.
From aerial view this circle plaza forms a yin yang. Cool, but I don't fly enough to appreciate it.
Sculpture outside of a rec. center. (Korean basketball court in the background.)
My apartment building. (Top right window)
In a world where I can't read street signs and get lost every two seconds it's nice to have an apartment building that looks completely ridiculous.
300,000 won. No big deal.
Poorly lit view of my street.
Yup, that's my bed with the purple blankets.
It's nothing special but it's home.
Apparently this sign tells me that this bus will take me where I want to go.
Last American Beer in the states (well, second to last)
Yeah, just showing off now.
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