Heeelllllooo and welcome to the much awaited post you’ve all been asking for. A lot has gone on since last I’ve put pen to ink (so to speak), some of it new, cool and exciting and some of it less so. I do apologize for the space of time between this post and the last but I promise a lengthier edition this time around for you to absorb piece by piece or in a single, gluttonous sitting.

I find it necessary that I begin with less happy but more important news first to shed a great deal more light on one of the causes of my absence from the editor’s block.

The Quinn family recently and suddenly lost one of it’s cornerstones in the death of my Grandpa Jack. The shock penetrated the family deeply in it’s abruptness and suddenness. Though, perhaps not the youngest or sprightliest of men, our Grandpa had always struck me as one who would be with us for years to come. That may partially be the consequence of wishful thinking on my part, but all the same, the news put me well on my heels. He will be dearly missed by all who knew him and lovingly remembered in the hearts and minds who survive him. The wish that I could be there for the funeral and family was and is eclipsed only by the realization that my Grandpa is smiling somewhere with the knowledge that I am doing something over here that makes me and happy and makes him proud.

It is to be certain that distance holds no bearing or validity when contemplating the bonds that exist between and among families as close as my own. In spite of such distance, I commemorated my Grandfather in my own humble and quiet way. On a warm evening, not even a week ago, I ventured up to the pagoda that sits atop the highest part of the park nearby. From my vantage point, I peered out onto a dappled city of yellows, reds, blues, greens and oranges and let my mind dwell on late patriarch of the Quinn Family. With a Budweiser in hand (one of the first beers I ever had and the first one I ever had my Grandpa and my Dad), I remembered a great man who will be missed but not forgotten.

While my mind returns to my Grandpa Jack frequently, it does not mean that life over here ceases to be.

While I will have difficulty trying to organize and figure out what I should tell you first and what I should tell about in detail or just mention in passing, I will do my best to paint a picture of my life in the past weeks.

I think it would be wise to first increase your familiarity with the kindergarten class that I have inherited, now that I am far more acquainted with them since last I posted. I decided that the best way for you to meet my eleven 7 year-old (5 in American years) charges is to give them to you in a quick and neat fact sheet, covering the most basic points of each individual. This will be conducive for getting a better understanding of who they are as well as ease the process for those of you keeping score at home

(Though they all have Korean names that are rather difficult to pronounce, much less remember, they have also been given “Western” names for convenience’s sake)


Ariel- If I had to say, I would probably define Ariel somewhere along the lines of the “the popular girl”. She seems to get along relatively well with everyone in the class and while she does not act spoiled or bratty she definitely demands attention. I can’t remember any of her show and tells off hand, though it’s her turn tomorrow so I will get another chance to be wowed. Her “Kiss Day” (yup, kiss day) is every Monday after circle time and she is paired with John, although I am detecting a bit of a rift lately and wouldn’t be surprised if Kiss Day became a thing of the past in the near future, unless Jamie makes his move.

Bobby- Bobby is my eyes and ears, perhaps to the point of excess. You could say he qualfies as a bit of a tattle tale. However, do not be misled by this initial comment of negativity. He’s a kid who strives to impress. He is much easier to teach than some of the others because of this. If I tell him to do something, he’s pretty good about doing it the first time.

Gladis- Gladis is the one with her head in the clouds. I envy her for ability to simply wander off on whimsical tangents at a moments notice. She is one of those students that you can reprimand one moment and in the next, her smile is back and she’s as happy as she was before it ever happened. On the other hand, I don’t envy her teacher when he is trying to get her to focus. This tendency to wander makes keeping her on task a job in itself. FANTASY NOTE: You can expect this student to come up big on cute points and but look out for weeks with tough material. You may want to keep her on the bench when the class gets to harder sciences and when they are working with words that end in “Y”.

Kristi- Kristi makes the class ridiculously more rewarding and much easier to teach. She constantly has a smile and listens to everything you say. While I prefer a more freelance style of class, I’ve had to resort to a “raise your hand, don’t call out policy” for the time being. Amazingly, even in the midst of the uproar of hoots and hollers that occur before Liam Teacher says something, she remains composed and quiet, with her hand in the air and the right answer on her mind. She is always first on the list when it comes to giving her the better jobs like passing out the pencils or erasers, though she’s perfectly happy with passing out or collecting the books. If I admit favorites, she may well have earned the honor.

Jamie- Jamie has the goofy-cute card going well in his favor. The Korean teachers love him, especially my Korean teacher- Christine Teacher- which goes long way within the walls of LCI Academy. Some of his more notable tricks and stunts is laughing extremely hard to the point that snot is running down to his nose until it reaches the dreaded mouth region. The “Prestige” to his trick is pretending to enjoy letting it seep into his mouth and, sometimes, I’m convinced that he does.

John- I consider John Ariel’s counterpart and not simply because they are Kissing Buddies. That just reiterates my convictions. I find his wit to be a little bit more cleverly contrived than Jamie’s slapstick one-man show and actually think he might be one of the smarter kids in the class. He sometimes has a knack for mischief, and I admit that I let him get away with it a little bit more than the others. I can’t say exactly why, but I’m a big fan of this one.

Andy- Andy will be my project for the year. He is clearly going to be the most difficult to control and the most likely to cause trouble in the class. I have, for the sake of my Uncle John (not the bathroom reader guy), labeled him as “Bad Andy”. He is far more mischievous than Jamie or John and it seems like he sometimes does it with purely malicious intent. Though almost all of my kids do this, he is the king of the tattle-tale of fictitious events. He will tell me about things that happened that never actually transpired or, largely in his case, blame someone else for doing what he did to that student. I try not to single him out but he is the only one who has been sent out of the class almost every day since I’ve taken over the class. He is my work-in-progress.

Daniel- Daniel is Gladis’ counterpart. Though not as airy, he is rather difficult to get to pay attention. I would have to say that English comes a little bit harder to him than others. Also, I kinda worry about the kid a little. At circle time, when I ask everyone how they are he always tells me that he is “good and bad” because his little brother hits him. I hope he toughens up a little in the next few years or that this little brother of his is an uncharacteristically strong child. Still, he’s a quiet kid who likes to smile so he’s okay in my book.

Mark- Mark is a pretty smart fellow. I think he picks up random things more than the others. While he may have a bad streak from time to time when he’s in proximity to Andy, he is pretty well-behaved and speaks English rather well. On a few occasions, when we are in a more casual situation such as when we are on a field trip or doing the birthday party thing in class, I find myself acting buddy-buddy with him. He’s a pretty savvy cat and gets most of what I throw at him.

Mike- Mike is another quiet kid who likes to smile. He understands English rather well and speaks it pretty well too, but for some reason, math just doesn’t work for him. I have taught him addition and subtraction and how they are different at least five times but it still hasn’t quite clicked. If I didn’t have to worry about losing the rest of the class to do it, I wouldn’t mind taking the time to teach him in detail but it is an ENGLISH school and we only get so much time with math so I can’t afford to do it. He is also the male counterpart to the only other Kissing Couple in the class and, if you ask me, a part of the one that is more likely to survive the rough patches that such a relationship is heir to.

Jenny- Jenny is a bubbly one. She likes to smile and she loves getting out of her chair. She can be hectic but I do enjoy having her. She brings candy for show and tell so she’s a good sharer and she has a pair of butterfly wings that she wears to class that makes the hardest heart soften a bit. She is also Mike’s Kissing Buddy so she keeps good company.

Now that you know my class a little bit better, let me get you up to speed with some of the things I’ve been up to elsewhere.

Just this past weekend we had a big publicity event at the other school on the opposite side of the city to promote it’s opening. The school has been around for a year or so and while it is bigger and the facilities are newer, it’s enrollment is still below ours so we’re working on changing that. The theme of the event was carnival games and it was up to the Sangmu Teachers (That’s us) to operate that end of the event while the Bongsungdong Teachers (the teachers at the new school) ran the educational-fun classes inside the classrooms. While they were given the more plush and, well, less demeaning jobs of the two sets of teachers we still benefited by not having to do any work outside of being there. The day itself required extensive preparation on the part of the other teachers that was apparently on the worst side of grueling.

We were given the choice of a number of different games to operate. You had your classic games like knock the bottles down and ring toss but my interest was piqued by the game simply entitled “Balloon Toss”. I figured it promised to be a little more eventful and didn’t mind getting a little wet for the sake of a good time. My buddy Chris was quick to sign up alongside me and the situation had the promise of a pretty awesome time, in spite of the fact that we had to work on Saturday. For most of you reading, the idea in your head of a balloon toss looks much like two lines of participants facing each other and tossing balloons from one side to the other with the hope that the watery explosive being exchanged between the two of you remains in tact until the end. This is what I had in mind when I signed up. Apparently, in Korea, or at least at my school, that picture is a little different. In this picture there are two hapless individuals standing on one side of a box while young children throw these same watery explosives with the expressed intent to make them blow up somewhere on your body, preferably in the face region. There is a certain degree of comfort that comes to a 22- and 23- year old when they confront the prospect of being thrown at by kindergarteners, primary schoolers and the odd middle-schooler. That comfort comes in the knowledge that, given enough distance, it shouldn’t be all that difficult to dodge the majority of balloons being tossed your way. However, in reality, that pre-arranged distance with the system of one thrower at a time tends to break down in a relatively rapid fashion. By the end of the game (when we finally ran out of balloons), though more like 5 minutes into it, the game had become a crowd of motley Korean children armed with water balloons, all firing from point blank or closer. Any hope of emerging with a dry garment anywhere on our person quickly diminished. Fortunately for us, after a harrowing session of target practice, we were informed that there would be two more sessions following that one and in the time between those sessions, it would be our duty to scurry to the roof of the building in our drenched clothing so that we could fill more water balloons- the very water balloons that we would find hurtling towards our skulls in the not too distant future. The day ended with all of us present beleaguered and ready to enjoy the one free night we had afforded after working through our Saturday.

In all reality, the day was actually fun and hardly seemed to qualify as “work”. What was better, the directors had promised us yet another “Roof Party” at the new school and they came through brilliantly. Appealing to the varying tastes among both Foreign and Korean teachers, we were served pizza, chicken and “Korean-Chinese Food” which, like American Chinese, is not actually Chinese but still delicious. In addition, there was ample soju and beer to help Chris and me forget that we failed to bring a change of clothes and that we would be stuck in our wet clothes for the duration of the festivities.

Another event worthy of mention happened about two weekends ago. In light of the good time that we had at our first Kia Tigers game, despite their loss, we made a return trip with the hopes of changing our fortunes. Unfortunately, the day had an inauspicious start when Terry and I accompanied Chris through town to get him a cell phone. I will alert all readers now that when you are trying to get a cell phone in a country where the language is not one that you speak or understand, do not go without someone who does speak it or understand it. This is something that we did not do. The result was an hour and a half of hand gestures, failed attempts at using the few phrases we have in our repertoire and a lot of sighing and gnashing of teeth. Fortunately, after making a few phone calls with the clerk’s cell phone to more seasoned friends, we managed to make some headway in our endeavor. It was an endeavor that we would have easily given up on if we hadn’t put so much time into it already and if Chris wasn’t dead set on getting a cell phone that day. The tragedy and irony of the whole thing in the end was twofold: 1) Because of a discrepancy in his visa, he wasn’t able to actually get the phone registered until after the weekend so taking all that time when we should have been somewhere else was unnecessary 2) It turned out, on Chris’ return that Monday, that the clerk spoke Japanese which is a language that Chris speaks as well.

Ultimately, the group we had planned on going with had already left and the three of us headed over there sometime later. After grabbing a somewhat pricey cab, by Gwangju standards, walking through traffic and around the stadium to the entrance we were met with the disheartening news that the game was sold-out. My first reaction was disbelief. Of course I bleed red and black for my Tigers but the idea of a Korean baseball game, in a league of only 8 teams (meaning the Tigers would be seeing this very same team countless times in the future) still left me lost for words. Suddenly, we were outside of the stadium, without any tickets, a full cab ride away from home and without any plan for our Saturday. We decided that our best plan of attack was to sit outside the stadium for a little bit, listen to the crowd and sulk as we dwelled on our misfortune. However, it wasn’t long after we opened our first beer that we saw a distressed woman in her car trying to drive through a narrow road between the stadium and the wall on which we sat. The fact that the road was narrow, coupled with the fact that this woman wasn’t all that great of a driver made the task of navigating her car through this street a rather daunting obstacle. Nonetheless, we jumped down and tried to help as best we could with hand motions and tonal shouts. After a little while, another man came to help. With his command of the Korean language, being as he was a Korean man himself, he became indispensable in finally finagling this car through the street and away from the stadium. Thinking our job done, the three of us returned to our place on top of the wall to brood further upon our sorry situation. Luckily, the man who had helped us only moments before noticed us and addressed us with a very pertinent question, “Why you no game?”. It took a simple response , “No tickets” and the man was on his cell phone and getting us five tickets for the game. In no time, we were inside the stadium with two extra tickets that we had no idea what to do with. We had gone from rags to riches in the span of one good deed.

We got into the game and enjoyed ourselves but we have vowed to never step foot in that stadium again. While we were outside and sulking, the Tigers had a 3-run lead. When we finally got inside the lead disappeared and we never recovered. We pushed ourselves to an 0-2 record at games we have attended. Though my heart aches to never hear the echoes of Tigers Stadium or catch the whiff of stale kimbap on the air, the sacrifice to Kia’s men in red is well worth it.

As per usual, there are a bunch of things I could still say, but my tendency to be long-winded and overly dramatic has whittled more of the midnight oil than I care to think about. My last thoughts of this entry go with my comrades-in-arms back home who will be suiting up for the first Ballyowen game of the season this year in a matter of hours, right around the time I will be waking up. To them I wish them the best of luck and reassure them that my presence will not be missed. As it is, my competitive nature got the best of me the other day while I was participating in a harmless arcade game. It was a soccer game standing outside of a restaurant where you have to kick and actual ball that is connected to a lever and it records a score based on how hard you kick it. I decided to give it my all and I am certain that I strained something connecting my shin to other things on my leg. While not serious from what I can tell, I plan on staying away from that arcade game for awhile, maybe forever. Either way, I expect good news from the boys in black in the near future.
Strike it up, Bally!


Once again, sorry for the long time between entries. I will aim to write another one much sooner than last time. I hope everyone enjoys my most recent update. Until then, I say goodnight and good afternoon to my friends to the West.

Friday night commenced with a potluck dinner on the rooftop of the school, featuring the collective faculty of both our school and the LCI Academy on the other side of the city. Lacking any real capacity for cooking, a colleague of mine and I found ourselves making a last minute run before the party to the local Lotte Mart where we purchased some sushi just so we could say we brought something. That same sushi was destined to meet the ground later on due to an unbalanced table and some intoxication, but I digress. More to the point, the means of intoxication was brought by the the directors themselves, meaning it was both permitted and encouraged on company grounds. The night involved American music, good conversation, a loosening of the social boundaries that divide the English teachers from the Korean teachers and some dancing that ranged from weak to wonderful (of which I took no part in).

After a nice evening with everyone, a few of us wandered downtown and continued the festivities there. We met up with a number of other friends who left the party before us so that we could celebrate one of the last nights with the teacher who is being replaced by me. It was a group that remained in tact for the duration of three different bars before the Brit and I randomly encountered the Korean friends that I mentioned in the last post. We both decided to remain in their company as plans to sally forth to a Nae-rae-bang materialized. Both reluctant and expectant, we made it over there and set ourselves up in a private room where a a table surrounded by a wrap-around booth and all the paraphernalia for karaoke awaited us. It took a little while for anyone to get the nerve up to be the first one, but eventually our Korean "hosts" took the first step and belted out a melody for the all present to listen. The night continued on with an array of performances, as our ears were both graced and gutted by the varying degrees of mellifluous and raucous noises that escaped our mouths. I still remain apologetic for subjecting others to the combined train crash that was my terrible voice and my tone deaf control of that voice along with my general ignorance of the majority of words to the majority of songs. The rest of the night included a various number of different people coming in and out of the room and trays of different foods and bottles of soju that flowed rather freely. I will not report on this forum the time of night/day that we exited that nae-rae-bang but it was a thorough experience of the Korean culture.

Saturday was somewhat like the eye of the storm of a four day weekend. We went downtown but nothing of any real note occurred. One regret that emerged from that day was the fact that we didn't make it out anywhere beyond Gwangju. While it was a good weekend much of it wasn't spent doing things that couldn't be done back in the States.

Sunday was a day well spent at the Memorial Park. The weather was beautiful so the Brit, Chris and I went out in the afternoon and basked in the sun beneath the shadows of the memorial's majesty. Chris held court on a rock with his rabbit, Moochi, as Koreans approached him unabashedly to get a look at his pet. Terry and I whiled the hours playing around with the football, passing it and juggling. Later on, as the sun began to retreat behind the mountains beyond the city limits, a trio of Korean high schoolers approached us with interest in challenging us to a game of soccer. We complied by setting up a water bottle on either end of our makeshift field and dividing into two sides, East vs. West. We began at an easy pace with neither side showing an advantage but as soon as they put the first ball into our Dasani, I deemed it necessary to make the Ballyown Soccer Club proud. The result was a 3-2 victory featuring a hat-trick and a goal that went between the defender's legs by yours truly. The West had won...

The night was spent eating at a Korean barbecue (again) and then heading over to a local bar to drink a few pints, eat a LOT of complimentary popcorn and watch our Kia Tigers fall after getting the tying run up to bat in the ninth. The game was unfortunate but the night was still good.

On Monday, we headed out to the mountains to check out some scenery. When I first heard that we were going to the mountains I was expecting more of a hiking experience but when we met up with Jeremy, the head English teacher and organizer of the excursion, we learned that it would be a bit different than expected. We did a little bit of walking, were surrounded by some pretty impressive natural sites and got to see another Buddhist temple that seemed less out of place than the one in the center of the city but it wasn't more than 30 minutes of walking before we stopped at one of a few little tent-huts where we were able to dine on some very authentic Korean food and Korean beer for lunch. Afterward, we took a bus back into the city proper where we fell asleep right up until our stop and were rather lucky to have not missed it. The night went similar to the last one with the exception that we did dinner at that same bar instead of at the Korean barbecue and we watched Korean Women's Bowling instead of Tiger baseball.

It was decided the night before that Tuesday (the last day of our vacation) would be spent barbecuing at the park. We had such a good time there that we had to go back. There we encountered a couple from work that was enjoying yet another day of sunlight at the park and convinced them to take part in our Australian-American pastime. I purchased the grill my self with the express purpose of using it many times again in the future and we split the cost for the food. Unfortunately, it was only a few white charcoals and half-cooked sausages later that we were told we couldn't barbecue in the park. Our only alternative was to retreat back into the confines of our neighborhood and awkwardly continue our barbecue in the street outside of a closed mini-mart. It wound up not being what we anticipated but our unwillingness to allow our spirits be dashed managed to preserve our good time. The rest of the day slid gently into an evening of recuperation and preparation for a return to the grind. A grind that will only be three days long.

Today was our first day back from the vacation and all things are well and accounted for. The weekend is missed but the nearness of the next one makes any difficulty palatable.

A happy birthday goes out to a number of friends and acquaintances that have had birthdays in the recent days and weeks. Maybe next year...

I think I speak for countless generations in America that were born anytime before 1990 or so when I stress the tragic magnitude of my misfortune that is being in a country that celebrates a Childrens Day at a time in my life that numerically places me beyond the cusp of childhood. I still hear the echoing laments from children of a decade ago wishing that somewhere in the line of days dedicated to Mothers, Parents, Flags and Trees there might be a single one commemorating our overlooked though essential niche of society. Now that I am finally country that recognizes this gift of youthful naivete I can do so only as bygone celebrant.

On the other hand, such festivities do warrant two days off, yielding a four day weekend that begins in 9 minutes. ( I have the interesting fortune of having a prep period at the very end of the day). Before I touch upon my plans for these four days I feel the need to first recount the things that have already happened.

Last night was my first night hanging out with actual Korean friends. I realize you readers out there are stunned and amazed by such a feat but I will go further to say that I was the only foreigner among the three of us. I will also qualify thos achievement by admitting that they both speak English rather well and that one of them was a dual English/Korean major at university. This basically means I was talking to two individuals who spoke my language but happened to grow up in Korea. Nothing terribly spectacular but still something.

When we decided to hang out on a Thursday night I immediately assumed that it would be an early start and an early finish. This assumption was summarily dismissed when I learned that they didn't get off of work until 9:30 pm, which meant that they pretty much had the schedule that I had before I started working mornings. As I have mentioned and many of you will have assumed, this creates an opportunity or temptation to spend a late night enjoying yourself while allowing you ample time to recover and make it to work the next day. I certainly balked at the prospect of starting a night so late but it would have been rather uncharacteristic of me to decline an offer to be sociable.

The night began at around 10 o'clock when I met the first of my new friends in front of a Starbucks near where I work. We walked to a traditional Japanese restaurant and ordered food. Interestingly enough, I was in Korea, in the company of Koreans , but somehow managed to go to a Japanese restaurant and order a plate of sausage, complete with a side of kraut and kimchi. I was, by no means unhappy with what we ordered, but taken aback by the irony of the situation.


(This post was written on Friday but was interrupted by outside influences. It is now Monday evening. I apologize for the abrupt ending.)

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.

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.

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.

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.