1. This weekend I went to Daejeon. It’s the fifth largest city in Korea with a population of about 1.5 million. Its known to be the science and technology hub of Korea and so, understandably, the only reason I went there is because I've taken quite a fancy to another English teacher who works in the area - and I mean really English, like with the odd accent you can't understand and everything!
2. Joe, the English man (englishmaninsouthkorea.blogspot.com), is a charming sort of bloke so naturally picks me up from the subway at 9pm already smelling strongly of rice wine. The reasons for his early celebration having to do with the Daejeon teachers just finishing an additional three week training course for two hours everyday after school. I would have needed liquor as well.
3. I meet the Daejeon crew who are all nice, amusing or odd (a lovely combination in my books). I seem to make an alright impression. I make much better first impressions when my audience is already half pissed.
4. After staying out too late to catch the subway all the way home we wake up the next morning in time to go out for lunch with Joe's co-teacher, the Guv'nor. A native Korean who spent his younger teenage years in Utah, the Guv'nor speaks in fluent un-accented English and is a man whose ability to find you what you need in Daejeon is matched only by his wicked taste in food. We feast on some delectable Korean-Chinese food just outside the city limits. The Guv'nor agrees to take us out next time to another one of his top ten restaurants in Deajeon.
5. The Guv'nor is kind enough to take us to Expo Park where there is a dinosaur exhibit that Joe assures me he has free tickets for. But when we arrive at the ticket booth they wrangle 24,000 won out of us for entrance. Which would have been fine if the museum wasn't...on to the next point!
6. The museum was shite! There was a 3-D experience that consisted of standing in front of 9 posters with some blue and red glasses. Joe's yelp of surprise and quick jump back as he realized the large (15 feet) plastic dinosaurs moved was priceless but short lived. Nearby children jumped on a 10 foot high inflatable triceratops. Our inability to play in the children's sandpit where you could dig up bones (due to ageism) or play on little tricycles (due to Korean height restrictions for children's toys) soon ended our visit.
7. We then decided to wonder around Expo Park. It was an eerie experience. The Guv'nor had told us it had been losing money ever since it was built and we soon understood why - it felt like walking through a ghost town. I was buoyed to continue by the site of a roller coaster in the distance. Joe continued to be displeased.
8. On entering the amusement park section of the Expo we were greeted with more of a crowd- but not much. Joe gets a picture with a person dressed up in a pseudo-tele-tubby costume. The only difference being that this large headed green creature has a sour face and is holding a large brown plastic liquor bottle. He interacts with the children all day by chugging from his bottle and nearly falling off benches. They familiarize the kids early with drunkenness in Korea.
9. I practically have to drag Joe over to buy tickets to the roller coaster as he makes every detour imaginable to distract me. Joe doesn't like roller coasters, and while I'm usually scared of such things as well making Joe scared makes me happy and distracts me from my own fear. I keep on repeating the word 'dinosaurs' to indicate that he owes me.
10. Joe is a really good sport about it in the end- which makes me nervous as we buckle in. It’s a small roller coaster by most standards but it scares the crap out of me. The only reason I seem okay is because Joe is yelling through every twist and turn and loop-da-loop in the seat next to me.
11. After the ride and some ice cream we decide to find out where we can get the double bicycles we'd seen people on earlier. The bicycle-built-for-two looks a bit like a rickshaw to Joe. Two bicycles are welded together side by side and incased within a frame with a basket on the front for smaller children to sit in. There are two steering wheels but only the driver's side one works. We choose the blue one.
12. Joe drives first while I take pictures (including one of a confused Korean child on top of a giant plastic crocodile). We shout 'hello' back at the Korean teenagers that wave at us. Joe enjoys jerking the wheel wildly to jostle me around in the midst of my shots and because of the open frame I feel like I'm going to fall out every time.
13. Then its my turn. In Canada I never got my license and it clearly shows. Joe tries to steer from the passenger seat numerous times. We switch again.
14. Unable to drive I direct which path we should take. I goad Joe in the direction of the 93 meter tower (Expo '93) in the center of the park. Around the base of the tower is a wide circular area of sleek stone with a sharp drop off (moat style) about ten feet from the tower. And because I tell Joe to stay away from the edge he widely steers towards it...don't worry this is not where the crash happens.
15. Ready to punch the Brit he graciously allows me to steer again. As I change my spot the English man decides to become a Jamaican bobsledder. He starts pushing the bicycle contraption as I peddle readying himself to jump on. Due to my bad driving skills and poor nerves, from the antics of a limey bastard, I take a sharp turn around an on coming obstacle.
16. The counterbalance of the rickshaw bike is completely thrown off due to my missing partner. The rickshaw bike lurches...it tilts...it comes down hard on its side directly on top of me!
17. Joe is quick to respond and lifts the rickshaw off my trapped leg. I take a second. I feel pain- that's good right? I avoid any major injury and escape only with a few bruises on each leg and a scratched ankle. The bicycle had toppled in what seemed like slow motion giving me enough time to move myself mostly out of harm's way.
18. A bit guilt ridden the Brit agrees to steer us back. We discuss our plans on returning our rickshaw which has sustained some injury, including a bent pedal, torn sign, and dislocated front carriage, we decide on the 'dump and run' scenario. We walk as quickly and inconspicuously as possible toward the front gate.
19. Limping along, ;), we explore the famous Daejeon arched bridge and make our way to the nearest subway to meet up with friends coming in from Wonju. We take a couple more wanker shadow picture along the way.
20. We meet Jakub and the Safers of Wonju plus two new Canadians! (though I think I meet some ill will when I sighed dejectedly that they were Canadians, yet again, from the Greater Toronto Area.) We ate at a nice little corner restaurant which suited Jakub's dietary needs (really? you can't eat spicy food and you come to Korea?...he's lost about ten pounds since he's been here).
21. We exchanged some gossip, retold my near death experience and talked about their plans to undertake a two hour hike up a mountain at 8am the next day...would we like to join them?...ummm, no- we point to our footwear, chucks, as a pathetic excuse.
22. After some final drinks the mountain keeners leave and we head to the apartment of some of Joe's Deajeon friends. After a football match no really cared for anyway, its seems both teams are widely hated in Britain due mainly to the fact that both teams are really good which is something not tolerated in the U.K, and some drinks we head out for the night.
23. We head out to a dance club called Cocoon. We dance the night away and mingle with a few Koreans and show them our North American style dance moves which involve lots of hip movements, droppin' it likes it’s hot, and a version of the Carleton a la 'The Fresh Prince of Bel Air'.
24. We again wake up late and have to head out to make sure I can catch a bus going back to Chuncheon. We stop in the old downtown area for some eats. We buy spicy chicken from some street vendors and then we hit up the best bakery in Daejeon. This is the first time I see any Easter decorations in Korea- the bakery has a nice Easter display set up. When Joe buys his food they give him an egg. Not knowing it was hard boiled I refuse to have it cracked on my head fearing Joe wants to ruin my awesome plaid shirt.
25. We soak in the sun- finally the first signs of warm weather to come- while eating our bread. We end our time together buy taking, what is becoming, the traditional picture, of our Chuck shoes side by side. I'm stuffed in a taxi to the bus terminal and there ends my weekend.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Story of the Lost Key
I've been in Korea a little more than a month now and I've already had a series of misfortunes.
I nearly cried in front of my principal and co-teacher because I was so nervous and distraught about my placement in a high school instead of a elementary school.
I was able to keep it to a minimum of my eyes welling up when I was told my co-teacher, the only person I'd meet who spoke decent English, would leave me in two days before the start of classes and would not return for six months. The reason for his absence was that he did not like teaching in the high school I was now employed in.
All of my co-teachers, save one, are new to teaching this year and are, in many respects as clueless as me. The students bullied one co-teacher, paid her little respect, and it was me who had to tell them to stop. A great deal of my candy was stolen in the first week by a bunch of these students while they were cleaning the room under another teacher's supervision.
On top of all this I got so sick within the first two weeks that I had to go to a doctor and be placed on antibiotics, which I had an allergic reaction to and had to get yet another prescription.
And then comes the story of my lost key...
A friend of mine had recommend I take up running. I've been blessed with an averaged sized body that needs little up keep to stay trim so while I look in shape (enough) I've never really 'been in shape'. I wanted to try to change that while in Korea. The goal was to be able to do a 5km, or maybe even 10km, run by May. This was the plan about three weeks ago and I had yet to start.
I decided that on Monday after school of this week I would start. I walked directly home to change so I could not change my mind. I would not eat super until I returned.
I was very minimal- I wore my EPIK sweater, a pair of long shorts and my running shoes. The only other things I took were my MP3 player and the key to my apartment. Since I had no pockets I tucked my key into my bra. A safe keeping place I had used for my key when working in the food service industry where the girl pants without pockets were required for the job.
So off I went. I had chosen a road a block from my own place that looked like it went on unaltered by side roads for quite a while. I was determined to run until I hit an intersection. Oh determination- what a bloody pain in the ass that turned out to be!
I have no idea how far I ran because I wasn't good at judging the distance but lets just say it was pretty far for a first timer. I was pretty impressed with myself, despite my slower speed. I made it to the intersection and turned back and made it about half way back before I started to get really tired and decided to walk the rest of the way home. It was at about 3/4 the way home when I started thinking about home and the dinner of pizza I would have. I reached down my shirt and felt for my key along my bra line. I felt again.
There was nothing there. I gave my boobs another full feel around the bottom area near the wire and still nothing.
I patted myself down. I looked at the ground. I looked towards home with a longing expression and then back from where I had come. I turned and started walking back with my head to the ground looking for my key.
Along the way I harassed several Koreans with my simple English and ridiculous hand gestures "Key. I drop. My Key. Did you SEE a KEY?" They all said 'no' and backed around me with a wide berth.
I got all the way to the intersection and dejectedly turned again to walk home. About 1/2 way home with my head to the ground I say a Korean man approaching going the same direction as me. I did my simple key question again. His answer was negative as well but because we had a similar gait and were going in the same direction he was beside me for most of the way home.
He asked where I was from, how old I was, where I worked and where I lived ...all rather normal non-intrusive questions in Korea.
The hunt for my key was looking like a complete failure and recognizing this the Korean Man, we shall call him Mr.S, asked if I had a phone, knew the number of my friend, or had an extra key with someone. To which I replied 'no' to all.
He frowned " I friend...speak English good."
He got out his phone and dialled a number. He talked for a minute and handed the phone to me. "Good English."
And his friend certainly did speak good English! As I kept my head to the ground looking for the key all the way into my apartment building his friend said that Mr.S would call a locksmith for me so I could get into my house.
Mr. S called the locksmith as we waited at my door with no key in hand. He asked me " You cannot find key- right?"
I started to pat myself down again I was patting down my chest again when I realized Mr.S was looking at me funny. I stopped short of a full examination.
Mr. S called the locksmith and then took me to eat at a Chinese food place across the street...best random bowl of noodles and unknown sauce I've ever had.
As we were leaving to meet the locksmith the owner of the store came jogging after us with something in her hand.
Ironically, after trying to help a wae-gook look for her key for near an hour, Mr.S had almost forgotten his own keys in the shop. We both shared a hearty chuckle at this as we left.
The locksmith had already broken into my place by the time we arrived.
Mr.S talked to the locksmith about getting me a new lock because I didn't have a key.
The locksmith disappeared down to his truck for the lock and while we waited I asked Mr.S if he wanted to wait inside.
"Come in? You no roommate...no friend...no roommate."
He looked absolutely terrified of the idea. He hesitantly stepped in though.
I got out my phone and called our Chuncheon coordinator Mr.C who speaks both English and Korean. I tell him what happened and just let him know that I want him to make sure Mr.S knows I'm very thankful.
I hand the phone to Mr.S and he starts talking...then he starts laughing and I know they are laughing about me. I don't mind- I'm in my apartment!
Mr.S hands me the phone back and Mr.C starts laughing at me.
"You meet this man on the street and you got him to help you look for your key and invited him all the way to your house..."
"Yeah...I...I mean I thought Koreans were very friendly."
"They are, they are but....(laughing continues)."
"I wanted to give him something. Something to say thank you..." I trail off thinking that the only thing I have is some extra wine from what I brought as gifts for my co-teachers.
Mr.C is done laughing and hasn't really heard me. "It seems that your okay just give me a call if there is anything else and I'll be right over."
"Okay, thanks"
The locksmith is done. I've paid him his money and he's given me three keys. Both Mr.S and the locksmith start to leave. I motion for Mr.S to wait. I want to give him something.
He points at his chest "Me? Why?"
'One minute' I motion.
I run back and get the wine and bring it to the door. I'm holding it near me because I don't want to give it to the locksmith who is looking and waiting for the elevator. I try to pass it Mr. S but as soon as he sees the bottle he's backing off and saying "No, No, No". He's quickly peddling backwards and waving his hands in front of himself. If he could have run I swear he would have.
I call out thank you and good-bye as the man hurries to the elevator but I don't think he hears me.
As I close the door to my apartment I realize that Mr.S has probably though I was trying to come on to him.
While we ate I asked him how old he was and then said he looked young for forty years old.
I had my hand up my shirt trying to feel for my keys along the wire of my bra while he couldn't help but notice.
I had asked him into my house when I didn't have a roommate (to supervise?).
And because I held the wine to my chest for so long he must have thought that I was not trying to give him the bottle but trying to ask him back in to share a drink.
I leaned against the door.
'You know,' I thought 'at least it all was worth it. Without my key or any way to get a locksmith I wouldn't be in my warm apartment right now.'
I started to change into my pyjamas - 'At least it was worth it'
PLONK!
I had taken off my bra and what had fallen to the floor...
My Key!
And that story lets you know a little about the luck I've been having in my new life in Korea. A series of misfortunes have befallen me on my journey but I'm still glad that a simple retelling of any of them with the right spin can make a listener laugh so hard that they lose their breath. Because even though I've found my share of obstacles along the way this first month in Korea has been one of most memorable and exciting in all my life.
Here's to many more! Cheers!
I nearly cried in front of my principal and co-teacher because I was so nervous and distraught about my placement in a high school instead of a elementary school.
I was able to keep it to a minimum of my eyes welling up when I was told my co-teacher, the only person I'd meet who spoke decent English, would leave me in two days before the start of classes and would not return for six months. The reason for his absence was that he did not like teaching in the high school I was now employed in.
All of my co-teachers, save one, are new to teaching this year and are, in many respects as clueless as me. The students bullied one co-teacher, paid her little respect, and it was me who had to tell them to stop. A great deal of my candy was stolen in the first week by a bunch of these students while they were cleaning the room under another teacher's supervision.
On top of all this I got so sick within the first two weeks that I had to go to a doctor and be placed on antibiotics, which I had an allergic reaction to and had to get yet another prescription.
And then comes the story of my lost key...
A friend of mine had recommend I take up running. I've been blessed with an averaged sized body that needs little up keep to stay trim so while I look in shape (enough) I've never really 'been in shape'. I wanted to try to change that while in Korea. The goal was to be able to do a 5km, or maybe even 10km, run by May. This was the plan about three weeks ago and I had yet to start.
I decided that on Monday after school of this week I would start. I walked directly home to change so I could not change my mind. I would not eat super until I returned.
I was very minimal- I wore my EPIK sweater, a pair of long shorts and my running shoes. The only other things I took were my MP3 player and the key to my apartment. Since I had no pockets I tucked my key into my bra. A safe keeping place I had used for my key when working in the food service industry where the girl pants without pockets were required for the job.
So off I went. I had chosen a road a block from my own place that looked like it went on unaltered by side roads for quite a while. I was determined to run until I hit an intersection. Oh determination- what a bloody pain in the ass that turned out to be!
I have no idea how far I ran because I wasn't good at judging the distance but lets just say it was pretty far for a first timer. I was pretty impressed with myself, despite my slower speed. I made it to the intersection and turned back and made it about half way back before I started to get really tired and decided to walk the rest of the way home. It was at about 3/4 the way home when I started thinking about home and the dinner of pizza I would have. I reached down my shirt and felt for my key along my bra line. I felt again.
There was nothing there. I gave my boobs another full feel around the bottom area near the wire and still nothing.
I patted myself down. I looked at the ground. I looked towards home with a longing expression and then back from where I had come. I turned and started walking back with my head to the ground looking for my key.
Along the way I harassed several Koreans with my simple English and ridiculous hand gestures "Key. I drop. My Key. Did you SEE a KEY?" They all said 'no' and backed around me with a wide berth.
I got all the way to the intersection and dejectedly turned again to walk home. About 1/2 way home with my head to the ground I say a Korean man approaching going the same direction as me. I did my simple key question again. His answer was negative as well but because we had a similar gait and were going in the same direction he was beside me for most of the way home.
He asked where I was from, how old I was, where I worked and where I lived ...all rather normal non-intrusive questions in Korea.
The hunt for my key was looking like a complete failure and recognizing this the Korean Man, we shall call him Mr.S, asked if I had a phone, knew the number of my friend, or had an extra key with someone. To which I replied 'no' to all.
He frowned " I friend...speak English good."
He got out his phone and dialled a number. He talked for a minute and handed the phone to me. "Good English."
And his friend certainly did speak good English! As I kept my head to the ground looking for the key all the way into my apartment building his friend said that Mr.S would call a locksmith for me so I could get into my house.
Mr. S called the locksmith as we waited at my door with no key in hand. He asked me " You cannot find key- right?"
I started to pat myself down again I was patting down my chest again when I realized Mr.S was looking at me funny. I stopped short of a full examination.
Mr. S called the locksmith and then took me to eat at a Chinese food place across the street...best random bowl of noodles and unknown sauce I've ever had.
As we were leaving to meet the locksmith the owner of the store came jogging after us with something in her hand.
Ironically, after trying to help a wae-gook look for her key for near an hour, Mr.S had almost forgotten his own keys in the shop. We both shared a hearty chuckle at this as we left.
The locksmith had already broken into my place by the time we arrived.
Mr.S talked to the locksmith about getting me a new lock because I didn't have a key.
The locksmith disappeared down to his truck for the lock and while we waited I asked Mr.S if he wanted to wait inside.
"Come in? You no roommate...no friend...no roommate."
He looked absolutely terrified of the idea. He hesitantly stepped in though.
I got out my phone and called our Chuncheon coordinator Mr.C who speaks both English and Korean. I tell him what happened and just let him know that I want him to make sure Mr.S knows I'm very thankful.
I hand the phone to Mr.S and he starts talking...then he starts laughing and I know they are laughing about me. I don't mind- I'm in my apartment!
Mr.S hands me the phone back and Mr.C starts laughing at me.
"You meet this man on the street and you got him to help you look for your key and invited him all the way to your house..."
"Yeah...I...I mean I thought Koreans were very friendly."
"They are, they are but....(laughing continues)."
"I wanted to give him something. Something to say thank you..." I trail off thinking that the only thing I have is some extra wine from what I brought as gifts for my co-teachers.
Mr.C is done laughing and hasn't really heard me. "It seems that your okay just give me a call if there is anything else and I'll be right over."
"Okay, thanks"
The locksmith is done. I've paid him his money and he's given me three keys. Both Mr.S and the locksmith start to leave. I motion for Mr.S to wait. I want to give him something.
He points at his chest "Me? Why?"
'One minute' I motion.
I run back and get the wine and bring it to the door. I'm holding it near me because I don't want to give it to the locksmith who is looking and waiting for the elevator. I try to pass it Mr. S but as soon as he sees the bottle he's backing off and saying "No, No, No". He's quickly peddling backwards and waving his hands in front of himself. If he could have run I swear he would have.
I call out thank you and good-bye as the man hurries to the elevator but I don't think he hears me.
As I close the door to my apartment I realize that Mr.S has probably though I was trying to come on to him.
While we ate I asked him how old he was and then said he looked young for forty years old.
I had my hand up my shirt trying to feel for my keys along the wire of my bra while he couldn't help but notice.
I had asked him into my house when I didn't have a roommate (to supervise?).
And because I held the wine to my chest for so long he must have thought that I was not trying to give him the bottle but trying to ask him back in to share a drink.
I leaned against the door.
'You know,' I thought 'at least it all was worth it. Without my key or any way to get a locksmith I wouldn't be in my warm apartment right now.'
I started to change into my pyjamas - 'At least it was worth it'
PLONK!
I had taken off my bra and what had fallen to the floor...
My Key!
And that story lets you know a little about the luck I've been having in my new life in Korea. A series of misfortunes have befallen me on my journey but I'm still glad that a simple retelling of any of them with the right spin can make a listener laugh so hard that they lose their breath. Because even though I've found my share of obstacles along the way this first month in Korea has been one of most memorable and exciting in all my life.
Here's to many more! Cheers!
My Second Day
My second day in Chuncheon was Feb. 27 2010.
I was left all by myself.
My first co-teacher Mr. H had taken me to the house of my team-teacher Ms. Kim the night before at her behest.
She was hosting another EPIK teacher, Kelly, because her daughter Sujin was Kelly's co-teacher at another school and Kelly did not have an apartment yet. Mr. H was not keen to stay long so we departed shortly after.
Nestor had left me his old phone, which was good for three more days, so I passed the number on to Sujin and Mr.H. Sujin and Kelly made a plan to meet up with me in the afternoon of the next day. Mr. H left me at my apartment door the first night with a promise that he would call sometime before he left in the next two days to check in. I never heard from him again.
So, with a vague sense of where the grocery store was I set off for it in late morning hours.
As I came to the first intersection and was starting to doubt my directional abilities, which had always been shit, my borrowed phone started to ring. It was Nestor!
I stood at the corner of a four way intersection and started to explain how I was lost on the way to the grocery store. As I described, badly, my surroundings Nestor tried to orientate me again towards the GS Mart. I probably looked like the most confused wae-gook any Korean had ever seen squinting in four directions and speaking loudly into my phone that "There is a store with a sign that has Korean writing on it across from me... so where am I?"
At that moment, out the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of someone running across the road, ignoring the traffic lights, directly toward me. I turned in fright- North Koreans!- but no it was Bryan, my camera suave friend from orientation who came to Chuncheon with his wife Dani. Seeing a familiar face I started to jump rapidly up and down, with the phone still to my ear,as he charged towards me. Bryan grabbed me around the waist as I was up in the air and nearly had me to the road before my practical side shouted at him that we should wait for the light.
I said good-bye to Nestor and Bryan and I, where a moment before we had been yipping and yelling at each other, stood docile and calm waiting for the light. When we got the green light we sprinted to the car across the road which contained Dani and her co-teacher Sunny.
As Sunny gave us a tour of Chuncheon I told Bryan and Dani about my placement and recounted first day stories. Sunny pointed out interesting sites including where you could get a good taste of dog meat in Chuncheon...Dani and I quickly repeated the word dog meat in Korean (Kaegoggi) so we could stay away from it.
Sunny was nice enough to drop me back off at my apartment for my meeting with Sujin and Kelly. With them I went grocery shopping at the new, large supermarket Lotte Mart and tried to find Kelly some more school clothes in an underground mall with little success. While there Sujin tested me on my Korean lettering- which was poor- but she was encouraging so it was nice.
So my second day in Chuncheon was not so much a lesson of how to defend for yourself as it was learning the art of mooching off other's co-teachers. I have to say, I became quite good at it.
I was left all by myself.
My first co-teacher Mr. H had taken me to the house of my team-teacher Ms. Kim the night before at her behest.
She was hosting another EPIK teacher, Kelly, because her daughter Sujin was Kelly's co-teacher at another school and Kelly did not have an apartment yet. Mr. H was not keen to stay long so we departed shortly after.
Nestor had left me his old phone, which was good for three more days, so I passed the number on to Sujin and Mr.H. Sujin and Kelly made a plan to meet up with me in the afternoon of the next day. Mr. H left me at my apartment door the first night with a promise that he would call sometime before he left in the next two days to check in. I never heard from him again.
So, with a vague sense of where the grocery store was I set off for it in late morning hours.
As I came to the first intersection and was starting to doubt my directional abilities, which had always been shit, my borrowed phone started to ring. It was Nestor!
I stood at the corner of a four way intersection and started to explain how I was lost on the way to the grocery store. As I described, badly, my surroundings Nestor tried to orientate me again towards the GS Mart. I probably looked like the most confused wae-gook any Korean had ever seen squinting in four directions and speaking loudly into my phone that "There is a store with a sign that has Korean writing on it across from me... so where am I?"
At that moment, out the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of someone running across the road, ignoring the traffic lights, directly toward me. I turned in fright- North Koreans!- but no it was Bryan, my camera suave friend from orientation who came to Chuncheon with his wife Dani. Seeing a familiar face I started to jump rapidly up and down, with the phone still to my ear,as he charged towards me. Bryan grabbed me around the waist as I was up in the air and nearly had me to the road before my practical side shouted at him that we should wait for the light.
I said good-bye to Nestor and Bryan and I, where a moment before we had been yipping and yelling at each other, stood docile and calm waiting for the light. When we got the green light we sprinted to the car across the road which contained Dani and her co-teacher Sunny.
As Sunny gave us a tour of Chuncheon I told Bryan and Dani about my placement and recounted first day stories. Sunny pointed out interesting sites including where you could get a good taste of dog meat in Chuncheon...Dani and I quickly repeated the word dog meat in Korean (Kaegoggi) so we could stay away from it.
Sunny was nice enough to drop me back off at my apartment for my meeting with Sujin and Kelly. With them I went grocery shopping at the new, large supermarket Lotte Mart and tried to find Kelly some more school clothes in an underground mall with little success. While there Sujin tested me on my Korean lettering- which was poor- but she was encouraging so it was nice.
So my second day in Chuncheon was not so much a lesson of how to defend for yourself as it was learning the art of mooching off other's co-teachers. I have to say, I became quite good at it.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Orientation
Orientation
There were many opinions and much advice offered to me about traveling to Korea.
I remember two bits of information that pertained to my experience at Orientation.
The first was an opinion given to me by people who, even though excited for me, were weary that I would find the experience difficult and be very lonely. They said:
“As a single girl I think you will be very lonely in Korea. Those who go to Korea are either couples, who can depend on each other in difficult situations, or they are guys who go over looking only to score with Korean girls. Most single girls are very lonely. Have fun.”
The second was a piece of advice given to me by my neighbor back home who had taught in Korea for a year (coincidentally, she went with her fiance). She said:
“Just say ‘yes’ to every invitation you get. You want to meet people and build up a network. The people you meet and hang out with will be your support group when the homesickness kicks in. You want to start building a life in Korea. You don’t want to be hiding alone in your room every night talking to friends back home about how you are so lonely.”
May I say, that orientation has proved one of these correct and the other not so much.
EPIK Orientation is a week long survival training course for new native English teachers. During the course of seven days you get your medical check up, start a bank account, go to lectures on different ways to teach, prepare and handle a class, go on a cultural field trip, receive survival Korean lessons and socialize with other teachers.
We sleep two to a room in a standard dormitory except that each dormitory has its own bathroom which, in turn, has no floor divider between the shower stall and the rest of the washroom. This means that the water you run for the shower gets all over the floor and there is a single drain that it all goes down. This is why they provided every EPIK teacher slippers because the bathroom floor is always wet.
The first night I arrived I was down in the hall just looking confused when a guy approached me and asked if I wanted to go out at such and such a time with a larger group. I readily agreed. I in turn invited a couple more people. We ended up across the street at a bar and drank soju, which is like vodka but with less alcohol content and very popular in Korea.
It happened every night like this. I am not a heavy drinker at all so as it turns out I probably drank more in that first week, even though I was a light weight compared to most other people, then I have in almost six months. Everything from this first week has become a blur.
I meet so many different people and hopefully have made some lasting connections that will stay strong- or at least strong enough for me to visit them on the weekend once or twice. So, as you can guess it was the second piece of advice that I really took to heart. I avoided the first signs of homesickness by filling my day, or what little part of it was left for me to decide about, with making new friends. In turn, I learned that for many reasons the first part of advice wasn't all that true. Sure, there were a few guys you could pinpoint as having an over affection for the Korean aesthetic or who just liked their ego stroked by being able to make Korean girls descend into giggles with a wave of their english hand. But even then, they could make good company.
The couples that I made good friends with were also very cool and not exclusionary at all- including a pair who I will hit up later to have photography adventures with. Another flaw in the opinion that I would be lonely is that the speaker forgot that there would be an abundance of single girls that I could relate to and make friends with. Sure! We may be lonely but at least we can be that way together! ...right...hey, what do you mean you found a nice Korean boy to party with this weekend and your dropping out of our Saturday night Pictionary game with Baskin Robins ice cream...but, but...
There were many opinions and much advice offered to me about traveling to Korea.
I remember two bits of information that pertained to my experience at Orientation.
The first was an opinion given to me by people who, even though excited for me, were weary that I would find the experience difficult and be very lonely. They said:
“As a single girl I think you will be very lonely in Korea. Those who go to Korea are either couples, who can depend on each other in difficult situations, or they are guys who go over looking only to score with Korean girls. Most single girls are very lonely. Have fun.”
The second was a piece of advice given to me by my neighbor back home who had taught in Korea for a year (coincidentally, she went with her fiance). She said:
“Just say ‘yes’ to every invitation you get. You want to meet people and build up a network. The people you meet and hang out with will be your support group when the homesickness kicks in. You want to start building a life in Korea. You don’t want to be hiding alone in your room every night talking to friends back home about how you are so lonely.”
May I say, that orientation has proved one of these correct and the other not so much.
EPIK Orientation is a week long survival training course for new native English teachers. During the course of seven days you get your medical check up, start a bank account, go to lectures on different ways to teach, prepare and handle a class, go on a cultural field trip, receive survival Korean lessons and socialize with other teachers.
We sleep two to a room in a standard dormitory except that each dormitory has its own bathroom which, in turn, has no floor divider between the shower stall and the rest of the washroom. This means that the water you run for the shower gets all over the floor and there is a single drain that it all goes down. This is why they provided every EPIK teacher slippers because the bathroom floor is always wet.
The first night I arrived I was down in the hall just looking confused when a guy approached me and asked if I wanted to go out at such and such a time with a larger group. I readily agreed. I in turn invited a couple more people. We ended up across the street at a bar and drank soju, which is like vodka but with less alcohol content and very popular in Korea.
It happened every night like this. I am not a heavy drinker at all so as it turns out I probably drank more in that first week, even though I was a light weight compared to most other people, then I have in almost six months. Everything from this first week has become a blur.
I meet so many different people and hopefully have made some lasting connections that will stay strong- or at least strong enough for me to visit them on the weekend once or twice. So, as you can guess it was the second piece of advice that I really took to heart. I avoided the first signs of homesickness by filling my day, or what little part of it was left for me to decide about, with making new friends. In turn, I learned that for many reasons the first part of advice wasn't all that true. Sure, there were a few guys you could pinpoint as having an over affection for the Korean aesthetic or who just liked their ego stroked by being able to make Korean girls descend into giggles with a wave of their english hand. But even then, they could make good company.
The couples that I made good friends with were also very cool and not exclusionary at all- including a pair who I will hit up later to have photography adventures with. Another flaw in the opinion that I would be lonely is that the speaker forgot that there would be an abundance of single girls that I could relate to and make friends with. Sure! We may be lonely but at least we can be that way together! ...right...hey, what do you mean you found a nice Korean boy to party with this weekend and your dropping out of our Saturday night Pictionary game with Baskin Robins ice cream...but, but...
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Saying Good-bye
I was happy with my life in Fredericton (well, not completely seeing as thought I had graduated with a Masters in October and was only working part-time at Wal-Mart folding little girls' clothes and making sure no one broke baby food on the floor that I would have to clean up.).
But I had friends I could count on and independence.
So, when the time came near for me to leave I gripped on to Fredericton with a white knuckled grasp.
But it was okay because it was my father and brother who came to send me off.
My plane left at 5am so instead of getting little sleep I worked out it was better to have no sleep at all. My friend MHL came to keep me up, stuff my sheets and, a last minute decision that I can never regret, my stuffed animal Piglet into my overflowing Canadian hockey bag, only one of two huge pieces I brought with me.
By the time my father came to take me to the airport I was weary, tired and had been crying due to the last farewell. So, little were the higher facilities of my brain functioning at this time that when I had to take out weight from my bags I attempted to stuff the bottles of ice wine and maple syrup into my carry ons.
"Ummm..." my brother's deep voice intoned above me as he looked on. "Isn't there a restriction on liquids in carry-ons"
With a grey cloud hanging over my head and deep circles under my eyes I grumbled and re-arranged again.
My father is a good man and all but he deals very awkwardly with emotions. As I stood waiting to go through security with tears welling in my eyes, and bogged down by heavy carry-ons he said only "Well, have a good trip then", as though completely oblivious to my emotion, and I'm not discounting the idea that he actually was.
But this probably turned out to be the right thing. In the end there was nothing to cling to. Would it have been different if my mother was there? If she asked if I was okay would I have wept openly and turned back?
Well, probably not because the tickets had been very expensive and I was nothing if not cheap!
The first leg of the flight was from Fredericton to Toronto. I settled on to the plane, propped my winter jacket up as a pillow and was so exhausted I went to sleep even before the plane took off and didn't bat an eyelash again until the plane was taxiing the runway in Toronto.
At the Vancouver airport the only other person at my gate when I got there was a white girl. I approached her and asked by her clearly non-Korean appearance if she was an EPIK teacher. She said yes and she ended up becoming my roommate when we got to the dormitory in Eulgui University in Seongnam for our orientation.
As we departed the plane in Incheon International Airport in Korea we had to board a train to the main terminal for immigration clearance and our luggage. As we waited on mass for the train to arrive I looked up at the ceiling.
For a moment I thought I was going mad- but no I wasn't- there were five or six huge light tiles that ran across entire ceiling above the waiting area for the train. They were all different bright colors- pink, green, yellow, blue... reminded me of Easter- and they all started to pulsate and change different colors. Now, that's the kind of reception every jetlagged traveler wants...right?
Having seen a picture of Seoul at night, I knew this was only a small taste of what Korea had to offer in terms of eye catching light displays. And to think, one EPIK teacher's mother was afraid for a her child going to Korea because she thought it was a third world country - "Do they even have electricity over there?"
But I had friends I could count on and independence.
So, when the time came near for me to leave I gripped on to Fredericton with a white knuckled grasp.
But it was okay because it was my father and brother who came to send me off.
My plane left at 5am so instead of getting little sleep I worked out it was better to have no sleep at all. My friend MHL came to keep me up, stuff my sheets and, a last minute decision that I can never regret, my stuffed animal Piglet into my overflowing Canadian hockey bag, only one of two huge pieces I brought with me.
By the time my father came to take me to the airport I was weary, tired and had been crying due to the last farewell. So, little were the higher facilities of my brain functioning at this time that when I had to take out weight from my bags I attempted to stuff the bottles of ice wine and maple syrup into my carry ons.
"Ummm..." my brother's deep voice intoned above me as he looked on. "Isn't there a restriction on liquids in carry-ons"
With a grey cloud hanging over my head and deep circles under my eyes I grumbled and re-arranged again.
My father is a good man and all but he deals very awkwardly with emotions. As I stood waiting to go through security with tears welling in my eyes, and bogged down by heavy carry-ons he said only "Well, have a good trip then", as though completely oblivious to my emotion, and I'm not discounting the idea that he actually was.
But this probably turned out to be the right thing. In the end there was nothing to cling to. Would it have been different if my mother was there? If she asked if I was okay would I have wept openly and turned back?
Well, probably not because the tickets had been very expensive and I was nothing if not cheap!
The first leg of the flight was from Fredericton to Toronto. I settled on to the plane, propped my winter jacket up as a pillow and was so exhausted I went to sleep even before the plane took off and didn't bat an eyelash again until the plane was taxiing the runway in Toronto.
At the Vancouver airport the only other person at my gate when I got there was a white girl. I approached her and asked by her clearly non-Korean appearance if she was an EPIK teacher. She said yes and she ended up becoming my roommate when we got to the dormitory in Eulgui University in Seongnam for our orientation.
As we departed the plane in Incheon International Airport in Korea we had to board a train to the main terminal for immigration clearance and our luggage. As we waited on mass for the train to arrive I looked up at the ceiling.
For a moment I thought I was going mad- but no I wasn't- there were five or six huge light tiles that ran across entire ceiling above the waiting area for the train. They were all different bright colors- pink, green, yellow, blue... reminded me of Easter- and they all started to pulsate and change different colors. Now, that's the kind of reception every jetlagged traveler wants...right?
Having seen a picture of Seoul at night, I knew this was only a small taste of what Korea had to offer in terms of eye catching light displays. And to think, one EPIK teacher's mother was afraid for a her child going to Korea because she thought it was a third world country - "Do they even have electricity over there?"
Monday, March 8, 2010
Beginning Thoughts
I’m a long-winded individual which may be a forgivable trait if I thought I possessed any talent for writing anymore. It’s been a long time since I’ve kept any type of journal and the diary I bought for the occasion of keeping together my thoughts and memories of these travels abroad sits on my dresser untouched by ink. I’m a reformed introvert of sorts. The odd characteristics of my person that in one environment left me with little friends, odd stares, massive amounts of time for journaling, and discovering my inner-self were actually considered interesting and (who would of thunk?) charming in another setting. I’ve been riding on a high tide of having friends to do things with. However, that has also left me more open to peer-pressure. And my friends on my travels abroad have assured me the in vogue thing to do now is blog.
So, here I go.
I call it running away.
Running away from home and denying the responsibilities inherent in leaving school for the first time in one’s life. The idea that I’m not a student anymore is still a bit overwhelming to me. Even months after finishing my Masters degree at the University of New Brunswick I hung around the library. Mostly for the free internet I was still entitled to as alumni but in part for the socializing, academic, and creative atmosphere found there.
The idea of going to South Korea to teach had been a distance thought in my head since starting my one year Masters degree in History. What does one do with a Master of Arts if having no desire to be a Professor? (Seriously, isn’t the title of ‘Master’ so much cooler than ‘Dr.’?) Well, why not travel and pay off my student loan all in one go until I have myself sorted in terms of life goals or other such grown up things?
It was hard to go for sure and that’s why I followed through with every step of the process as unemotionally as possible. My philosophy being that there are times I have to push myself out of my comfort zone to achieve lasting experiences and at the point when I ask myself “What the bloody f***ing hell am I doing?” I want it to be too late to turn back, and it was.
I could have settled in New Brunswick, a quite little nook of Eastern Canada, that I had moved to from another Maritime province- Nova Scotia. Fredericton, N.B, was a clean, well-kept capital city community with a religious core and an ever revolving liberal minded set of university students to populate the streets and keep the shops running. Just the right amount of conflict. I loved it. I was getting nervous about moving away, and then I remember questioning one of the friends I made over the summer about why he makes Halifax, Nova Scotia his home. He said something near this… “because I made it my home. It wasn’t like here where I grew up with all the same people and we became friends because we were near each other. I loved the idea of going to a completely new place and starting afresh and making whole new friends of my own.”
The words comforted me because they were in many ways my own in regards to Fredericton and there was no reason I couldn’t try to do it again half a world away.
So, here I go.
I call it running away.
Running away from home and denying the responsibilities inherent in leaving school for the first time in one’s life. The idea that I’m not a student anymore is still a bit overwhelming to me. Even months after finishing my Masters degree at the University of New Brunswick I hung around the library. Mostly for the free internet I was still entitled to as alumni but in part for the socializing, academic, and creative atmosphere found there.
The idea of going to South Korea to teach had been a distance thought in my head since starting my one year Masters degree in History. What does one do with a Master of Arts if having no desire to be a Professor? (Seriously, isn’t the title of ‘Master’ so much cooler than ‘Dr.’?) Well, why not travel and pay off my student loan all in one go until I have myself sorted in terms of life goals or other such grown up things?
It was hard to go for sure and that’s why I followed through with every step of the process as unemotionally as possible. My philosophy being that there are times I have to push myself out of my comfort zone to achieve lasting experiences and at the point when I ask myself “What the bloody f***ing hell am I doing?” I want it to be too late to turn back, and it was.
I could have settled in New Brunswick, a quite little nook of Eastern Canada, that I had moved to from another Maritime province- Nova Scotia. Fredericton, N.B, was a clean, well-kept capital city community with a religious core and an ever revolving liberal minded set of university students to populate the streets and keep the shops running. Just the right amount of conflict. I loved it. I was getting nervous about moving away, and then I remember questioning one of the friends I made over the summer about why he makes Halifax, Nova Scotia his home. He said something near this… “because I made it my home. It wasn’t like here where I grew up with all the same people and we became friends because we were near each other. I loved the idea of going to a completely new place and starting afresh and making whole new friends of my own.”
The words comforted me because they were in many ways my own in regards to Fredericton and there was no reason I couldn’t try to do it again half a world away.
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