Students!

I have been having a fantastic time in Korea and sometimes I have to remind myself that I am here for one very specific reason: I am an English teacher. With so much exciting stuff going on around me I get caught up in writing about the new and fascinating while the banality of everyday life gets glossed over and omitted. It dawned on me this morning that what is regular and routine to me is still new and potentially (and hopefully) interesting to you.

So here are some of my students. They are 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders (the equivilent of 6th, 7th and 8th graders in the US) at the Yuseong Sports Middle School where I teach on Fridays. 90% of the reason they are here is so that they can practice their sport. The kids stay in dorms and are allowed to leave 2 weekends per month. I try to tailor my lessons at this school to the fantasy I have of them all going to the Olympics in the future and getting interviewed in English. In this dream the kids will be faced with new and strange things like American breakfast options, holidays and taxi drivers. At the very least I want to teach them not to say the phrase I used to hear them say all the time: "HelloHowAreYouNiceToMeetYouILoveYou" to English speakers.

These kids are different from my other students at Yuseong Middle School, as you will eventually see when I post something about them on here. The Sports Kids (as I now call them) get up before 6:00 am so they can practice sports before classes start. They are sometimes so tired that they sleep during my class. I can tolerate sleeping much more easily than I can tolerate someone being loud and preventing another student from learning.

At this school I try to compel the Sports Kids to want to be awake during my class. I can attempt to force them to pay attention through yelling or shaking them into consciousness but it is so much easier to just make a fun lesson where kids can be kids and they can express themselves and hopefully speak some English and learn something new too. Sometimes I will play Jeopardy with them, sometimes it is Scattegories or Pictionary. No matter what, they are divided into teams and they get ultra-competitive.

I have students who run track or do field events, wrestle, do Taekwon do, judo, weightlift, box, swim and do gymnastics. The gymnasts are especially adorable since they are incredibly tiny and despite being confident doing flips on the balance beam are terrified to speak in more than a whisper during class. They will, however, repeatedly punch the massive wrestlers who clearly weigh 3 times as much as the gymnasts squarely in the chest, just so they can borrow a pencil.

I have heard stories of nuns in the US using a ruler to discipline students by "rapping their knuckles". In Korea, no such improvisation is necessary. Next to the stickers, folders and other teacher supplies you can by a teaching stick. This is a real thing. Notice the comfort grip and hole for hanging when not in use. I know what you must be thinking:"How big is this?" Scroll down.

This is one of my coteachers. She is very sweet and would not allow me to photograph her using the stick on an actual student. She was quite candid in other pictures, though.

Notice the sheer terror in this students eyes. Notice that she is holding the stick upside down. I have never seen a student actually get hit with one of these sticks. They are constructed so that they are incredibly loud when hit on a desk. Its bark is far worse than its bite.

I decided to make a short video of some of the kids talking during the lesson. I do a warm-up exercise with them where I ask them their name, sport and plans for the weekend. Some of the students do really well...and some are still working on it. Due to technical limitations, my voice is really loud and the students are quiet. So let's just call this a rough draft and I will post a more polished version in the future of students doing something more impressive and/or hilarious.

Oh, and if sounds like I am shouting at the students, I sort of am. My "teacher voice" has to be loud enough to be heard over the rest of the loud, active classroom. (Also I am holding the camera too close to myself.)

Mr. Hong gets hitched

A rite of passage that seems to be emerging among westerners in Korea is going to a Korean wedding. Luckily for me, I have become fast friends with Hong Woon-Ki. He is a teacher at my school and started here at the same time. He has helped me navigate daily life here and we hang out after school as well. We are close to the same age, so we are spared enduring the culturally mandated respect protocols practiced by people of disparate ages. (Also, since we are friends I can and do call him by his given name, Woon-ki, but for this story I will refer to him as Mr. Hong mostly for comic effect).

Sunday, April 18 was Mr. Hong's wedding...something that struck me as unusual right away. I was picked up by another teacher, Son-oh at 9:50 that morning and we met at the World Cup Stadium where I had witnessed the normally abysmal Daejeon soccer team defeat Chunnam the day before. We were all meeting at the stadium to get on a bus that Mr. Hong had rented for us to take the the wedding. It was an hour ride to get to the wedding and due to an almost complete lack of parking the bus turned out to be a necessity.

Once we arrived at the wedding hall, I began to see the differences. I figured that people are people and certain things will transcend cultures: like eating 3 times a day, driving on roads and getting married. It turns out that marriage here is similar but not the same. I think I can sum up the differences in one word: efficiency.

As we entered the wedding hall, we passed the first wedding group that was getting married at the scheduled time staggered 30 minutes from Mr. Hong's wedding. The group of teachers I arrived with met near Mr. Hong and we greeting him. There was no gift registry, so we wrote our names and deposited cash into envelopes provided to us by the wedding hall. Our name and monetary expression of our fondness for Mr. Hong were recorded in a ledger after we turned in our cash-stuffed envelopes.

We met Mr. Hong standing outside the room where he would be married. He stood with his mother and soon-to-be-in-laws. He shook our hands, said a brief hello and we caught a glimpse of the bride in a salon/display room where she was sitting for all to see before the wedding. There isn't a tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding here, but Koreans go a step further and don't live together until they are married, so I can definitely give them a pass on seeing the bride a few minutes before the nuptials.

We took our spots near the back of the filled room and stood by the wall. Mr. Hong entered and stood at the alter. His bride was escorted by her father who then sat down. So far it was similar to an American ceremony--except that there was no wedding party. The two of them stood alone at the alter. The officiant (the principal from the bride's school) married the couple and every few minutes Mr. Hong would bark out responses to the principal's questions. This was apparently the correct way to conduct himself despite several people chuckling after hearing him yell.

The couple bowed to both the bride's parents and Mr. Hong's mother. Then Mr. Hong's friend stood up, took a microphone and serenaded the happy couple, nore-bang (karaoke if you must) style. Not to be outdone by his friend Mr. Hong took the microphone and sang another song himself. It went far beyond the "I am singing to be funny" and moved into the "I am singing this to be sincere" realm. They kissed and were officially married. The couple walked down the isle as husband and wife and the ceremony was over. Total time: about 25 minutes. I didn't realize it at the time, but that would be the last I would see of Mr. Hong.

We then walked to the reception area where there was a buffet set up full of lots of tasty Korean foods. The folks from the wedding that happened before Mr. Hong's were eating already and we got in line and got some food. The bride and groom didn't make and appearance as this is the tradition. The teachers ate together and met at the bus for our ride home. Total time, including the 2 hours of bus ride: about 3.5 hours. This was fast, to the point and absent of any unnecessary pageantry. I was a little sad that we left without seeing the newly married couple especially since I haven't met Mr. Hong's wife. I also wanted to say goodbye before they left for a honeymoon in Phuket. (Luckily Mr. Hong called me this morning before his flight left.)

We arrived back at our cars and that was it. It was fast, efficient and to the point. I can only imagine how much money was saved by not doing the wedding Western-style. Some things I found to be improvements over the weddings I am used to, but I also wish that some things were different. It was a great experience and I really enjoyed myself.

Hong Woon-Ki

Mr. Hong proving his worth as a man by singing. He passed the test and was allowed to marry.

This is the suit that I just won't shut up about. Next to me and my suit is Son-oh, a teacher at my school.

The building in the background the the wedding hall. Like all things Korean, it is efficient.

Some of the teachers at my school. The guy in the middle that everyone is scared of is my principal, the woman in purple is the vice principal. I am the white guy.

Some students stowed away on the wedding bus. Look how well behaved they are. Every single teacher there is wishing they had their "discipline stick" right then.

Here is a video of Mr. Hong singing at his wedding. Forget what you think you know about Koreans being somber people. They like to party. Sort of.

Here is a quick post-wedding recap:

Some pictures from around my house

After a week of staying in and laying low, I am just about back to my normal self. I found that sitting in the hot (170 degrees) oven rooms at the jimjilbang is just about the best for chest congestion and resting at home is just the hardest thing to do when there is so much out there to do.

Also, happy birthday Mom!

Old folks playing in the public croquet courts.

Self-serve squid at the grocery.

Ancient Korean Medicine

I woke up Sunday morning with a bit of a sore throat. It wasn't enough to keep me from going running on Sunday but it was enough for me to go to the jimjilbang to try and relax/recoup Sunday night. Work on Monday was hard. My sore throat had turned into a full blown head cold and I was up all night coughing. When I made it to my desk at Yuseong Middle school I was in rough shape. The other teachers offered to take me to the hospital and if I didn't need to go to the bank across town to complete a wire transfer I would have taken them up on the offer. I didn't realize before how much energy I put into teaching a lesson each day until I was faced with the prospect of having none.

Monday's classes finished and I slouched home with most of my voice gone and a parched throat. I hung out at home, resting but knowing that I needed medicine. I met up with friends Jenny and Anthony and by the time they found me wandering in the street in front of their restaurant I was already in a feverish sweat. The two mercifully postponed their plans for dessert to help me find a pharmacy. Jenny is a fluent Korean speaker who has helped me immensely in the past and that night was no different. Even if I hadn't been in the middle of total brain-meltdown hallucinations at that point and I would have been able to read the Korean signs to find a pharmacy, I don't know how I would have communicated to the pharmacist. He probably would have assumed I had ebola and euthanized me on the spot. Jenny got the medicine and correct dosages. The total for 3 days worth of blister packed capsules, similar to what I would have bought in the US: Just under $4.

The meds helped and I was able to decongest my sinuses and sleep without fits of coughing waking me up. When I woke up I felt refreshed and ready to go. By the time I got to school it was apparent that despite my wanting to feel better I was not over the sickness. I teach 5 classes on Tuesdays and after the third one my voice was all but gone. The kimchi I piled on my plate at lunch helped but it was just a temporary fix. By 6th period I was reduced to American eye candy as my coteacher dutifully and comically taught my lesson on American holidays from memory after watching it once that morning. To her credit, she did amazingly well. I wonder what will happen if these kids ever go to the US and expect to see giant weather-controlling beavers on Groundhog Day and look forward to the Green Worshipping day otherwise known as St. Patrick's.

So the day fizzled to a close and I felt pretty worthless. My job is to speak to Korean students with my beautiful, non-regional diction. I dazzle them with my flawless pronunciation of "z" "x" and "th" sounds and never confuse "r" for "l" or "v" for "b". Today I just whispered and smiled, hoping that all those shrieks of "I love you" from the back of my classes were sincere and they would give me a pass for the day.

When I got to the teachers' office at the end of the day, I was met by Hong Woon-ki, my closest friend at the school. He told me that he was taking me to the hospital and he sounded authoritatively non-negotiable. At 4:00 on the dot we walked to his car and took off for what I assumed would be the shiniest rooms with lights and sensors and equipment that the US will get in a few years. If Korean dance clubs were any indication of the technology that this country wielded, I was in for a futuristic surprise. Clearly the guys who design dance clubs don't design hospitals.

As we drove to the hospital, I kept an eye out for the familiar green cross indicative to Korean health facilities ranging from laser hair removal to birthing centers. They place we went was on the second floor of an office building, and in the US would be referred to simply as a "clinic." I didn't think it was a big deal, I trusted Woon-ki. He is a sharp dresser, has impeccable table manners, and I am pretty sure he is trying to set me up with his future sister-in-law, so he is motivated to keep me alive. We got to the clinic and I showed my ID card. (Note: calling this a card is a mere formality. It is more like a pamphlet. I almost threw it away the day I got it). We had a seat on the plush couch and sipped some green tea as we waited for the doctor.

He called me into his room and Woon-ki joined me to act as a translator. Much of my feeling of personal space and privacy have been stripped away since I moved here through the natural workings of socitey whether it be people asking questions, walking around naked at the jimjilbang, or my previous crowded medical testing when I arrived. The doctor asked about pain then felt my right wrist. Then he felt my left wrist. He led me to the jimjil, a relaxation room where I laid down on a table with hot compresses under my back, a hot stone on my chest and a heat lamp on me. Woon-ki was a curtain away next door getting treatment for back pain that the Advil I smuggled into Korea and gave to him didn't seem to alleviate. The doctor went from patient to patient (me to Woon-ki and back) and started feeling my arms. He asked if I was OK with needles. I thought he was going to give me a shot. Instead, he started with the acupuncture. To his credit, it worked. Well something worked. I ended up falling asleep with the needle in my arm and my fits of coughing had subsided. Perhaps I have a strong predisposition for the placebo effect? An hour later I woke up and walked to the front to leave. My healing session was over.

The doctor got my hopes up when he asked if I was able to "drink coffee". Coffee! I drink coffee all day! I bought a coffee maker for my office and one for my house! I had been right all along! The cure was coffee!!!

If he had been one of my students, he would have learned much better vocabulary and instead of saying "coffee" he would have said "the bitterest brown liquid you can imagine mixed with chunks of dried roots that in ancient times were used to kill unfaithful spouses." But he just called it coffee. So at the front desk as I am paying for all of this, including a 3 day supply of bitter-brown-liquid Korean traditional medicine, the paper cup is handed to me with said brown meds and I am told to drink up. I was dressed, ready to walk out the door and I was instructed to drink this, in front of the receptionist. It turns out the doctor didn't think that I would drink it since it was so disgusting but he didn't want to say anything until I had tried it.

I finished it and vomiting crossed my mind, but I thought that it would reflect poorly on Woon-ki, so I kept it down until the feeling passed. I now have enough of this liquid to last me for one dose after eating until Thursday. I plan on taking all of them. As skeptical and cynical as I am, I think that medicine in the US is good but not perfect. I will give it a shot. It's not like this doctor just made the cure up, right? Maybe this will work. I am already feeling a little better and I have another dose to take in just over an hour.

I need to get better quickly...I have a million things I want to do.

These are the meds. They could easily be confused for garden fertilizer based on the appearance and taste.

Heading out of the city

I had big plans for this weekend. Friday night was my last night of mandatory teacher training so all of the teachers were going to meet out and party to celebrate class being over. A guilty little secret of mine is that I didn't hate the class like most people did and I actually enjoyed seeing the other people's teaching styles and getting tips from them. At the very least it was a good excuse to see everyone again and it forced me to learn how to use the buses.

I went out with a sizable group on Friday night and we made it to the designated meeting place. Once you reach a critical mass of more than 8 people decision making becomes painful, the group meanders and most of the time is spent aimlessly walking around. I wasn't keen to be in a large group that night so I split off from the group with 2 friends. My decision to split off from the large group with Trev and Joanne was two-fold. First I wanted a relaxed time to chat with people in a quiet setting. I didn't have anything against anyone else, I was just craving some chill time. The second reason is that I had a 7am rendezvous with my friend Dale the next day and past experience has shown the power of just one beer to lead to 18 more and inhibit any grand climbing plans.

Trev, Joanne and I skipped the group dinner and opted for a coffee shop instead. After some awesome shakes and complimentary tea we left to meet up with the rest of the gang. I was vacillating between having a beer with the already inebriated fun bunch, but I somehow chose to abstain. It wasn't easy leaving, but visions of mountain hiking were already dancing in my head so it made my leaving a little less hard to take.

I woke up the next morning at 6am and got ready. I phoned Dale and after an arduous bus ride he made it to my side of town. We walked towards what I thought was the closest bus stop we were passed by the bus we wanted and learned that the next stop wasn't that close to us after all and only comes every 20 minutes. By the time we got to the stop and the bus came we were creeping towards 8am. Thankfully, we made it to the base of the mountain just before 8:30.

One of the many differences that I have noticed between the US and Korea is the attire that people don while pursuing outdoor activities. In Wisconsin in the summer it isn't unusual to see families out hiking with the dad wearing cut off jean shorts, a proud beer belly that might (or might not) be covered by a t-shirt. Shoes are the same as what they wear to mow the lawn in. The mom will wear the female equivalent of dad's clothes and the kids will wear anything from sandals to sneakers that light up when they walk. Now before all you hard core outdoor-enthusiast Wisconsinites take up arms against me, I am not trying to paint you (us, really as I will always identify myself as being from WI, no matter where I am living) with the same brush as the hillbilly hikers we see at Devil's Lake on the weekends. I am merely trying to illustrate a difference between Korea and America and yes, perhaps I am taking too many liberties with my generalizations. That is how this one way conduit of information works though.

In Korea, people look like they are setting off on a major trek when they go hiking. They wear the newest pants made out of space-age fabrics. Jackets are made from brightly colored gore-tex and packed with gadgets and gizmos. They have GPS units, radios and backpacks full of other hardly necessary cargo. And they all have trekking poles. Most people have at least one, but some will use two. I have no idea what the kids wear because kids don't hike. I assume it is because they are too busy studying and when they are done they go to the PC rooms to play computer games.

Dale and I chose clothes and gear that were a mix of the Korean techy style and the unashamed midwestern utilitarian-functional variety.

Maybe this is a good time to mention that Dale is from South Africa and from what I have gathered, is a huge fan of the outdoors and adventure. It seemed like he was jonsing for some activity and this was just what he needed.

We set off on a path, cruising past a group of geared up men and moving pretty fast on a trail through a valley that followed a crystal clear stream. We made it to a fork and chose what we thought would be the better of two routes. Within one minute we were off trail and exploring the rock outcroppings that were all around us. The higher we hiked, the more exposed rock we found. It ended up being a sharp, slightly overhanging granite that trashed our fingers within a few moves. Neither of us had brought proper climbing shoes but we still played around on the grippy rocks, cursing our soft, callus-free hands as we drew blood from the sharp rock.

From what I have gathered, this is all virgin rock, aka rock that no one has climbed on and no routes have been established there. It wasn't just a slab or two with half a dozen routes. This seemed like it had potential for somewhere close to a hundred new routes. To quote an old climbing friend, Eric Bernard, "The best climbing has yet to be discovered..." I couldn't agree more.

We finally made it to the ridge and sat on a boulder to enjoy the view and have some food and water. We took the path down as more people started coming up. I saw teched out hikers who seemed to be around 40-55 years old. As we descended more, we came across knotted ropes tied to bolts in the rock. This was meant to assist the hikers as they ascended the steep, featureless rock. I was almost in shock. In the states this would never fly: Steps would be cut, warning signs would go up and fences would surround the area. Instead, people just climbed up and didn't think much of it.

Dale and I made it down as large groups of people started coming up. We checked out the shops at the base of the mountain and noticed that there are not one, but 2 spas there as well as a handful of restaurants. Next time we go, I want to have another early morning hike followed by lunch and spa time. The cost shouldn't exceed $15 for the day.

That afternoon I raced to the KTX train station so I could meet my friends who had already left for Daegu. I found that the afternoon's tickets had been sold out and I couldn't go until 8pm. I decided to stay in town and meet up with friends who stayed behind instead.

We met at our friend Euclide's place on the 17th floor of a downtown building. I subjected everyone to the music on my ipod and we had a little party. Then we left for what was supposed to be "the best club" in town. As far as I can tell, it was. As one of 5 westerners there, I was treated like a celebrity. It was a great time, followed by eating tasty street food afterwards.

I woke up on Sunday morning to amazing weather and went for a wonderful 8 mile run. It turns out that I am surrounded by farms once you go about a mile from my house. As strange as it may sound, the area around my house reminds me of when I lived in New Mexico more than anything else. I was eyed by several stray dogs as I ran and saw several piles of burning refuse on the side of the road. The roads themselves where in various states of disrepair and the houses seem to have been built without a plan in mind for cars to travel to or from them.

I felt a little sickness coming on so I met my friend Joe (The Wildcard) out for some time at the jimjilbang. It was packed with people and felt like a real community gathering place.

I had plans for the weekend and nearly none of them happened yet I ended up having one of the best, most fulfilling weekends I can remember. Now that spring is here, I am even more excited than ever to see what Korea has in store.

So much rock!

Old dude, teched out and hiking.

Oh yeah, we ran across these guys on our way down...