Thursday, May 13, 2010
Laziness or Business?
The first few weeks in Korea, I must've looked like quite the tourist. I'd always have a pen and paper in my purse to randomly write down the million strange things I'd see every minute. It's finally gotten to the point where the list is running onto multiple pages, so I think it's about time I write something. It's strange. Some of these things which were once so crazy and off the wall to me, are now just part of my everyday norm. For example, every car has some sort of creative way to display their phone number. This is so that any car can park anywhere. There appears to be no rules. Most people leave their car in neutral so it can be pushed out of the way in case of emergency. Otherwise, one just calls the number on their dash and asks them to move their car so they can get out. Everyone here drives like a lunatic, and yet, they park like champions. It may seem strange and with absolutely no order whatsoever, but I swear they could parallel park better than anyone.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Daegu Part II
In Korea, once night falls, music fills the streets. This is not a metaphor. All the clubs and bars have speakers outside that lure you in. It reminds me of Night at the Roxbury how the outside of the club looks like the inside because walking down the street dancing isn’t much different since you can walk down the street drinking as well. Think VegasX10. Anyway, any given Friday in Daegu makes Hot Mess look like a preschool gathering. To put it mildly, they know how to party in Korea. The bars don’t close until about 7 AM and most of the clubs have 2+ floors and flat screen TV’s everywhere. Our night started on the train with a few bottles of soju. (For further reference, my group consists of Tristan from Minnesota, Jesse from Alaska, Me from Oregon, and a native Korean named Yeong Hee aka Liz) Our next stop was Julliard which is a show bar filled with blacklights where nearly every drink required some sort of fire stick. There was what I like to call a youtube DJ which seems to be pretty popular here. A guy searches youtube throughout the night finding different videos to play on the flat screens and projectors that covered the walls. American Top40 is insanely popular here and you haven’t heard anything until you’ve heard a room full of Koreans who don’t speak English screaming ‘shut up and let me go’ by the Ting Tings.
We didn’t stay at Julliard long because Club Frog was just a few streets away. At first we were scared they wouldn’t let us in as I didn’t have my passport with me. No, I’m not forgetful, it’s just that my passport is at the embassy being registered for my alien registration card. I wont get it back for a week. But America is seen as pretty high and mighty here so I was able to get in with just my Oregon Driver’s License. And let me just say, American clubs, pay attention and take note on what Korea offers. Club Frog had four floors, plus a lounge roof. The first floor had access one of the dance floors and walls covered with lockers where you could put your purse and jacket while you danced. The locker keys were put on necklaces that you could wear without losing the whole night. The second floor had a bar and another dance floor with little side nook type tables for privacy. The third floor was yet another floor with another bar, a couple of big booth tables for larger parties and access to all dance floors. The dance floors aren’t entire floors here, but rather a kind of backward tiered wedding cake style. The first floor has the largest circular dancing area, second floor is smaller and frames the first floor and the third floor follows the trend. The fourth floor of Club Frog was the womens lounge which was literally a giant women’s restroom filled with lockers, vanities, and couches. Then there was the roof which reminded me of the porch at Rotture where people went for fresh air. Smoking is allowed anywhere here so sometimes I needed to go to the roof just to breath.
Every floor had security guards who I was so kindly introduced to when one of them tried to karate chop my arm. Taking pictures in this club is strictly forbidden as it’s known as a hangout for Korean celebrities. The music was apparently too loud for the guy to tell me no pictures so he hit me instead. Not to say that he hit me hard, but the surprise of a random guy in a suit hitting me nearly made me cry. Don’t worry though, I thought of the suited men as a challenge and eventually outsmarted them to get a few pictures. Jerks. Then to top it off, Frogs had a lot of foreigners and military men and it appeared I couldn’t walk two feet without being hit on. Korean women are beautiful but they are so thin that they don’t have an ass. Military men apparently like girls with an ass. Needless to say, I was a hot commodity (as Tristan put it) and saying I had a boyfriend meant nothing. Unless they see a ring on your finger, you are free game. I will be buying a fake wedding ring before next weekend.
Next was Club G2 which you actually can’t get into unless you’re with a Korean. Fortunately Yeong Hee aka Liz, was with us so we were able to get in with no problem. This club is apparently the number one spot in Daegu but the layout was so strange that we spent most of our time being confused. You walk in to a high class looking room with a bar and a stage where something is happening but it’s all in Korean so I really have no idea what’s going on. The music isn’t too loud and everyone keeps going in and out of a side door which I assume to be a bathroom. Wrong. The side door leads down stairs covered in graffiti to the top part of the dancing floor. Hate to make the comparison, but it’s kind of like barracuda how the floor frames the dance floor below. The dance floor below was beyond packed and the thought of going down there made me slightly nauseous. (also kind of like barracuda…weird) Fortunately we didn’t stay at this club for long. I think Jesse was harassed in the mens bathroom and we took that as our cue to leave.
No one really gave me much of an explanation on Korea before we left Gumi and went to Daegu. The trains stop running for a few hours from about 2 AM-6 AM. This means, you have to party until the bar closes in order to get home or you have to stay in Daegu. I didn’t bring clothes or makeup or anything with me so the thought of staying in a hotel was less than appealing. By this time it’s 4 AM, our entire group is beyond intoxicated and I’m beyond tired. It’s of course at this time when I realize I have to either live it up for 2 more hours and then make the journey home by myself or stay in a hotel with the rest of them. I, being difficult, opted to go home. We left the bar around 5 AM to walk back to the station to get me on a 5:50 train. Once at the train station, I realized I had no idea how to get home. I would have to take the train and figure out my stop without an English translation, then take a taxi, then walk a mile since I have to use landmarks for taxis and can’t give directions to my apartment. I was drunk. I was tired. And I was horrified to leave my group. For all I know, I could get confused and wake up in Seoul.
So I followed the group to a love motel right outside of the station. When Tristan first told me of love motels, I was disgusted. These places are NOT disgusting. They’re AMAZING. For $30,000 KRW= $27 USD, you get a room with a big actually comfortable bed, down comforter, plush pillows, big bathroom, cable TV, and a mini fridge filled with pomegranate juice, milk, etc. If you disregard the fact that they also give you condoms and toothbrushes, they’re really quite nice. There’s no real check out time so you can sleep in until whatever time you prefer. But naturally, I was out of my element and woke up at 11 AM ready for the day. Nothing like a little 3 hour nap to push you through another day in Daegu. Tristan and Liz slept in until two, so Jesse and I started our Daegu adventure. We walked all over the city, ate at Kentucky Fried Chicken (WHERE THEY DON’T HAVE MASHED POTATOES!!), saw Alice in Wonderland in 3D, and had an overall amazing Saturday. Took the train back to Gumi around 7:30 where we went to another bar for drinks and pool. The boys were ready for yet another night. They were going to take another train to Daejon and go watch some live bands and drink themselves stupid again. I couldn’t do it. My mom nickname stood true and I left the group and took a taxi to megaline and walked the additional mile home. I was in bed by 10 PM Saturday night. Didn’t wake up until 10 AM Sunday morning. I have no intentions of leaving my bed today. I don’t care of I need to go grocery shopping, if I really should take a shower, if I have dishes to do, or if I should really clean my apartment. I am NOT leaving my bed today. I had an amazing weekend. I made some friends. I love Korea.
We didn’t stay at Julliard long because Club Frog was just a few streets away. At first we were scared they wouldn’t let us in as I didn’t have my passport with me. No, I’m not forgetful, it’s just that my passport is at the embassy being registered for my alien registration card. I wont get it back for a week. But America is seen as pretty high and mighty here so I was able to get in with just my Oregon Driver’s License. And let me just say, American clubs, pay attention and take note on what Korea offers. Club Frog had four floors, plus a lounge roof. The first floor had access one of the dance floors and walls covered with lockers where you could put your purse and jacket while you danced. The locker keys were put on necklaces that you could wear without losing the whole night. The second floor had a bar and another dance floor with little side nook type tables for privacy. The third floor was yet another floor with another bar, a couple of big booth tables for larger parties and access to all dance floors. The dance floors aren’t entire floors here, but rather a kind of backward tiered wedding cake style. The first floor has the largest circular dancing area, second floor is smaller and frames the first floor and the third floor follows the trend. The fourth floor of Club Frog was the womens lounge which was literally a giant women’s restroom filled with lockers, vanities, and couches. Then there was the roof which reminded me of the porch at Rotture where people went for fresh air. Smoking is allowed anywhere here so sometimes I needed to go to the roof just to breath.
Every floor had security guards who I was so kindly introduced to when one of them tried to karate chop my arm. Taking pictures in this club is strictly forbidden as it’s known as a hangout for Korean celebrities. The music was apparently too loud for the guy to tell me no pictures so he hit me instead. Not to say that he hit me hard, but the surprise of a random guy in a suit hitting me nearly made me cry. Don’t worry though, I thought of the suited men as a challenge and eventually outsmarted them to get a few pictures. Jerks. Then to top it off, Frogs had a lot of foreigners and military men and it appeared I couldn’t walk two feet without being hit on. Korean women are beautiful but they are so thin that they don’t have an ass. Military men apparently like girls with an ass. Needless to say, I was a hot commodity (as Tristan put it) and saying I had a boyfriend meant nothing. Unless they see a ring on your finger, you are free game. I will be buying a fake wedding ring before next weekend.
Next was Club G2 which you actually can’t get into unless you’re with a Korean. Fortunately Yeong Hee aka Liz, was with us so we were able to get in with no problem. This club is apparently the number one spot in Daegu but the layout was so strange that we spent most of our time being confused. You walk in to a high class looking room with a bar and a stage where something is happening but it’s all in Korean so I really have no idea what’s going on. The music isn’t too loud and everyone keeps going in and out of a side door which I assume to be a bathroom. Wrong. The side door leads down stairs covered in graffiti to the top part of the dancing floor. Hate to make the comparison, but it’s kind of like barracuda how the floor frames the dance floor below. The dance floor below was beyond packed and the thought of going down there made me slightly nauseous. (also kind of like barracuda…weird) Fortunately we didn’t stay at this club for long. I think Jesse was harassed in the mens bathroom and we took that as our cue to leave.
No one really gave me much of an explanation on Korea before we left Gumi and went to Daegu. The trains stop running for a few hours from about 2 AM-6 AM. This means, you have to party until the bar closes in order to get home or you have to stay in Daegu. I didn’t bring clothes or makeup or anything with me so the thought of staying in a hotel was less than appealing. By this time it’s 4 AM, our entire group is beyond intoxicated and I’m beyond tired. It’s of course at this time when I realize I have to either live it up for 2 more hours and then make the journey home by myself or stay in a hotel with the rest of them. I, being difficult, opted to go home. We left the bar around 5 AM to walk back to the station to get me on a 5:50 train. Once at the train station, I realized I had no idea how to get home. I would have to take the train and figure out my stop without an English translation, then take a taxi, then walk a mile since I have to use landmarks for taxis and can’t give directions to my apartment. I was drunk. I was tired. And I was horrified to leave my group. For all I know, I could get confused and wake up in Seoul.
So I followed the group to a love motel right outside of the station. When Tristan first told me of love motels, I was disgusted. These places are NOT disgusting. They’re AMAZING. For $30,000 KRW= $27 USD, you get a room with a big actually comfortable bed, down comforter, plush pillows, big bathroom, cable TV, and a mini fridge filled with pomegranate juice, milk, etc. If you disregard the fact that they also give you condoms and toothbrushes, they’re really quite nice. There’s no real check out time so you can sleep in until whatever time you prefer. But naturally, I was out of my element and woke up at 11 AM ready for the day. Nothing like a little 3 hour nap to push you through another day in Daegu. Tristan and Liz slept in until two, so Jesse and I started our Daegu adventure. We walked all over the city, ate at Kentucky Fried Chicken (WHERE THEY DON’T HAVE MASHED POTATOES!!), saw Alice in Wonderland in 3D, and had an overall amazing Saturday. Took the train back to Gumi around 7:30 where we went to another bar for drinks and pool. The boys were ready for yet another night. They were going to take another train to Daejon and go watch some live bands and drink themselves stupid again. I couldn’t do it. My mom nickname stood true and I left the group and took a taxi to megaline and walked the additional mile home. I was in bed by 10 PM Saturday night. Didn’t wake up until 10 AM Sunday morning. I have no intentions of leaving my bed today. I don’t care of I need to go grocery shopping, if I really should take a shower, if I have dishes to do, or if I should really clean my apartment. I am NOT leaving my bed today. I had an amazing weekend. I made some friends. I love Korea.
Daegu Part I
During the week, each weekday seems pretty similar to any other. My split shifts give me breaks all throughout the day (both a good and a bad thing) which allow for mid-day naps, grocery shopping, wandering the city, and preparing for classes. Mondays are my busiest days with the absolute worst schedule (I’m working on having this changed immediately) while Tuesdays I only have 3 classes scattered throughout the day. All of my classes are pretty enjoyable. Bad side: They all work with different text books with students at different levels so I never get to duplicate my class plans. Good side: I love my students. Most of my students are adults of all ages who really want to learn English and are fascinated by anything I tell them about US culture. They are people I would actually be friends with and hangout with outside of the classroom. Bad Side: My elementary students are loud and rambunctious and hate speaking English so they’ll always act like they don’t understand me and yell in Korean. I have my elementary classes on Mondays and Thursdays so if you ever talk to me on those days, I’ll usually be in a bad mood. Good Side: I have every weekend off. Weekends in Korea might be the greatest vacation I’ve ever had.
This weekend Tristan, (the other American teacher at my hogwan) took me to Daegu with his friends. Daegu is about a 20 minute train ride away so it’s the equivalent of taking the max from Gresham to downtown Portland. The train costs about $3,000 KRW =$2.85 USD. There are little karaoke stations, coin operated PC’s, food, and video games on the train. Plus, you can buy a bottle of soju or a couple of beers at the train station and drink on the train as well. You can drink anywhere and everywhere in Korea and when soju costs about $1.50 a bottle, there’s no reason not to. Soju tastes like watered down vodka, but it is just as potent. It takes on the flavor of anything you mix it with or can be drank by itself without the harsh taste of actual vodka. My new drink of choice is soju with cider. Cider is actually pronounced sa-ee-da, but is written as Cider on the label. It is Korea’s version of Sprite and I really don’t taste a difference. Whiskey is somewhat rare in Korea and when I do find it, it’s incredibly expensive. Sorry Maker’s Mark, you and I will have to be separated for awhile.
Anyway, once off the train station, Daegu is immediately western culture friendly. There is McDonalds, Burger King, Starbucks, Bennigans, Outback Steak House, Subway, Korean Olive Garden, etc. So in short, it’s worth it to take the train to Daegu just so that I can eat, which believe me, this weekend I absolutely did eat everything Western I found. Korean Olive Garden is a little different though. The spaghetti is spicy and usually cooked with fish and/or eggplant and the salad is covered with a sweet Kiwi dressing. You have no idea what I’d do for a bottle of Caesar about now. (Hint: You can mail me salad dressing. It doesn’t need refrigeration).
Outside the station in Daegu, everything is a shopping mall. It reminds me of Bridgeport Mall with a swap meet hidden on every side street. You can’t walk five feet without passing at least 3 new places that all look the same. Every store for women looks like a pint sized Forever21 with prices that line up about the same. And as if the shopping at street level, isn’t enough, there’s the underground malls as well. You can’t cross main streets in Korea. There are skybridges and underground ‘subway-esque’ routes to get across streets. All of these underground paths are really underground shopping malls with stores of all kinds. It never seems to stop. Every other store is a women’s shoe store filled to the top with high heels of all styles. Finding flats in a size 250 is rare, but it happens. I will probably return with an entire suitcase filled with shoes. Another filled with cardigans. Another filled with scarves. And another filled with fake Louis Vuitton purses. The fashion here is so far up my alley it’s not even funny. Stripes, vests, cardigans, blazers, and leather jackets is all you see here. This trip to Daegu wasn’t spent shopping though. You only get paid once a month and I haven’t been paid yet, so I’ve been taking adventures with empty pockets. It’s painful, but I’ll survive. Plus I still have a full year of these shopping trips ahead of me. And I haven’t even gone out in Seoul yet!
This weekend Tristan, (the other American teacher at my hogwan) took me to Daegu with his friends. Daegu is about a 20 minute train ride away so it’s the equivalent of taking the max from Gresham to downtown Portland. The train costs about $3,000 KRW =$2.85 USD. There are little karaoke stations, coin operated PC’s, food, and video games on the train. Plus, you can buy a bottle of soju or a couple of beers at the train station and drink on the train as well. You can drink anywhere and everywhere in Korea and when soju costs about $1.50 a bottle, there’s no reason not to. Soju tastes like watered down vodka, but it is just as potent. It takes on the flavor of anything you mix it with or can be drank by itself without the harsh taste of actual vodka. My new drink of choice is soju with cider. Cider is actually pronounced sa-ee-da, but is written as Cider on the label. It is Korea’s version of Sprite and I really don’t taste a difference. Whiskey is somewhat rare in Korea and when I do find it, it’s incredibly expensive. Sorry Maker’s Mark, you and I will have to be separated for awhile.
Anyway, once off the train station, Daegu is immediately western culture friendly. There is McDonalds, Burger King, Starbucks, Bennigans, Outback Steak House, Subway, Korean Olive Garden, etc. So in short, it’s worth it to take the train to Daegu just so that I can eat, which believe me, this weekend I absolutely did eat everything Western I found. Korean Olive Garden is a little different though. The spaghetti is spicy and usually cooked with fish and/or eggplant and the salad is covered with a sweet Kiwi dressing. You have no idea what I’d do for a bottle of Caesar about now. (Hint: You can mail me salad dressing. It doesn’t need refrigeration).
Outside the station in Daegu, everything is a shopping mall. It reminds me of Bridgeport Mall with a swap meet hidden on every side street. You can’t walk five feet without passing at least 3 new places that all look the same. Every store for women looks like a pint sized Forever21 with prices that line up about the same. And as if the shopping at street level, isn’t enough, there’s the underground malls as well. You can’t cross main streets in Korea. There are skybridges and underground ‘subway-esque’ routes to get across streets. All of these underground paths are really underground shopping malls with stores of all kinds. It never seems to stop. Every other store is a women’s shoe store filled to the top with high heels of all styles. Finding flats in a size 250 is rare, but it happens. I will probably return with an entire suitcase filled with shoes. Another filled with cardigans. Another filled with scarves. And another filled with fake Louis Vuitton purses. The fashion here is so far up my alley it’s not even funny. Stripes, vests, cardigans, blazers, and leather jackets is all you see here. This trip to Daegu wasn’t spent shopping though. You only get paid once a month and I haven’t been paid yet, so I’ve been taking adventures with empty pockets. It’s painful, but I’ll survive. Plus I still have a full year of these shopping trips ahead of me. And I haven’t even gone out in Seoul yet!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Asian Drivers...It's all true.
It’s strange to describe a place that could only have ever existed in my imagination. I wouldn’t say that I have led an exceptionally sheltered life, but I will say that I am very naïve. I usually only studied what was required in classes and rarely stepped off my routine path of life. Spending everyday in a rhythmic schedule kept me stable. My jobs, family, friends…everything. It all had its place. Everything is different here and not just mildly different, but remarkably different. Let me make it clear first off, that different is not necessarily a bad thing, just a…different thing.
1. Driving- for the love of gawd, driving here is a death wish. We’re not talking about in Portland where blinkers are slightly optional. Here, Red lights are optional. Literally. Stop signs don’t seem to exist and speed limits are just suggested. I will never jaywalk in Korea unless I am making a suicide attempt. Even when the ‘green man’ pops up telling me to walk, one must be cautious. Cars will go to take a right turn without looking or stopping. If on a side street, find some form of curb or something to walk on. Cars will go just as fast in an alley as they would on free road. Think high speed police chase. Never do as I did on my first day and walk in the middle of an alley with headphones. Also, u-turns are permitted just about anywhere and in some cases, actually are the flow of traffic and the only way to get from one place to another. In short, being in a car in Korea is horrifying. Walking near a car here is horrifying and the thought of driving here would give me nightmares for at least a year. Jeff- your assumptions of Asian drivers hold true here. Not completely confirmed, but I’m investigating.
2. Samsung- They make everything here. My television. My washing machine. My phone. The car that parks out front of my apartment. SM5- Samsung Motors 5. Which by the way, all the cars here are Kia, Daewoo, Samsung, and Hyndai. The cars that get all ‘suped’ up actually put chevrolet logos on them to make them appear more western. Slightly hilarious and ridiculous. It’s like seeing a miata with a giant chrevolet sign. It’s obvious it doesn’t fit and makes the whole scene look hilarious. (Did I forget to mention some of these Chevrolet types put curtains on their windows? Like old school rapist vans but on a new sedan. It’s hilarious)
3. To end my ranting about cars in Korea, I’ll say that nearly every car has a television. We’re not just talking a mild distraction talking on the phone while in the car. We’re talking watching the news while texting on your cell phone while being a TAXI DRIVER! Yes, I’m paying this man to watch his soaps, text his wife, and somehow get me to point B in one piece. When I was on the bus from Seoul to Gumi, it wasn’t the glare of headlights that kept waking me up, it was every passing car and their damned televisions on their dash. Televisions in cars are apparently illegal here, but I don’t think I’ve seen a car without them. You push a button on the screen and it turns to a GPS system, another button and it’s back to watching the Simpsons in high definition. I didn’t even have cable in the states and here they even have it in their cars. Needless to say, I never miss the CSI shows I’ve begun to like. It’s the only American show they show here….NCIS, Bones, The Mentalist, etc. I will come out of Korea as a super sleuth for sure.
Oh and in case it isn’t completely apparent… I love it here. I’m really enjoying the change of pace my life has taken. Everyday there’s something new, something I’ve never seen before. I’m sure it’ll grow old quick and the reminder of how much I miss my friends and family will sink in, but for now, I’m pretty content. In 10 minutes I have my final class of the day, then a nap, then read another chapter in my book, then off to Daegu for a night out with a few foreigners and some locals. The bars don’t close until 6 AM and there’s always a cheap love motel to fall asleep at on any corner. It’s not just a walk of shame here, it’s a bus ride, a taxi ride, and then a walk. We’ll see if it’s worth it.
1. Driving- for the love of gawd, driving here is a death wish. We’re not talking about in Portland where blinkers are slightly optional. Here, Red lights are optional. Literally. Stop signs don’t seem to exist and speed limits are just suggested. I will never jaywalk in Korea unless I am making a suicide attempt. Even when the ‘green man’ pops up telling me to walk, one must be cautious. Cars will go to take a right turn without looking or stopping. If on a side street, find some form of curb or something to walk on. Cars will go just as fast in an alley as they would on free road. Think high speed police chase. Never do as I did on my first day and walk in the middle of an alley with headphones. Also, u-turns are permitted just about anywhere and in some cases, actually are the flow of traffic and the only way to get from one place to another. In short, being in a car in Korea is horrifying. Walking near a car here is horrifying and the thought of driving here would give me nightmares for at least a year. Jeff- your assumptions of Asian drivers hold true here. Not completely confirmed, but I’m investigating.
2. Samsung- They make everything here. My television. My washing machine. My phone. The car that parks out front of my apartment. SM5- Samsung Motors 5. Which by the way, all the cars here are Kia, Daewoo, Samsung, and Hyndai. The cars that get all ‘suped’ up actually put chevrolet logos on them to make them appear more western. Slightly hilarious and ridiculous. It’s like seeing a miata with a giant chrevolet sign. It’s obvious it doesn’t fit and makes the whole scene look hilarious. (Did I forget to mention some of these Chevrolet types put curtains on their windows? Like old school rapist vans but on a new sedan. It’s hilarious)
3. To end my ranting about cars in Korea, I’ll say that nearly every car has a television. We’re not just talking a mild distraction talking on the phone while in the car. We’re talking watching the news while texting on your cell phone while being a TAXI DRIVER! Yes, I’m paying this man to watch his soaps, text his wife, and somehow get me to point B in one piece. When I was on the bus from Seoul to Gumi, it wasn’t the glare of headlights that kept waking me up, it was every passing car and their damned televisions on their dash. Televisions in cars are apparently illegal here, but I don’t think I’ve seen a car without them. You push a button on the screen and it turns to a GPS system, another button and it’s back to watching the Simpsons in high definition. I didn’t even have cable in the states and here they even have it in their cars. Needless to say, I never miss the CSI shows I’ve begun to like. It’s the only American show they show here….NCIS, Bones, The Mentalist, etc. I will come out of Korea as a super sleuth for sure.
Oh and in case it isn’t completely apparent… I love it here. I’m really enjoying the change of pace my life has taken. Everyday there’s something new, something I’ve never seen before. I’m sure it’ll grow old quick and the reminder of how much I miss my friends and family will sink in, but for now, I’m pretty content. In 10 minutes I have my final class of the day, then a nap, then read another chapter in my book, then off to Daegu for a night out with a few foreigners and some locals. The bars don’t close until 6 AM and there’s always a cheap love motel to fall asleep at on any corner. It’s not just a walk of shame here, it’s a bus ride, a taxi ride, and then a walk. We’ll see if it’s worth it.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
And So It Continues...
It sounds ironic to say, but the concept of communication here may be the death of me. My not having a Korean cell phone is about as convenient as a kidney stone. The directors never showed up on Monday. Not to say that I had anything better to do as it was raining and I was exhausted, but I waited for them all day. It was the Korean Independence Day so I guess I could’ve gone out and seen how it was all celebrated, or if it was even a big deal; but my stress, disappointment, confusion, and lack of sleep kept me in my apartment. I tried to make it as ‘homey’ as I could. Moved around the scarce furniture and used my new bottle of windex to completely wipe down the place as I assume it had never been cleaned.
I began to hang up some of the clothes with the hangers I had gotten and could only think of how much of a fit my mother would throw if she could see me. The selection of hangers around this town are slim pickins. People that know me know that I’m incredibly neurotic and like my hangers to match whatever they’re hanging all the while being in rainbow order from white to black. The hangers I found are all green and peach and very thick plastic with plastic frills. So, that’s a no thank you. I’d rather fold them. Then I found a convenience store with a different cheaper option. Mom, please sit down… but I’m using paint speckled colored WIRE hangers. And I like them. Ha. To some this may mean nothing, but to mommy dearest…she understands.
But yes, aside from a productive hour or so, consider Monday a lost day for me. I decided that Tuesday, my first day of class should signify a new life. Jane had mentioned a few days earlier that I should come into work around 8 AM. So I woke up at 5:30, went for a jog in my new surroundings, took a shower, ate breakfast, made my bed, swept the floor, and headed off to class. I wasn’t met with the expected smiles and hellos I was hoping for. Apparently I was scheduled for a 7:10 AM class, but no one had the chance to tell me. Talk about a new introduction to isolation. Occupants: 1. They didn’t seem mad as they told me to prepare for my next class that starts at 8:40. Prepare? How? What book are we using? Can I have a copy? How many students do I have? What page are they on? No one had the answers to tell me. Needless to say, it was a huge relief to find that my 8:40 class consists of a few businessmen who are usually at important meetings and rarely show up. I spent this hour on facebook instead so as not to leave the school and be available for any questions. Sunny(receptionist, manager, fellow teacher) said to be back around 3 as I might have a company call.
Company call translates to James showing up pounding on my apartment door at 2 PM waking me up (as he usually does) to take me to LG electronics to meet the vice president of the company who I’m supposed to start giving private lessons. Thank goodness I have started sleeping in my clothes, so I grabbed some shoes and was on my way. James treated me to some of his potato and seaweed sandwich on white bread which was surprisingly, not half bad. I got there and had to go through a series of security guidelines and had to hand over my passport and iPod while my purse was x-rayed before I could enter. Then I had to sign some paperwork and agree that I could only go in strict designated areas. So, in short, you will not hear any more of this particular teaching experience. Yes, I know the curiousity must be killing you, but you’ll survive.
(The rest of this blog is going to be quick as I just typed it all and then my computer somehow didn’t save it.)
My next class involves two girls ages 9 and 11. They read and write English at the same level of American children so teaching them is like teaching any other. Yes, Alice and Lily are my new best friends as they are the two people I understand best so far. Most of my classes have been introduction classes where they want to know my age and where I’m from and if I have a boyfriend and the like. I learned that you’re 2 years older in Korea for some random reason so I’ve been getting a kick out of telling people I’m 27. Oh and for a boyfriend status, I’m basically telling them I’m married. I told one student I was single and things were very awkward. So yeah, sorry Isaak, while I’m here, as far as Korea is concerned, we’re quite the item.
Anyway, I’m not going to talk about teaching classes much unless there is some amusing story such as how they all have English names for me since I can’t pronounce their Korean names. Oh and my middle school class already knows how to say fuck you (to each other, not me). And regardless about what all the books say about how much Korean children want to learn… 15 year old Korean boys do not want to sit in class at night after they already finished 8 hours of regular school. And I don’t blame them.
Until next time…
I began to hang up some of the clothes with the hangers I had gotten and could only think of how much of a fit my mother would throw if she could see me. The selection of hangers around this town are slim pickins. People that know me know that I’m incredibly neurotic and like my hangers to match whatever they’re hanging all the while being in rainbow order from white to black. The hangers I found are all green and peach and very thick plastic with plastic frills. So, that’s a no thank you. I’d rather fold them. Then I found a convenience store with a different cheaper option. Mom, please sit down… but I’m using paint speckled colored WIRE hangers. And I like them. Ha. To some this may mean nothing, but to mommy dearest…she understands.
But yes, aside from a productive hour or so, consider Monday a lost day for me. I decided that Tuesday, my first day of class should signify a new life. Jane had mentioned a few days earlier that I should come into work around 8 AM. So I woke up at 5:30, went for a jog in my new surroundings, took a shower, ate breakfast, made my bed, swept the floor, and headed off to class. I wasn’t met with the expected smiles and hellos I was hoping for. Apparently I was scheduled for a 7:10 AM class, but no one had the chance to tell me. Talk about a new introduction to isolation. Occupants: 1. They didn’t seem mad as they told me to prepare for my next class that starts at 8:40. Prepare? How? What book are we using? Can I have a copy? How many students do I have? What page are they on? No one had the answers to tell me. Needless to say, it was a huge relief to find that my 8:40 class consists of a few businessmen who are usually at important meetings and rarely show up. I spent this hour on facebook instead so as not to leave the school and be available for any questions. Sunny(receptionist, manager, fellow teacher) said to be back around 3 as I might have a company call.
Company call translates to James showing up pounding on my apartment door at 2 PM waking me up (as he usually does) to take me to LG electronics to meet the vice president of the company who I’m supposed to start giving private lessons. Thank goodness I have started sleeping in my clothes, so I grabbed some shoes and was on my way. James treated me to some of his potato and seaweed sandwich on white bread which was surprisingly, not half bad. I got there and had to go through a series of security guidelines and had to hand over my passport and iPod while my purse was x-rayed before I could enter. Then I had to sign some paperwork and agree that I could only go in strict designated areas. So, in short, you will not hear any more of this particular teaching experience. Yes, I know the curiousity must be killing you, but you’ll survive.
(The rest of this blog is going to be quick as I just typed it all and then my computer somehow didn’t save it.)
My next class involves two girls ages 9 and 11. They read and write English at the same level of American children so teaching them is like teaching any other. Yes, Alice and Lily are my new best friends as they are the two people I understand best so far. Most of my classes have been introduction classes where they want to know my age and where I’m from and if I have a boyfriend and the like. I learned that you’re 2 years older in Korea for some random reason so I’ve been getting a kick out of telling people I’m 27. Oh and for a boyfriend status, I’m basically telling them I’m married. I told one student I was single and things were very awkward. So yeah, sorry Isaak, while I’m here, as far as Korea is concerned, we’re quite the item.
Anyway, I’m not going to talk about teaching classes much unless there is some amusing story such as how they all have English names for me since I can’t pronounce their Korean names. Oh and my middle school class already knows how to say fuck you (to each other, not me). And regardless about what all the books say about how much Korean children want to learn… 15 year old Korean boys do not want to sit in class at night after they already finished 8 hours of regular school. And I don’t blame them.
Until next time…
The Beginning Part I
It’s strange to say how I felt the moment I stepped in PDX knowing that it would be my last time being in comfortable surroundings. Every step from here on out is a fresh step on new soil; Even the hour layover in Seattle proved to be confusing as I tried to lug around luggage whose combined weight weighed more than me. Once on the plane, I was actually eager to fall asleep and wake up in Korea. I don’t think I have ever sat in one place for longer than 10 minutes, let alone 10 hours. I was first placed on the far end of the plane in a window seat next to a guy who enjoyed telling me this was his first out of country experience to Bangkok. After 2 minutes had passed, I decided that he must’ve chosen Bangkok for the sole reason of telling people that that’s where he was going. One of those, "Haha, Hey man, did you hear there's a place called Bangkok? Let's go!"
There were three army guys sitting behind us reading Tucker Max’s I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell while making poor humored jokes. I could already tell this was going to be the longest few hours of my life. Usually I'd chime in and act amused while I'm really ridiculing their daft thoughts, but today was not my day. I was absolutely terrified, already homesick, felt feverish, and just wanted to cry in a corner. It’s of no surprise that I jumped at the opportunity to switch seats with one of the army guys’ friends in the front of the plane. Between a petite Chinese woman and a middle-aged ginger, I found my solace of comfort. I gave up my window seat for 12 hours of silence, and let me tell you, I’d do it again. I could kick my Portland friends for staying loyal in their movie nights as the only movies being shown were the three movies I had just watched. The newly formatted ipod by Marc and Natalia and watching the E! True Hollywood Story of Sandra Bullock, twice, were my only awake moments en route to Seoul.
Once off the plane, I quickly found Che, my boss, holding a sign that read De Moss. He seemed to let out a very apparent sigh once he spotted me with all my luggage. His broken English was complimented by his son-in-law who was visiting from Seattle. I tried to be cordial, but I was so out of it and tired, I just wanted to be left alone. I told them I was not hungry, but Che bought me a donut from Dunkin Donuts (to save for later) and a Korean orange juice and we stepped outside. ( The fact that the man bought me a donut without me asking had me liking him already) Within 5 minutes, Che had argued his way into putting me on an already full bus to Gumi. His son-in-law ran behind me and said, “This bus will stop for a 15 minute break. Your stop is the next stop. Someone will meet you there.” So the bus ride is supposed to be three hours long and it’s nearly 2 AM USA time and 8 PM Korean Time and I’m supposed to stay awake until one stop after the 15 minute break stop? Naturally I didn’t think of any of this until Che and his son were gone and I was left fumbling with my seat trying to figure out how to put the feet down. The guy next to me must’ve noticed my troubles because he started to pointlessly adjust his own seat back and forth until I caught on.
The sight leaving Seoul was as if New York, Japan, and Las Vegas had collided into one central city. I was actually thankful that I was being placed in a smaller city as these lights at the moment were quite overbearing. I have no idea how it happened, but I quickly fell asleep, only to wake up right at the 15 minute stop. I nearly had an anxiety attack thinking that I had already missed my stop and here I am with no phone and no Korean money and no way to find my way home. Thank goodness my stop was the next stop and Jane was there waiting. Jane was the school receptionist and quickly had me feeling at ease. Her English wasn’t half bad, although she kept apologizing for it. Most of the car ride was spent in silence except for Jane’s random outbursts of telling me how pretty I am. Here is this beautiful Korean woman dressed in jeans and a leather jacket and she’s complimenting me?! She also made note of showing how most of the cars here are white. I don’t know what it meant, but I naturally thought of Natalia and her hate for color. The view of Gumi at night was fascinating. Lots of stores and high rises and the Samsung building on the right which she showed off with pride. My apartment was further up a broken cement road where garbage lined the streets. (I learned that this is normal and not a bad neighborhood) She helped me with my luggage into my small one room apartment and gasped when I stepped in without taking off my boots. Culture note #1, TAKE OFF SHOES IN HOME. Jane must’ve noticed the exhausted look in my eyes because she brought in some blankets, said James would be here at 11 AM the next day to take me to the market, and left me in my new home.
I’m not sure what to expect of Korean apartments but I kind of like mine. It is very much like a studio at the Sitka, but smaller. You walk in to a small entryway with cupboards and a stove for a kitchen. Big glass doors open up to a single room with a twin bed and a television atop two drawers. Additional sliding glass doors open to a small room with a washing machine and a rack to put your clothes on to dry. The bathroom has a sink and a toilet and a small shelf and a shower head right in the middle of it. Korean culture does not have shower curtains and when you bathe, there is only a drain and everything gets wet. You have to wear shower shoes (thank goodness I brought sandals) as the floor fills up and takes some time to drain. I’m not a big fan of showering here. The bathroom always seems dirty and looks and smells like a wet bathroom. I have to take toilet paper out before I shower and put it back in after the bathroom is dry enough. I really should’ve brought more towels. There is no fan and only a small window you can open which since I’m on the first floor makes for a great view while I shower.
Once I unpacked, the apartment, in its one room wonder, still looked empty. They told me the apartment would be furnished. This of course meant a TV and a bed and a small built in wardrobe to put your clothes. Thank goodness I overpacked and brought sheets and a towel and my curtains. There is a small double drawer side table that the tv sits on, but naturally the drawers don't actually open unless I use brute force and break off the handle (yes it happened twice). Needless to say, I will be leaving several things for the future teachers to enjoy as I need a nice comfortable home to survive.
Anyway, I got up and showered even though I felt like I could sleep for days to be sure I was ready by 11 AM the next morning. I was horrified keeping my phone on since I didn’t know if roaming charges applied, but I needed an alarm. I couldn’t use the internet as I didn’t know the password so I spent half the night awake wondering how long it’d take for my mother to call the embassy before I could check in with her. The apartment had no dishes and no glasses and I didn’t know if the water was safe, so I took some Tylenol with the only liquid I had. Whiskey in my flask. It was 11:30 and no one had come to get me yet so I sat in bed reading a book and left the door unlocked for when he would arrive.
James didn’t arrive until after 1:30. I had fallen asleep and woke to a man standing in front of my bed looking at me puzzled. What a lovely way to meet my school manager. Me, disheveled half asleep and apologetic and James mostly horrified that I fell asleep with the doors unlocked. Yay. Great start for me and Korea. He took me to the market where we realized I did not have any Korean money on me and their ATM machines would not read my card. Superb. I only had the $100 cash I took out while still in Oregon. James walked me around the market and helped me pick out a few items and paid for them. One of the items being toilet paper as there was none in the apartment and it only came in 24 pack rolls. Since that moment wasn’t awkward…AT ALL... I got a few satsumas, some potato chips, some ramen, some Korean orange juice (which I later realized tastes like hell), a loaf of bread, a bottle of water, and plastic mug. I did not want to drink out of my flask anymore thanks. I had made a list that morning of things I would need from the store, but now felt incredibly awkward asking for any of them as I didn’t have won and James would have to pay with the cash he had in hand. Dishes, cleaning supplies, plug in converters, hangers, hammer, nails… We stopped at a little ‘everything’ store and he helped me pick out a few items. He kept pointing to this weird cord which everything about it was lost in translation so I walked forward to the hangers and grabbed the few items I found necessary for the moment.
Then we went to lunch. Horrified that I’d order something I didn’t understand and be forced to eat it all, we went to Imsil Pizza. I figured I could eat anything there. When I started looking at the menu, I began to worry as all I could see were different kinds of fish pizzas and James told me his favorite was the potato pizza. On the last page, I spotted Hawaiian pizza and ordered. Pizza was served with a plate of diced pickles. I got excited and reached for one. It was a sweet relish pickle. Not exactly gross, but definitely not what I was expecting. James looked at me with an awkward eye as he grabbed his fork and reached for a pickle as well. Apparently my eating pickles with my hands was not approved. Meh. The pizza was actually ok even if I had to eat it with a fork and knife. It appears I’ll be able to survive here as long as pizza exists. Once back at my apartment, James tried to start my internet and I realized that’s where the cord played a role. I didn’t have one so no internet for me. I tried to ask him to take me to get the cord, but again, everything was lost in translation. I tried to call my mom then, figuring no fee would be too high on the phone bill for her to know I was not placed in human trafficking, but the phone was shut off. James then told me that Monday was their independence day and everything would be closed but he’d stop by to check in on me. So that means class starts on Tuesday, banks open on Tuesday, and I’m left in an apartment in an unknown world with no connections and no money and little to no food. Ugh. I spent Sunday on a walk around downtown which was amazing. I passed a clothing store that only sold cardigans and vests and stripes!! The weather was perfect. All the people I passed were nice and cheery and I was fascinated as a tourist taking pictures for a few hours. I learned I was very close to the school and my walk there took no time at all. Sunday was a good restful calm day of being content being alone. Yes, I was hungry and I wanted to call my mom, but all in all, I was ok. Now it is Monday. James, Che, and Jane were supposed to meet me. No one is here yet….
There were three army guys sitting behind us reading Tucker Max’s I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell while making poor humored jokes. I could already tell this was going to be the longest few hours of my life. Usually I'd chime in and act amused while I'm really ridiculing their daft thoughts, but today was not my day. I was absolutely terrified, already homesick, felt feverish, and just wanted to cry in a corner. It’s of no surprise that I jumped at the opportunity to switch seats with one of the army guys’ friends in the front of the plane. Between a petite Chinese woman and a middle-aged ginger, I found my solace of comfort. I gave up my window seat for 12 hours of silence, and let me tell you, I’d do it again. I could kick my Portland friends for staying loyal in their movie nights as the only movies being shown were the three movies I had just watched. The newly formatted ipod by Marc and Natalia and watching the E! True Hollywood Story of Sandra Bullock, twice, were my only awake moments en route to Seoul.
Once off the plane, I quickly found Che, my boss, holding a sign that read De Moss. He seemed to let out a very apparent sigh once he spotted me with all my luggage. His broken English was complimented by his son-in-law who was visiting from Seattle. I tried to be cordial, but I was so out of it and tired, I just wanted to be left alone. I told them I was not hungry, but Che bought me a donut from Dunkin Donuts (to save for later) and a Korean orange juice and we stepped outside. ( The fact that the man bought me a donut without me asking had me liking him already) Within 5 minutes, Che had argued his way into putting me on an already full bus to Gumi. His son-in-law ran behind me and said, “This bus will stop for a 15 minute break. Your stop is the next stop. Someone will meet you there.” So the bus ride is supposed to be three hours long and it’s nearly 2 AM USA time and 8 PM Korean Time and I’m supposed to stay awake until one stop after the 15 minute break stop? Naturally I didn’t think of any of this until Che and his son were gone and I was left fumbling with my seat trying to figure out how to put the feet down. The guy next to me must’ve noticed my troubles because he started to pointlessly adjust his own seat back and forth until I caught on.
The sight leaving Seoul was as if New York, Japan, and Las Vegas had collided into one central city. I was actually thankful that I was being placed in a smaller city as these lights at the moment were quite overbearing. I have no idea how it happened, but I quickly fell asleep, only to wake up right at the 15 minute stop. I nearly had an anxiety attack thinking that I had already missed my stop and here I am with no phone and no Korean money and no way to find my way home. Thank goodness my stop was the next stop and Jane was there waiting. Jane was the school receptionist and quickly had me feeling at ease. Her English wasn’t half bad, although she kept apologizing for it. Most of the car ride was spent in silence except for Jane’s random outbursts of telling me how pretty I am. Here is this beautiful Korean woman dressed in jeans and a leather jacket and she’s complimenting me?! She also made note of showing how most of the cars here are white. I don’t know what it meant, but I naturally thought of Natalia and her hate for color. The view of Gumi at night was fascinating. Lots of stores and high rises and the Samsung building on the right which she showed off with pride. My apartment was further up a broken cement road where garbage lined the streets. (I learned that this is normal and not a bad neighborhood) She helped me with my luggage into my small one room apartment and gasped when I stepped in without taking off my boots. Culture note #1, TAKE OFF SHOES IN HOME. Jane must’ve noticed the exhausted look in my eyes because she brought in some blankets, said James would be here at 11 AM the next day to take me to the market, and left me in my new home.
I’m not sure what to expect of Korean apartments but I kind of like mine. It is very much like a studio at the Sitka, but smaller. You walk in to a small entryway with cupboards and a stove for a kitchen. Big glass doors open up to a single room with a twin bed and a television atop two drawers. Additional sliding glass doors open to a small room with a washing machine and a rack to put your clothes on to dry. The bathroom has a sink and a toilet and a small shelf and a shower head right in the middle of it. Korean culture does not have shower curtains and when you bathe, there is only a drain and everything gets wet. You have to wear shower shoes (thank goodness I brought sandals) as the floor fills up and takes some time to drain. I’m not a big fan of showering here. The bathroom always seems dirty and looks and smells like a wet bathroom. I have to take toilet paper out before I shower and put it back in after the bathroom is dry enough. I really should’ve brought more towels. There is no fan and only a small window you can open which since I’m on the first floor makes for a great view while I shower.
Once I unpacked, the apartment, in its one room wonder, still looked empty. They told me the apartment would be furnished. This of course meant a TV and a bed and a small built in wardrobe to put your clothes. Thank goodness I overpacked and brought sheets and a towel and my curtains. There is a small double drawer side table that the tv sits on, but naturally the drawers don't actually open unless I use brute force and break off the handle (yes it happened twice). Needless to say, I will be leaving several things for the future teachers to enjoy as I need a nice comfortable home to survive.
Anyway, I got up and showered even though I felt like I could sleep for days to be sure I was ready by 11 AM the next morning. I was horrified keeping my phone on since I didn’t know if roaming charges applied, but I needed an alarm. I couldn’t use the internet as I didn’t know the password so I spent half the night awake wondering how long it’d take for my mother to call the embassy before I could check in with her. The apartment had no dishes and no glasses and I didn’t know if the water was safe, so I took some Tylenol with the only liquid I had. Whiskey in my flask. It was 11:30 and no one had come to get me yet so I sat in bed reading a book and left the door unlocked for when he would arrive.
James didn’t arrive until after 1:30. I had fallen asleep and woke to a man standing in front of my bed looking at me puzzled. What a lovely way to meet my school manager. Me, disheveled half asleep and apologetic and James mostly horrified that I fell asleep with the doors unlocked. Yay. Great start for me and Korea. He took me to the market where we realized I did not have any Korean money on me and their ATM machines would not read my card. Superb. I only had the $100 cash I took out while still in Oregon. James walked me around the market and helped me pick out a few items and paid for them. One of the items being toilet paper as there was none in the apartment and it only came in 24 pack rolls. Since that moment wasn’t awkward…AT ALL... I got a few satsumas, some potato chips, some ramen, some Korean orange juice (which I later realized tastes like hell), a loaf of bread, a bottle of water, and plastic mug. I did not want to drink out of my flask anymore thanks. I had made a list that morning of things I would need from the store, but now felt incredibly awkward asking for any of them as I didn’t have won and James would have to pay with the cash he had in hand. Dishes, cleaning supplies, plug in converters, hangers, hammer, nails… We stopped at a little ‘everything’ store and he helped me pick out a few items. He kept pointing to this weird cord which everything about it was lost in translation so I walked forward to the hangers and grabbed the few items I found necessary for the moment.
Then we went to lunch. Horrified that I’d order something I didn’t understand and be forced to eat it all, we went to Imsil Pizza. I figured I could eat anything there. When I started looking at the menu, I began to worry as all I could see were different kinds of fish pizzas and James told me his favorite was the potato pizza. On the last page, I spotted Hawaiian pizza and ordered. Pizza was served with a plate of diced pickles. I got excited and reached for one. It was a sweet relish pickle. Not exactly gross, but definitely not what I was expecting. James looked at me with an awkward eye as he grabbed his fork and reached for a pickle as well. Apparently my eating pickles with my hands was not approved. Meh. The pizza was actually ok even if I had to eat it with a fork and knife. It appears I’ll be able to survive here as long as pizza exists. Once back at my apartment, James tried to start my internet and I realized that’s where the cord played a role. I didn’t have one so no internet for me. I tried to ask him to take me to get the cord, but again, everything was lost in translation. I tried to call my mom then, figuring no fee would be too high on the phone bill for her to know I was not placed in human trafficking, but the phone was shut off. James then told me that Monday was their independence day and everything would be closed but he’d stop by to check in on me. So that means class starts on Tuesday, banks open on Tuesday, and I’m left in an apartment in an unknown world with no connections and no money and little to no food. Ugh. I spent Sunday on a walk around downtown which was amazing. I passed a clothing store that only sold cardigans and vests and stripes!! The weather was perfect. All the people I passed were nice and cheery and I was fascinated as a tourist taking pictures for a few hours. I learned I was very close to the school and my walk there took no time at all. Sunday was a good restful calm day of being content being alone. Yes, I was hungry and I wanted to call my mom, but all in all, I was ok. Now it is Monday. James, Che, and Jane were supposed to meet me. No one is here yet….
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