My final Korean posting

Well, it's been about 14 months since I first came here and I was urged to make a reflective final posting. I'm not sure if it'll be funny, so you can stop here if you so choose.



I've booked my ticket home and I'll be leaving and arriving in Toronto on the 5th of March.



It's been a hell of a ride. I'm watching my 3rd Simpsons episode of the night (a staple in my nightly routine) and it's a clip show. I thought I may be able to get away with a similar "recyclage de chose". I think I will talk about things that I've experienced over the year, that I may or may not have already talked about on here.



Hapkido

So I did about 6 months of training 3 times a week and I achieved the level of "green belt" which, unfortunately, meant I was able to start doing cool stuff. For the 6 months before I was working with a class of very young children and some older ones, but they were mostly special needs kids. Although I was very nice to them, I felt like I was doing something really wrong so I was relieved when I started training with two older black-belt guys who'd taken a while off and were just getting back into it.

I was then faced (well, only in the mirror) with my eye thing, and the doctor told me that I needed to stop Hapkido so it could properly heal. He gave me the reassurance that any martial art was unnecessary in Korea as it was a safe country, and I should just call police. I could have argued that in a country where almost every person was trained (often to black-belt) in Taekwondo or some similar kick-centric pass-time and every male over the age of 21 had basic military training, that it was my responsibility to learn how to kick another guy in the head.

I kept going despite Doctor's orders. The thing swelled after being tossed to the floor.
Turns out the doctor wasn't making up his diagnosis.
So ended Hapkido.

I saw the younger guy who was my instructor, walking down the street. I thought it would be a good time to tell him I was going home soon, but our conversation was quite limited. I expressed that I would be going home in a few weeks using a combination of English and fragmented Korean, and he replied saying that I was "good". I assumed that meant in most aspects of life including Hapkido and thought it was a rather kind compliment.
And that's the end of that episode.


General conclusion

I started writing this with a very episodic plan of talking about more hilarious things that have happened, but I can't think of anything now that I've started to write.

It's been a wicked year. The job was pretty consistent and treated me well. The staff was fun and I didn't really experience any jarring changes or anything like that so I'm pleased with the way things have gone. The area was nice. I got to know some shop-keepers and was able to meet a friend on the street walking to or from work.

I managed to maintain a rather good relationship with the owner of my school. I was concerned around August that my attempts to undo the "dungeonizing" of our classrooms would put a bit of strain on our relationship, but I got through that just fine.

Background story **When I came back from summer holidays, the classrooms, which all had large windows and most had direct sunlight at some point in the day, were all wallpapered so as to only let in a dulled version of natural light. In protest I wrote a letter highlighting the financial, educational and emotional benefits of transparent glass. He liked the idea of the letter, not so much the logic it conveyed.
As a compromise, he took me out for dinner and ignored my suggestions.

The kids were fun, for the most part. They said hilarious things and really liked to rub my face. I was able to throw them around (in a playful fashion), and I think that most of them liked me. I think my immune system has been reinforced 10-fold since I came to Korea, but my finger nails seem to be as black as a mechanic's. I'm not sure these are related issues or how the kids do it but I thought it important to stress that, most of the time, my finger nails are really dirty.

I have figured out a way to play guitar and sing at the same time. I thought I wasn't able to do that successfully before I left, but I was thrust into it enough to force me to learn. I've learned a few songs, and had people singing along to them the last time I played. My name appears on the board outside the pub every now and then as a way to draw patrons. Every time it's there, the night is wildly successful. The owner never tells me when he puts my name on, however, so I often miss those nights and the general success has nothing to do with my playing (or does it...?).

My Korean language skills have improved dramatically since my first posting on this topic. I am able to formulate sentences with scathing wit, and I have learned that some of the worst swear words in Korean are very close to the words for 18 and "dog baby" and are intensified if they are used together. I can order pizza or deep fried fish on the phone. I can object to (and be ignored by) cabbies and their elongated routes and inflated fares. I am able to give street directions to old Korean women looking for E-Mart.

I feel happy about my achievements and I only have 2 more things to do- I will eat live writhing, fresh octopus and try dog soup (spare me your personal opinions on this - octopi are as edible as the next creature). I think I've done a fair amount this year, and I have no regrets.

See you soon; a few palm leaves would be a suitable welcome.

A few problems

Socks
It would seem that my socks have made some kind of agreement whereby they all decided to allow a rapid deterioration of the heel-region, thus making them unwearable. I no longer have a healthy supply of sport-socks (thick, white, ribbed and can be stretched to my knees with a little love and pulling) that are acceptible to wear in public. I know many of you may think that a hole in the heel is not a big deal, but I've heard that it's a matter of indecency here, arrestible even. Also, I never really know if I'll be required to take off my shoes in the day, so I'd rather not chance wearing one of the holy ones.

A simple solution would be to just purchase new socks, but, I've never done that before and I'll be damned if I start now.

I also can't throw them out. I have a thing against putting fabric in the garbage. I feel like it shouldn't be allowed. I've spent my whole life avoiding contact between potentially staining agents and fabric, espeicially of the white variety. Rather, I've utilized an effective knotting system that lets me clearly see which socks are intact and which are in shambles, avoiding the garbage problem entirely. The proportion of good socks to not, in my drawer, is heavily skewed and the trend suggest things will get worse before they get better.

On the up-side, my students have been giving me new socks in droves. It's a seems to be a go-to present here for teachers. I've probably gotten 6 or 7 pairs of patterned formal socks. I wouldn't consider this to be an answer to my impending sport-socklessness, but it is offsetting some of my angsiety.

Helpful suggestions would be appreciated.



Poked in the Eye
Weeks ago, I suffered a condition perpetrated by my otherwise perfect genetic make-up, which caused a rather bulbous protuberance to form below my eye. It was weird looking, and unwisely aggravated by my amateur attempts at dermatology. I got it dealt with professionally and it was almost healed within the week.

Last week, however, I was playing soccer as I sometimes do, and I went up for a rather showy header, but due to some sporadic wind or the gleam of floodlight reflecting off the keeper the ball connected squarely with my eye and not my forehead. Needless to say, this angered my then dormant friend, causing it to swell once more. I awoke the next morning to see that he had angrily returned, but this time it was a wonderful yellowy-brown and reddish-purple colour.
I iced it and tried other things to keep down the swelling, and it seemed to be mildly effective.

One night, I had just finished Hapkido and I was hungry. I went down to the little kimbap house downstairs for food as I often do and was welcomed warmly by my friend Mr. Ha. He and I often have awkward exchanges in broken attempts at each other's languages. Although we are probably having two completely different conversations, I enjoy it and his establishment.

As I was getting some water, Mr. Ha noticed my injury and waved me over to inspect it more closely. I was mid-stride when, unexpectedly, Mr. Ha drove his index finger into my clearly bruised and otherwise untouchable bump. I recoiled in pain, and expressed my disapproval with a rather scathing lowered brow and curled lip. I don't know why he did it, nor do I know if he intended to hurt me. I do know that it was unlike him. He had never poked at my eye before.

I finished my meal in quiet rage.

I, again, have an irate welt beneath my eye and I am trying, fruitlessly, to make it go away.

Helpful suggestions would be appreciated.



I'm not sure I've officially declared my intentions to stay for an extra 2 months. The job is still fine, and the kids are still fun so I thought it would be the easiest way to offset the inevitable feelings of loss likely to occur when I leave. It has absolutely nothing to do with the holiday that is sandwiched between my final months.
As it stands now, I'll be home at the end of February, as that's the end of the Kindergarten session.

Keep the streamers, but throw away the cake-- it won't keep as long.

Stairwell realizations

Let me set the scene.
It's late, probably about 12:30 and I'd apparently used up most, if not all, of my mental abilities. I was all set to get myself prettied for bed and I remembered that I hadn't had a chance to get to E-mart to buy some milk or cereal.

Luckily, there's a convenient store located on the main floor of my building. I can buy a mini box of Frosted Flakes and litre of milk for a mildly inflated price. I finished cleaning the dishes, slipped on my flops, and headed out of my room to the stairwell.

I must now provide some key pieces of information:

I've been in this apartment for almost 10 months and it's pretty small. Handed an ordinarily lengthed broom (by Canadian, not Korean standards-- a significant difference in length) I can open the door and flush the toilet in a few swoops, from the comfort of my bed. This means I have sort of melded many of my daily routines into one otherwise common space. In an effort to reduce wasted time, I only remain partially dressed when I'm not entertaining company.

There's little sense in dirtying up a t-shirt or pair of pants if I'm just going to watch TV or cook bacon, I don't have the soap or the time for that kind of luxury.

So, to sum up, I often take liberties in terms of attire when lazing about my room.


May I return to the story?

I made it to the staircase, presumably unseen, and down about 25-30 steps when my stomach clenched into a tight ball of embarrassed concern. I dropped my head to see if I was wearing any pants...



I was.

Now, some of you may think this is a stupid story because I was, in fact, fully dressed.

I disagree. Not wearing pants would have made me look like an idiot. It would be as likely as me peeing myself. I have had 2 decades of intense social conditioning which eliminates such a possibility. I argue, however, that the possibility of pantslessness and my concern of pantslessness is funnier than actual pantslessness. I really thought I was in my underwear, and given my fancy-free bachelor lifestyle, it seemed entirely possible as I bounded down the stairs. In light of this scare, I have taken preventative measures in the form of a brief checklist taped to my door which outlines basic and appropriate multi-seasonal attire. I have eliminated this fear entirely and it hasn't happened since.

anyways, that's where I'm at physically and mentally, here in Hwajeong.

Things are going well. There have been some changes to my schedule, but they have all been subtractions so I'm pretty okay with that. The weather has been humid but the nights are starting to get a little colder. Today provided me with a neat little anecdote. For Chuseok, I was given a hanbok to wear whilst making songpyeon.

As that means nothing to many of you, I shall elaborate...

A week-or-so ago I was asked if I would wear a traditional Korean outfit for their Thanksgiving celebration called Chuseok. It was the last day before the break so we did it up today. The actual day is on Sunday, I think. It's a lunar-calendar based holiday so it changes periodically.

I was in charge of helping the lads of Kiwi class change into their Hanboks. These are very colourful, layered garments, worn for major celebrations (weddings, birthdays, etc.). All the kids brought theirs from home so it was a bit of a chore to get them all changed but it was very cute once they were all dressed.

Some of the boys were more excited about the prospect of being allowed to run around the classroom in their underwear, but otherwise it was a pretty tame process.

I was proud of my accomplishment, having only a slight idea how to dress these kids. Then it was my turn to get dressed. I was handed 2 hanger-fulls of a bright pink and majenta (a colour that I had only learned today) fabric. I hadn't any idea how to put it on, but I locked myself in the bathroom stall and used the ol' trial and error method.

There were many strings that needed to be tied, but some just didn't seem possible to connect. Operating on a same-width logic, I was able to connect all the pieces to their respective partners. The garment went on relatively easily after that. The pants could have likely accomodated 5 of me, but that made them all the more hilarious.

By the end, I had everything on, except for 2 loose ribbons still tied to the hanger. I did a little jump to make sure nothing would spring off, and proceeded out of the bathroom looking for someone who knew what the extra ribbons were for. I was concerned, however, that they served some kind of personal purpose and were not to be carried around in one's hand.

I timidly asked the desk-teacher what they were and she bent down and tied them around my ankles. They were to keep my pants from engulfing my shoes (which were my ratty old Chucks- not terribly appropriate) when I walked. They succeeded in their mission, and they looked pretty sharp.

Once dressed we made a rice snack called songpyeon, and that was the bulk of the experience. I was glad they got me a Hanbok to wear. It made me feel very Korean.



I also thought it would be worth while to talk about my advances in Hapkido. My last entry on the subject discussed how I was essentially paying $100 a month to learn how to fall, but it's come a ways from that. I've been learning how to jump over mats head first and roll out of it, an array of kicks, and other defence techniques. I've also been introduced to some weapons. I have been practicing my staff twirling for the last little while, and I think it's gotten significantly better.

I had a level test last week, which asked me to show the approximately 20 different ways of getting out of someone grabbing at your wrist, and I passed. Now, I can evade my attacker, but only if he is standing in front of me, grabbing my left wrist in an over-hand grip, without any weapons, and if he is willing to let me choose and execute my manouver without holding too tightly or resisting my efforts.

You've all been warned...

I am now a level 2 white belt. I have to wait til my next test to change colours. I hope I actually get my yellow belt within the next month or so.

Also, I was given the honour of learning how to use Nunchucks in a defensive way. I had to learn a series of blocks and keep the master from smacking me with a practice sword. It was fun. I decided to purchase a pair to practice at home with. I had arguably the coolest shopping list I've ever made...

• Jam
• Juice
• Nunchucks

All of these items were purchased at the E-mart across the street, and I was eating PBJ sandwiches, swinging my chucks all night.

Like I said, things are good

Evan

post script:

"If you want to be happy, then call me because I am going to tickle you."

-A little pick-me-up written to me by a 5 year-old boy called Thomas

Sketches from past days

It's been some time since I wrote anything of substance on here. Things have been busy with vacation and various visits from family and friends. I've got a few stories, but this one in particular stood out.

A half-cut, water-bottle vase
I was recently given a little assortment of roses.
The circumstances in which I acquired the flowers is not really relevant to the story, so I will omit those details.

The story is more of a moment of adult-ness for which I was unprepared. I received the gift rather unexpectedly, reflexively left them on the counter. I really didn't think much of them, other than "hey, cool. I've never gotten flowers before". After a while I began to feel guilty that they had been living horizontally when, as everyone knows, they prefer a more vertical orientation. I thought, 'they need a vase'.

I was then gripped by a battery of realizations...

• I don't own a vase.
• I don't know where the best place to buy a vase is.
• I can't remember if the shape has anything to do with anything.
• I don't know if regular water goes into the vase or if there's some kind of secret vase-water, that I've just never known about.
• I'm not sure if you're supposed to do anything to the flowers before placing them into the vase.
• I don't know whether puter or blown glass will coordinate better with the green-ish colour scheem I've tried to maintain in my room.

My mind was reeling, but calmed by a sudden flash of insight: perhaps an empty box of strawberry Frosted Flakes could be the happy home. Inspired mainly by those little portable cereals where the milk is poured into the cross-sectioned bag, I emptied the box. However, I decided not to because I thought it might look a bit silly.

The search resumed, and I attempted a number of vase-shaped containers but nothing seemed adult enough.
I finally settled on a Mason jar, and I think the arrangement looked quite nice.

Anyways, the point of the story (other than the obvious and almost excessive manliness I have managed to gather in the last 7 months) is to know how to deal with the complexities of adult life. To conclude, Mason jars are a wonderful go-to vase (second only to a vase). Also, you use the same water as from the tap.

Sidenote** Japan was wicked fun and it was lovely to see the family. I just didn't write a long note about it because I used all my creative juices to write about a vase, and I have sadly run out of said juices. Perhaps I will be rejuvinated mid-week to adequately describe that and other noteworthy experiences of the last few months.

until then.

Interview Tips and Things to Bring to Korea

This is more of a post for people who are coming to Korea to teach. I've had lots of people ask for some things to think about when figuring out a contract, yadda, yadda, and it's hard to find.
Here it goes.

before an interview, these are some things to consider...

-I opted for a large-ish foreign staff ( I have 7 and it's a good number) and I think it's a good situation

- You shouldn't settle for a job for less than 2.1 mil. Won. That's a standard wage for an unqualified, unexperienced teacher.

- Your school should offer a curriculum, and you should have text books. Some prep time is expected, but many schools have a structured curriculum. Some don't, so make sure you know what they expect from you

- Flight and living will be covered, that's standard.

- It's nice to have your apartment walking distance from a subway. I'd even fish for a place in Seoul or Pusan (as close to the centre is better) anywhere near Jongno, Hongdae, Dongdaemun, Itaewon is downtown Seoul. I'm about 40 mins outside by subway and it's a little far sometimes. There are lots of jobs in the city, and lots outside. Just depends what you want.

- Vacation should be the various holidays, maybe a week in July, and a week or so at Christmas. It varies depending on the school and I would make sure there is nothing on the weekends.

- Working 40 hours a week is a bit much (relatively speaking). Lots of schools don't make you do that. Mine does and it is tough some days. Make sure they factor in your prep time to the days so you have breaks throughout the day

- Ask how overtime is paid, it varies from school to school but it's important you're not getting screwed on that.

- Ask about dress-code. Some schools like ties and collared shirts, some like sandals and cargo shorts. Nice to know what to expect, especially when packing.

- Apartments can be a single, mine is but I know of some shared accomodations. It's your preference. And it should have the essentials, washing machine, gas range (no oven) maybe sheets. that kind of thing.


If you're already coming, here are other things you may want to know..

-You should bring any kind of foot wear (dress, athletic, sandal, etc.) if your feet are large. It's my understanding that it's difficult to find anything over a size 10 American mens. Women sizes are also hard to find if your feet are larger than average ( I think).

- There are Costco stores all around Seoul, if you need an American product, that's a pretty reliable source.

- Fitted sheets are hard to find, as are large sized towels. I brought both of mine from home.

- Many personal hygene products can be hard to find as well, if you have any particular preference to a brand bring a healthy supply (deodarant, toothpaste, or anything else). Clothing stores are in abundance and can be cheap, but larger sizes can be hard to come by. Major labels can be found here, but if it's not Korean it's usually more expensive.

- Level of enjoyment- It's been fine. The days can be long, but it's manageable. Like any job there have been highs and lows and all that stuff, but I'm generally satisfied with the job. If you're willing to do what the parents ask (within reason, of course) then you'll have no problems.

- Get a contact of someone at the school you're signing with, it's usually the best way to get a feel for the environment.

- The best advice I can give you is to be open to the differences that are here. Compared to Canada, Korea is a very different place to live and there are many of subtle things that take some getting used to. The situation is weird at first, but perfectly livable. I like being here, and I've made tons of good friends and had some wonderful experiences.

- Bring a laptop, your cell phone will probably not work here, its often cheaper to eat out than to cook at home, take things seriously, but not too seriously and you'll have a good time.

sketches from the last month or so

I've experienced some things in the last little while. I will now share them with you...

Kickin' it
A few weeks ago, I saw a TV show about these 2 guys training for a Korean Martial Art style called Hapkido in Seoul and I thought it looked kind of interesting. I found (had my head teacher find) a local place that met my standards and payed a rather high amount for a month of training. The place instantly impressed me as the whole floor was made of a foamy hard-wood patterned vinyl. I had an urge to childishly collapse onto the floor for fun, but I didn't. I wanted to keep a kind of stoic foreigner mystique so I stayed in control.
The teacher was some kind of master in his day. There are photos of him on the wall and he's doing some crazy things so I decided that I shouldn't make fun of him, and that he was adequately suited to teach me. He doesn't speak any English, however. It's been going surprisingly well considering I have no idea what he tells me to do.

On the first day, I was excited to do some sparring and 2-footed jump kicks but he thought it was best I learn how to fall down. Although this satisfied my earlier craving, falling was significantly less glorious than I was expecting. But, I suppose you gotta walk before you can run. Or, rather, fall before you can kick. So I've been going every other day, fallng like a pro so I can have a brightly coloured belt for when I get home. Wish me luck.

Teeth on lap
I was on the subway last night heading out for a pint, when I observed a very intoxicated old Korean man. He was sitting in the old people section with his feet up (as was his want) reading the paper. He seemed perfectly content, minus the random sleep-driven, full body nods.

As I watched his progress with the newspaper, he took out his teeth.

I wasn't sure that's what they were at first, but when he pressed them back up into his gums, I figured it was a correct assumption. I think he just needed to clean them. Perhaps flick off some food, shake out any foreign particles, etc. He was not phased by the audience. He snapped his wrist with the teeth in hand (like a hockey player packing chew) and went on reading.
Once the teeth were replaced, he yelled at me to sit down. I didn't because I was terrified of any other self-cleaning rituals he had planned for the ride, so I respectfully declined his offer. He spent the rest of the trip yelling at me, possibly insulting me, but I can't be sure of that. This happened in the span of about 5 minutes.
The subway is an endless source of entertainment.

Mud
Last weekend I was in an area called Daechon (not to be confused with Daejon) at Boryeong beach. It was Mudfest, and every single foreigner in Korea made the journey to get muddy and sunburned (in that order).
As we debussed, we wandered around the area in search of our minbok. It's a room with no furniture, a few fixtures and a bathroom. Ideal for sleeping on the hard floor. It was cheap and perfect for all muddy intents and purposes.
The festival was almost exactly as I had envisioned. Picture masses of people covered from head to toe in a kind of greeny-gray sludge.
Before we got to the main drag though, I saw random couples wearing dry, crusted mud walking among the normal people. It looked kind of like a post-apocalyptic society where the mud-people and the non-mud-people were living in perfect harmony. I was inspired.

The day was filled with various ways to get very dirty. There was a prison where people throw pots of mud at you, there was wrestling, racing games, a band shell and a beach all in the span of about a square km.
I saw many good friends both randomly and planned and fired off Roman Candles. Fireworks and beach are always a wonderful combination. Unless you're engaged in some kind of warfare, but that's for another blog.
I was terribly sunburned, remained in my muddy bathing suit for the whole weekend, and destroyed my phone. But it was great fun. I recommend that you mud up at least once a year, twice if you work in finance.



That's all I can really think of. The fam is in China now and I'll see them on Tuesday. Next weekend we're all off to Japan so I'm excited. I expect to have a utility-belt full of stories upon my return.

You should just bookmark this site now, to save the unnecessary address typing time.

If you'll excuse me, I must peel skin from my back and forehead.