the beginning of the end

As my time in Korea is coming to an end I am so overcome with emotion, I don’t know where to begin….

Teaching and living here for a year has been one of the most incredible experiences of my life. It has opened my mind as well as my heart. My students have effected me in a way that I will never be able to communicate. It is going to be painful to leave them, but I do know that I have effected their lives as well, which is exactly what I came here to do. I held my last classes this week and as I tried to express how much I am going to miss them, they responded with such things as, “When you go back to America, I will miss you.” “I will never forget you, thank you.” And “Pleassssssse don’t go!” Every class brought me to the verge of tears. “Don’t cry,” they told me…. I have come to love them so very much.

Me & my 5th graders

I think my openness and willingness to fully embrace this culture and these people has allowed me to get so much out of this experience. It is an important lesson, I have learned first hand: Let life happen. Let people in. It is incredibly rewarding.

The littlest ones

growing up in the sticks

It seems as though the main view of families and children growing up in rural parts of the world is one of disadvantage; less money results in poor education and opportunities. However, observing the kids of Choonyang these past 10 months, I have seen that there are great advantages to living without some of the luxuries of today’s society.

In general, people tend to be more connected to one another; families and friends spend a lot of time together. Because there are fewer people around, everyone knows and is friends with one an other. The community feels comforting, even to me, an outsider.

Choonyang Elementary School, while having little money and outdated facilities, is a tight knight environment. There are 50 kids in the entire school and about 25 staff total. For the students, this means more time with the teachers, which I think is much more beneficial than state of the art equipment.

And when the kids finish the day at school, they play. Play like kids are supposed to play, by throwing rocks into a river, riding bikes, playing hide-and-seek. Perhaps more particular to Korea than America, kids here are obsessed with playing computer games and hang out in “PC Rooms” for hours engulfed in the virtual world. I see it as a benefit that my students don’t have access to such things by living out in the middle of nowhere.  They can enjoy the simple pleasures of being a kid and of interacting with each other rather than with avatars on a computer screen.

These kids are perfectly happy, each and everyday. And, I hope, that as they grow up it remains that way. I hope that they don’t begin to think they are at a disadvantage because society tells them so. That even as they learn what they don’t have, they can appreciate what they do.

pictures from Korea!

check out pictures & videos of me and my students!!

http://ilovekorea.shutterfly.com/

Korean Kindness

On my way to school today an old Korean man bought me a cup of coffee. Just as I got off the bus he approached me and insisted I come inside for some coffee… Of course, the only word I understood was “cawpi” (which simply translates as coffee). I was timid at first, being unable to communicate with people in Korean still makes certain social situations fearful for me, but he was persistent, so I followed him inside. There were a handful of old Korean men sitting down chatting. I think the man who bought me the coffee proceeded to tell them all that I was an American English teacher at Choonyang Elementary. One of them looked at me with a big smile and said, “Hello, hi!” We sat there for 5-10 minute while I drank. We managed to communicate some basic things; where each of us lives, that he is not a father of one of my students, that he owns a motorbike and that I take the bus.

This was such a pleasant reminder as to how well respected teachers are in this country, particularly foreign teachers. I think maybe because Koreans are crazy about learning English, but regardless of the reason, it makes teaching here a very welcoming experience. I feel like Americans have a bad rep in many countries around the world, which I have felt in some places in Europe and even New Zealand and Australia, but here that is not the case. “America, good!” Is the typical response here. And I have experienced many, many random acts of Korean kindness as a result. Perhaps because of being both a teacher and an American. Korean stranger’s have bought me bus tickets, dinner, coffee, given me rides home as well as lots of smiles on the street.

This man who bought me a 50 cent coffee just made my day. Sometimes whenever I am not in the greatest of moods all I have to do is look up and smile at the people around me – on the bus, at school, in the market – and I feel welcomed and happy again. Thanks Korea

being blonde in korea

Korea is the most homogeneous country I have ever visited. My genetic profile is quite different – blonde hair, green eyes, white skin – and as a result I rarely go unnoticed. Sometimes this is a lot of fun. It kind of feels like a weird sort of fame. People stare in awe when you enter a restaurant, children on the street wave and holler, “Hello! Nice to meet you!” as you pass on the street. And, one of my favorite perks, Korean “service”.

Korean’s like to give discounts or extra food/goods to foreigners just for being foreign.  Often, when buying a bag oranges the clerk throws a few extra in, looks at me with a smile and says, “sa-bis-eu”. Translation: “service” in typical Korean pronunciation. Why? Truthfully, I have no idea. But I’m not about to question a custom brings me free stuff.

I must say that I also enjoy the excitement it gives Korean children to practice their English with me on the street. It’s the brave ones that usually offer a hello after a few seconds of staring at me as I walk towards them. When I reciprocate the greeting, their faces just light up. It never gets old. The older ones, who know a bit more English, will sometimes regurgitate the other two common phrases that are beat into them in school, “How are you? Nice to meet you!” And without fail, it always makes me laugh. They are so friggin’ cute.

There are also times when looking so foreign simply sucks. On days when I’m feeling not my best, am sick, or just in a terrible mood, it is really annoying to be constantly stared at. There is no flying under the radar here for me and so, when I feel awful I usually look awful and everybody knows it. Perhaps it is a good way to practice being vulnerable, but never the less it is not a pleasure. Not to mention that Koreans are utterly blunt. At Taekwondo last week, I was have an unfortunate breakout of pimples on my face and my Taekwondo master was not shy to point it out, very curious as to what could have brought about the eruption. For us Westerners, this is rude, but in Korea it simply shows concern. It’s uncomfortable having people point out my flaws so nonchalantly, and after 8 months it’s something I’m still getting used to.

But, in all honesty, I think the free food is worth it.

being a part of the staff… relationships with Korean teachers.

As my second semester at Choonyang Elementary begins, I wanted to shed some light on what life is like working in a Korean school; not what it’s like to teach the kids, but to be a part of the staff…

Socially, Korean schools are very different from what I imagine it is like inside US schools. There are specific social norms and customs that I follow daily, but the culture here dictates a much different routine from western ways.

Confusionism has its roots in Korean culture, and thus, those on top and those who are eldest are treated with upmost respect. So much so that, the Korean language has an honorific form, which is used when speaking to those “above” you. I use this every morning when I get to school and greet my principal and vice principal. It is the first thing I do; knock knock… “An-nyoung-shim-ni-ka,” accompanied by a head bow. Then I slide the door closed and repeat the process for the vice principle. I’m not sure what would happen if this ritual were not carried out. Since I am a foreigner, I can get away with messing up cultural formalities at times, but I’m certain I would be treated with less respect if this greeting was not performed regularly.

At lunch, the principal and vice principals places are always set prior to their arrival. The administration sits together at one table, the maintenance workers sit together at another and the teachers, grades K-6, sit with their children. It is all very hierarchical. I sit wherever I want because I am foreign – sometimes with the principal, sometimes with the repair man, sometimes with the students. It is nice to have that freedom, which I received only starting my second semester, I believe because I have gained their trust and respect.

The food ALWAYS consists of rice and soup and kimchi. Additionally, there are 2-3 dishes to accompany the meal and fruit for dessert. Very healthy compared to what I know of western school lunches, and probably a major factor in my ability to loss weight here, despite the fact that I feel pressure to finish everything on my plate as a show of respect. If I don’t, sometimes I get scolded by the lunch lady. Seriously. This is strictly enforced on the students who must show their empty trays to their teacher before being dismissed.

In the cafeteria as well as in the hallways, the children love to wave hello to me and run up and give me high fives. This is quite unusual in Korean culture. Typically, in my school, the teachers are bowed to and greeted with, “Sarang-ni-da,” which means, I love you. I’m still not sure why they use that phrase… but nonetheless, I enjoy interacting with the students on a more equal level. I don’t want them to be scared of me, which I think is the goal of some Korean teachers. It seems to me that the line of fear and respect is quite blurred, where respect and formality are demanded. I, on the other hand, often toy with the line of fun and respect and I can tell that the other teachers think this is a bit odd.

Every Wednesday we play volleyball. This is one of my favorite parts of Korean school culture. Everyone on staff is involved – cooks, admin, teachers – and placement on the court is based purely on skill (not rank in seniority). However, I swear it might be a requirement on the resumes of principals to be volleyball champions, because damn they are always good!

There is a lot of competitiveness, but also a lot of cheering and encouragement. The worst players – ahhem, me – usually receive the most praise and double high fives for any contact with the ball.  And every now and then there are tournaments with all the neighboring schools in the area. We play in a round robin fashion, and have tons and tons of snacks to munch on while off the court. The thing that first struck me as odd was the plentiful supply of beer and wine and soju (Korean liquor). What? Alcohol on school grounds? You better believe it. American culture severely restricts the ability to  enjoy alcohol moderately in social situations, but in Korea it’s all a part of the game.

Drinking. That brings me to the last bit of school culture; celebrations. They happen often… birthdays, welcomings, random occasions. And when Koreans celebrate, they drink. During my first celebration of a teachers birthday I was pulled out of a class I was teaching to drink wine and eat cake in the teachers room for 45 minutes. I was thoroughly shocked.

Welcoming parties for the new semester, new year or to bring on a new member of the staff, are even more extravagant. Called, hwae-shik in Korean, it’s when all the teachers go out to dinner together (and is usually followed by a few hours bowling or singing karaoke). The food is plentiful, as is the liquor. I don’t think I have ever made it through a hwae-shik sober. The drinking customs here are ones I have really enjoyed learning and taking part in. Rule #1: you are not to pour your own drink. When it is empty, someone will refill it for you. If you don’t want to drink anymore, simple leave your glass unfinished. Rule #2: soju is king. And it is served by the shot glass. Rule #3: it is a sign of respect to offer someone a drink. This is done by kneeling before them and handing them a shot glass with both hands. Once, the glass is in both hands of the receiver, the soju is poured. Then, drank in one gulp. Younger people must turn there heads away from elders when they drink, and after the alcohol is downed, the ritual is reciprocated. It is impolite (unless you are driving, pregnant, etc.) not to drink. Talk about being backwards from western beliefs. Moreover, if you are the one being welcomed, initiated, get ready to get drunk. There is some wiggle room for women, but if you are a man, you will be offered many shots and you must drink.

As you can imagine, within an hour or so the table turns into, what can only be described as a party. People are moving from place to place, laughing and talking real loud and getting a bit touchy feely (also normal in Korea). After having been a part of this experience, I really think it is quite healthy for the relationships among the teachers and the environment of the school. With my very limited Korean and the other teachers limited English, my conversation at these dinners is minimal. At first, this was unconfortable, but I have learned to enjoy watching and the rituals and resulting craziness unfold before my eyes. It is a cultural treat.

My relationships with my fellow teachers was not created and is not sustained via conversation… it is through interactions and social gatherings. Just goes to show how possible it is to bond without language, which has truly been a very enlightening adventure.

From this, I have to take away the realization that people are all the same. Although we may celebrate and express things in different ways, and speak different languages based on where we were born and how we were raised, we all crave to be connected to one another – through love, acceptance, compassion. It is a warming truth to come to, and I will forever be thankful to the staff at Choonyang Elementary School for welcoming me into their family.

you know you’re in korea when…

…your Taekwondo Master lies you down, whips out a box of live bees and sticks you with their venom to relieve your muscle pain.

As I’ve learned over the past few months my Taekwondo Master is not only that, but a licensed chiropractor, acupuncturist and yogi. A true jack of all trades. So, when he made a throwing motion with his hands and ushered me into his office, naturally, I thought he was going to do some acupuncture on my hip, which had been recently causing me some pain. But this time instead of retrieving a few needles to stick me with he pulled out a buzzing box of bees. Well, shit. What have I gotten myself into this time? Feeling like there was no turing back – he was crushing a bee between his fingers and pulling out the stinger – and also a slight curiosity at the procedure, I just went along with it. Of course, I had the desire to ask some questions about what and why he was about  to inject bee venom into me, but I have not learned all that in Korean just yet. So I sat quiet and watched, intrigued.

It felt no different than a tiny sting, no different from what I remember as a kid. But did it work? I’m not sure. I wanted to think that it did in the days that followed and so my hip felt pretty good, but I’m never blind to the power of the mind in these types of situations. After doing a bit of research, however, I learned bee venom has many pharmaceutical properties and bee venom therapy can be used to treat things from MS to Lyme Disease (http://www.beevenom.com/). As someone who has always been interested in alternative methods of medicine, this was quite a first hand experience I had, one that certainly would not have been legit in the U.S. Welcome to Korea.

one week as a buddhist

I recently spent one week at a buddhist temple learning the ways of the ancient religion and practicing meditation. I had never meditated before, but this was one of my reasons for going on this retreat, to learn from the best. And it was not easy. 7 hours every day for 7 days spent trying to clear the mind, trying not to think. The whole retreat is conducted in silence, even mealtime is a routine led by slaps of a stick and bows. The purpose of it all is to force the mind to focus on the here and now. When you are doing something just do it. Sounds pretty simple, huh? Not so much.

Mealtime was probably the most stressful part of my day because the rituals of eating were so rigid. 4 bowls: water, rice, vegetable, soup. Nothing goes in the water bowl except water, nothing goes in the rice bowl but rice. Wait for the soup before taking vegetables from the shared veggie dishes. Bow and touch your bowl to your head after receiving rice. Clean every speck of food from you bowls with a bit of water and a piece of kimchi. Put your chopsticks in the rice bowl to signal you are done. Pour the tea from rice to soup to vegetable to water bowl holy bucket to show that your bowls are clean. Don’t  be slow because people are waiting and cannot move on until everyone is ready. PHEEWWW. Did I even get anything to eat during all that? Hardly. But I did manage to put things in my rice bowl that did not belong there, burn my tongue on hot tea and eat with the communal vegetable chopsticks. Whoops. It all sounds like a silly dinning routine, but its purpose it to cultivate focus. And eventually I did get better and was able to actually get some food in my belly in the midst of it all.

Eating bowls

As for the actual meditation part; it was a roller coaster. Sometimes I was so frustrated I wanted just to burst into flames, other times I was sad or indifferent or confused. And then sometimes I was meditating. Until, I thought, “Yes, I’m doing it!” And then, of course, I brought myself right out of it. Regardless, I started to recognized the thought habits I have. Mine were centered around ego… I kept thinking about what other people were thinking of me sitting there and meditating. Which is really silly because of course they’re not thinking about me, there’re trying to meditate! But I realized that this translates into my daily life, when I’m on the bus, at the market, or just walking down the street. Since I’ve left I constantly try to reduce this habit of thinking — I am confused at where the bus station is so I ask. The heat is not working in my apartment so I knock on a neighbors door and attempt to explain my problem (can’t exactly speak Korean yet). Sounds simple, but in a country where I can’t speak the language, I am constantly worried about how to ask for help. But I also realized that it always turns out OK, better in fact to make a bit of a fool of myself than to suffer the frustration and anxiety of trying to do everything on my own. It’s an empowering thing.

There are many other valuable things I’ve taken from my stay at Mu Sang Sa Temple, most of which wouldn’t make sense if I tried to explain. It was an incredible journey.

My favorite view at from the Temple at Mu Sang Sa

A Thanksgiving Story: Korean children do not like squash cake

This week was a great one for me as I taught the kiddies all about Thanksgiving. They don’t celebrate it here of course, but have a similar holiday called Chuseok, in September, which celebrates the end of the harvest season and gives thanks to their ancestors. So, on Tuesday I taught my 1^st through 6^th graders about the Pilgrims, Indians and most importantly, turkey! After the history lesson we did reenactments of the first Thanksgiving. (Go to: http://ilovekorea.shutterfly.com/pictures to see the videos of my students!)

Personally, my favorite part was when the turkeys screamed, (or in the case of my 3^rd graders, pronounced very very slowly) “Gobble, gobble. Don’t eat me!” Proceeded by the Indians shooting them, bringing the turkeys to their death. Honestly, I’m not sure who enjoyed it more, the students or me.

The turkeys must die

Another memorable moment of this week was introducing the kids to pumpkin pie. After teaching them all about Thanksgiving Day foods, I held up a picture of pumpkin pie and asked them what it was called. The response from one of my 5^th graders was, “Squash cake!” Haha close enough I guess, although that sounds terribly unappetizing.  But it might as well have been, based on the disgusted reaction I got after feeding it to them. Priceless.

The aftermath of "squash cake"

There were a select few who graciously helped the others finish their share, but the common consensus was not a positive one. I did, however, manage to learn a new Korean word from the whole ordeal: madubso = not delicious.

As for me, I spent my Thanksgiving weekend with about 20 of my friends on the east coast of Korea, in Busan. One of them managed to organize a REAL Thanksgiving feast, which included turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and pie. All of which are quite hard to come by in this country. The gathering took place on a navy base, which apparently is one of the only places that could access the American imports needed for the meal. They even had Frank’s Red Hot Sauce, something I have missed and been unable to find since my arrival. The rest of the evening was filled with our typical shananagans at a foreigner bar that even had flip cup and beer pong. Korea has become really good at catering to foreigners.

11.11 빼빼로 (Peperro) Day!

This week we celebrated the made-up Korean holiday, Peperro Day. It is much like Valentine’s Day with all it’s commercialism, candy giving and emphasis on couples and love. But, on Peperro Day people exchange these little chocolate dipped cookie sticks called 빼빼로 (Peperro). The official holiday is on November 11 as the date represents the treat… IIII.

Display cases all over the country had elaborate baskets full of Peperro on display all week. And while it is mainly a romantic holiday, it is also a day for students to express their gratitude for their teachers… yay!

Throughout the day I received lots of 빼빼로 – in all flavors and sizes – from my students. It was another reminder of how much I love them, but also a sign of my success with them so far. When I started the job I was far outside my comfort zone and I simply had to take one day at a time and take small conquests when I could. As an ESL teacher, ever day really is a new challenge. I remember when I had my first day of truly successful classes and thought, “OK great. I did it. Now the students will be this well behaved from now on.” Not true. Everyday is different. It is like a puzzle, and that’s what keeps it interesting for me, unlike my previous co-op jobs in Corporate America. I am so far from the predictability of an office job as a teacher in Korea, and that is one of the reasons I love my life here.

To come back to the 빼빼로… I learned today that in the grand scheme of things, what I am doing is working. I am putting some of the puzzle pieces into place. Although everyday is not a win, in fact  some are complete failures, I am having a positive effect on my students. And now I have a shelf full of 빼빼로 to prove it.