The Tea House

Once there was a tea house snuggled deep within a city called Seoul. It was a charming place filled with exotic treasures, healing herbs and the most splendid, most delicate and most delightful array of birds. A colony of birds to be exact.

Well now, to be absolutely accurate, these birds weren't simply delightful nor simply splendid nor simply delicate and beautiful, these birds were extraordinary in the fact that they too, but much more than the tea leaves, had healing powers. Some could bring happiness to the hearts of all the people in the shop with a just a slight shiver of their feathers. Others could cure colds and such illnesses with their sing-song chirp. And yet others, the very, very, very special few could heal all wounds with the giving of their feathers.

To be logical, as most people are, the birds hide their extraordinariness, and have been for ten thousand years. This way they do not draw too much publicity, and neither are they over worked. Birds get tired too you know.

Because they have been around so long they have developed a specific code amongst themselves so as to not "blow their cover", as they say. Course, I don't know the code. I'm a people. They would never tell me. But I'd guess it'd be something along the lines of 1) no talking to people, 2) no showing off before peoples, and 3) keep your feet clean and be sure to land your droppings on the tree only!

Just a guess.

Anyways, among these enchanted birds lays a discovery like no other. A find that Indiana Jones and Lara Croft would kill, butcher and enslave for. The find of, well do you know? Hint: the same birds have lived as a colony all around the world for the past ten thousand years.

They have what the Christians called the aqua de vitae, what Herodotus mentioned briefly in his histories, and what Alexander the Great supposedly journeyed to the Land of Darkness for, the Fountain of Youth.

From A to Z, to all the in between. The birds chirped all the day to bring well-being.

The trees, the wood, the mountains and springs; the small candle light's hue shone on all happy things.

Decide to be in or out they say.

I'll decide what I decide darn it.

Hm, as always I'll stay.

Far and deep into the hollowed out room,

a secret kept quiet,

awaiting just the right tune.

For how many years have people thought it the tea?!

The tea, the tea. What more could there be?

Birds do not heal. I doubt birds can feel!

Look past the tea to the treasures below. Where have the been? I'd like to know.

Keep on your guard! The black tipped bird said.

You bite that bon-bon, I might raise you from dead!

The morning sun shone on the writing wall.

It said here is where I start.

I'll grant all your wishes if you give me a part.

Out the window there's death, in there's life.

The bird stared in confusion at his cousin in flight.

It's the tea! It's the tea! I say. Nothing much more.

If birds can be healers, then I am a door!

Twas a Korean Halloween, it really was.

I wrote awhile ago about preparing for a "Korean Halloween". It was a special after school party I put together for my "special students", aka those who had been determined "gifted students" by some random test done by the school before I came. They were actually tested on their science and math skills, then using those results were picked for special after school classes ranging from math and science to English and social studies. Why the same test is used for ranging subjects is quite beyond me, but my guess is it made sense to someone 'important' and therefore was implemented without question.

Anyways, my Halloween party went spectacularly well... I think. I had spent two weeks decorating the entire classroom with monsters, skeletons, hanging bats, spider webs, and let me not forget the mural of vibrant purple velvet, paper and gargantuan proportions of tape. Yes, I may have gone a 'little' overboard. But come now, this is my first year having an ACTUAL job. This is also my first year of legitimate influence on something other than a grade or what kind of toppings you want on your burrito. I also have ridiculous amounts of time to think about such things that make no difference to the world, but make the people immediately around me quite happy (I hope.) So, yeah, I went a little nuts-o. But the way I see it is that these kids have never had a Halloween party, and only have a limited idea of what Halloween really is. So, I guess I tried to realize that for them.

So after the decorating, I began to plan the party. First we watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas" the week before the party. I had them do a matching worksheet, and made it worth so many points. Then the day of the party, which was a special two and a half hour class time (rather than the usual fifty minutes), I had them break into groups for a contest of sorts. There were four stations. The first being Halloween mask making, in which they cut out their own scary face and colored it. Second was the grand traditional Halloween festivity of bobbing for apples. Next was Halloween decoration making, in which they cut out skeleton parts and but them together with safety pins. Lastly was the bean bag game of "Feed the Monster". I made a card board monster cut out for them to toss spiderweb balls into for points.

Then after the stations, we would all get together with fifth grade versus sixth grade... a grand battle. First was the game "Spiderweb", which consisted of each team undoing the spiderweb balls from the bean bag game as fast as they could. Inside the scotch tape balls was candy, a greater incentive than points to twelve year olds. Second we played "Mummify", a game using toilet paper to wrap up a peer the fastest and best. Then after that, prizes and Dirt Worm Sundays- you know, the ice cream, ground up Oreos with gummy worms fiasco? A bit crazy for forty young kids to all want ice cream at the same time, but it worked, sort of.

By sort of I mean this was all the plan. I had told my co-teach and the head teacher two weeks before about what I intended to do. I was so excited, so thrilled to get to have a party all designed by moi. And for Halloween, too! Ah, I was ecstatic. Then the week before the whole shindig- my co tells me she can't help with the party. She has to go on a "business trip". I say ahhh okay, Ms. Lee (our head teacher and other English teacher with me) can still be there right? Oh yes, of course was the reply. So I did not worry. Monday of Halloween week my head teacher informs me that she won't be showing up until three as she too has a business meeting. Hm. Okay. Now I do worry. As I said before, these kids aren't the cream of the crop for English. Math, science- okay. Not English. And now this week I have them for an hour alone. All thirty-seven of them. My mind raced.

Wednesday came and I decided to go with it. How terrible could it be? We still needed to finish the movie we started last week. That bought me forty minutes. But the crucial need for translation was well before my head teacher could show up. So what to do? They needed to really understand the 'stations' in order for organization to triumph over a mass of pre-teens. I tried.

The head teacher did not show up until three-twenty. I stood on a chair to gain attention and hopefully order. They listened a bit, but remained full of questions, each of which was the same as the next, yet none that they would all sit and be quiet for as a whole. I was truly on my last leg when Ms. Lee arrived. Chucking spiderweb balls across the room at Feed the Monster, 'More paper! More paper!' from the decoration station, "How? Ottokae?" from the mask makers and then "Shinchong plu! Shinchong plu! from my bobbing for apples crew. Ugh, I wanted to scream and walk out. I cursed all "business trips" and "shinchong plu" (aka swine flu). I cursed my school for leaving me with these kids. I cursed my stupidity, er gullibility, at having thought this party would go as planned. I of all people should know already that nothing in Korea goes as planned, not if you're the bottom feeder that is. (Meaning the two months I waited to finally get here. Not much caring on the part of my school.) So this should not have surprised me. We didn't even finish the stations, let alone the fifth vs. sixth grade games. We had to stay an extra half hour just to dish out the ice cream in an orderly fashion. Ugh, never again. A great experience for me, yeah, but never again. I had my party and I'll actually fondly remember it. As it was fun once I threw in the towel and let them rule me.

The next week, once my co teach could attend, we played the group games separately. They had fun, and I did too, with my co-teach my by side saving my butt with every Korean word.

Below are the pics of the events. From the classroom decor to the group games to my costume as "Kiki" from the Japanese animation film Kiki's Delivery Service. Please enjoy, as it was quite a lot in the making! ^^

Ah Minsu- always the ham.

The kid on the left is not so great of student, and as you can see not too thrilled about the activity whether fun or not. Have a theory that he's an old crabby man inside a twelve year old. So far my theory has yet to be disproved.

"I'm a mummy!!!!!"

The sixth grade.

The fifth grade results. I enjoyed the creativity of the second one in- with the roll on the head? Priceless.

Minsu again, terrible student, but funny kid - so 'hearta'.

Above the door of our classroom.

My work of art- tree and owl.

The mural. Had WAY too much fun making this!

Jjimjibang Reprise

If you don't remember it, I wrote a post last June or so about my first experience in the jjimjibang, the mother of all the saunas in the world. In this place there is no room for modesty or fear, there is only room for more and more naked, saggy women. They lounge about as if they were forgotten goddesses, their beauty finally catching up with their age though ambivalent to the entire process and thus fully and proudly exposed to the elements of the near boiling water and steamed and pressed air. They are fearless, they are Korean ajumas.

Also, if you don't remember it, I was too timid to bare myself. I ran to the bathroom, eyes glued to the floor, changed, and ran back. My eyes leaving the pink tiles only once to catch a glimpse of a rather aged body, I believe I compared it to a fruit dried too long in the sun? If not, that is the description I would give it now as now I have seen more than my share of saggy tushes to last a lifetime!

Yesterday, I went with my co-teacher and her friends to an animal shelter some two hours away. It was in the middle of the mountains, south of Suwon. A curvy ride and me on little sleep (again only two hours!), I was near retching when the vehicle stopped. However, getting out of the vehicle I heard the barks of 75 pouches all wanting love from me and group. I perked up for the next four hours as we petted, walked and played with the dogs and then kitties. (I now have a hundred new friends! Love puppy and kitty love ^^ NOT bunny.) Anyways, it was a pretty well spent day even though my ass was definitely still in bed in my head. I was happy with the concept of home with a bath and bed. But, as we all filed back into the vehicle, my co-teacher chirps a kind reminder to me that I had said a couple days prior that I would be willing to go to a jjimjibang. Ah! Thank you co-teach, I had almost thought I was in the clear, off foreign person duty and headed for the four walls I've grown to love.

It was another two hours to our jjimjibang of choice, the most famous one in Korea, known for its popularity during the Joseong Dynasty (some two hundred years prior.) Now, there stands a number of jjimjibangs, norae bangs (karaoke rooms), PC bangs and new subway line stop to bring it ever more popularity.

I napped in the car, or shall I say passed out? We finally arrived their at 7 PM, a time I would not have minded going to bed. But as it was, I was expected to be company, so company I was.

We walked into the jjimjibang, my mind floating between real time and my bed back home. As real time was about to get awkward, I was mainly in my bed already. I didn't even notice them pay or give me the key to my locker. I just followed like the good puppy I am, opening my locker for my shoes with the attention of a ferret. I followed in the line as we went into the women jjimjibang area through a number of doorways and corridors. I was about to continue following in my stupor until we actually crossed the threshold into the abyss of ajuma flesh.

Can I say that six months ago, when I first went to a jjimjibang, I was not prepared, I was still learning Korean culture and so definitely couldn't understand it thus look at it? I was simply ignorant, and kind of happy to be. I did not see myself stripping down with only a two foot towel to cover my extremities. I also did not see myself taking a shower and chatting with my neighbor borrowing their soap in passing.

Now, I can safely say that I am a changed person. I have to be, or else maybe I was just that tired and out of it to be utterly impartial to the whole experience. But in the hindsight I have of it, I was pretty darn okay with everything. I, with my co-teacher and her life long friends (a very, very, very close bond here!), casually got down to our nothings. Then we casually walked to the showers, past the ajumas staring ever so blatantly at the foreigner with their grandchildren sometimes pointing and saying 'waygook saram!' (foreign person!). Then we casually took a hot shower in an almost humorous line. Three long-haired, young, shapeless Korean women and a curvy, short-haired teenager looking foreigner with jewelry and a tattoo to top. I did not look, but I am certain that every person in that shower room (and it is a big room with many, many people) stole a glance or a stare nearly fifty times. I could see the turned heads out of the corners of my eyes and feel the heat of the ajuma mind on my back. I am actually quite glad I was so out of it, that situation sounds extremely awkward now that I type it!

A ten minute shower and a pink jjimjibang uniform later, we went into the common sleeping area dry and finally covered. From then on things went a tad better. We played Rummikub and I got my butt waxed. Then a Korean card game based on numbers (thus I could play- I actually am good at numbers in Korean!) though still got my butt waxed. I was quite awake and enjoying myself until one of the girls boyfriends bought us each a cheap beer called Max. It is just one of the terrible Korean beers, but I drank it out of politeness. Bad idea. When finished I was near sleep walking. It was now 10:30 at night, my adrenaline extinguished and my eyes dry from no sleep and two days of constant contact wearing. I passed out on the sad excuse for a sleeping pad, the plastic etching lines in my face with every minute of deeper and deeper sleep. Finally off to never land.

It was the next morning at 6 AM when my dreams of beds and pillows were interrupted by the poke of co-teacher saying, "Jenna, let's go!" Again, I was extremely exhausted, and could not figure out why we were getting up at 6 in the morning on a Sunday. I went back to my safe house of following the group. Into the women's area, to the locker and back to... low and behold the replayed casual shower of the previous night. This time though, my mind was a bit more alert as it had had a few more hours of sleep to rejuvenate itself. Thus, I glanced around, took in the scene and the actual shower and bath facilities. There were three separate bathing areas. Two in the middle of the room, the ceiling low. Their temperatures displayed on the columns framing them. There were a couple ajumas bathing, the early morning hours no doubt an unpopular time to take a hot bath with your friends. (The previous night there were near sixty women!) To the back left of the room there was another hotter bath, elevated to overlook the entire shower room. Perhaps where the queens went? To the back right were the sitting showers, the area to shave your legs or sponge bathe your friends and family; your choice! Then there was the corner I was in to the immediate right of the entrance. Six showers lined the wall in display form. So as when you turned towards the shower, your butt was exposed to the entire room, and vice versa when turned around. Meaning, there was no hiding. Thankfully, shiny metal made up the shower structure on the wall. A handy dandy mirror to see who was checking out your ass. I was able to catch a couple ajumas and frown at them for their immodest blatancy. (I realize I'm strange looking to them, but I think it should be made a universal code to not stare at people (especially strangers) when they are naked!)

This time I did not wait for my comrades, and ran out in five minutes. I was clothed and waiting patiently for ten minutes.

So, in sum of my jjimjibang experiences, I think I get a gold star for improved performance and a silver star for improved understanding (I was still a bit tweaked though ambivalent). I think I have if anything definitely segued into understanding the Korean way of life. The jjimjibang, as weird as it is for the Westerner, is not actually that weird. It was actually, in hindsight, rather comforting. Meaning, though gawked at like a zoo animal, I still felt strangely united. I felt like I was apart of something greater? Say humanity in its most basic form? Like a brotherhood, the experience was bonding and now everlasting. I will forever be friends with my co-teacher, and consequently her life-long friends. Perhaps it was a test? Maybe my co-teach and her friends have a gang, and I'm now a member? I think in some way that's correct. Except, I'm not just in their gang, I feel I've joined a bit to the Korean gang over all. Scary, I know. But I strangely understand them ever more so now that I've showered with them, as I have drank with them, and as I have slept on cement floors with them.

Conversely, I don't know if I could do this with my foreign friends. It's just a bit too much just yet. (Though, my best and life long friend Amy did actually go to a jjimjibang that was empty but for two ajumas a month ago. I don't really count that as real jjimjibang, as there were just four eyes on us, not 100!) We did okay because we are like sisters. And now, I guess we are certainly kin!

But this experience was the first and most impressing one I've had of the Korean jjimjibang. My co-teacher was the cherry on top of the hundreds of eyes! I cannot regret it as I've learned more about Korea in those ten minutes than I have in the past seven months! I can't explain the bond that was created. I can feel it. I can remember it. Yet, I feel this blog is non-explanatory. I guess, though my eyes burned a little with the sag of ajuma extremities and my conscience questioning my place in the Korean world, my heart conversely felt more humane than ever. The jjimjibang reprise was thus, in my burning eyes, a great and too long put-off experience.

The spare time

Being an English Teacher does not allow much free time during the day. I am usually running around after my co trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing, or teaching. So, when I get home and have the much needed free time I sort of become helter skelter. I can't decide what I actually want to do but know I must do something. So I start to pick up activity after activity in hopes of feeling like my time has not been wasted. Thus far this week I've read 400 pages, done two chalk drawings, a 1000 piece puzzle and watched five movies. Not to mention studying Korean, French and my TESOL online coursework off and on between activities. Whew!

So, today I stopped and tried to look at my last week through an objective lens. Meaning, I tried to ask myself if I was wasting my own time? What is wasting time? I'm in a foreign country, I should be seeing IT, right? Not losing myself in pointless activities? I began to wonder why I do do this. What five step cycle am I on that I need to lose myself? I'm still not certain, but the one that rang a bell was the five stages of grieving! Yes! Of grieving. I believe I'm on the denial step, and have been for quite awhile. But first, why am I grieving? What is lost to me? Hm... no not the old man and Mary again. This is something different. Could it be? I don't want to write it, but I think it might be... homesickness?

EEK! I did not want to concede to that horrid word, but it's the only explanation I can come up with. The things I fill my time with are actually trying to fill that dangerous part in my brain that longs for home and for things familiar. I do puzzles because I imagine sitting on my comfy sofa at home, kid movie on and card table filled with a beautiful array of chaos that I alone need to piece together. I study because it reminds me of the fun I had in college, staring at page after page of information, three cups of coffee in my gullet and the only reassurance being the end of finals in two months. Why do I miss these things? What more were they to me than merely time fillers? Than delays to a grand finish?

Ah, there it is. The grand finish. The human need for closure to everything! The need to know that with life comes death, that with activity comes rest and with a goal there comes a red ribboned fini. That is undoubtedly what I'm coping with right now as with this job, and well, with the real world there is no REAL grand finish, except for the one that pushes up daisies. (Yet, that finish is one I think about all too regularly, and is actually WHY I'm so determined to use all my time for life. That is the way I've always lived, a hedonist and flake. I trample about the world trying my best to get the most out of it before my fire is gone. But that's another blog.) Anyways, the grand fini I'm longing for, like college and my puzzles, is no longer quite as tangible as it used to be. I can't make out the red ribbon in this job as a teacher. Heck- everyday is a marathon, and I'm usually very glad to make it through it. When all is over I am lost again, because I can't find another marathon? Is that it?

I must say, living abroad with nothing familiar, I am all too often questioning life. Sometimes a good thing, especially for writers and artistic types who need that time for their own worlds and developments of them. But I'm not always artsy, I'm sometimes philosophical. And for philosophical, it's quite difficult to juggle the real world with the one in their head.

Course, just as with the moon, philosophical is just the waning phase. It will pass and I'll be back to artsy self, or maybe logically inclined towards learning Korean, or maybe adventurous for mountains. I think people eclipse too, and maybe that's where I'm at. Coming back to where I was in the beginning of all this, back to the homesickness.

I guess with this blog I'm more or less trying to get my bearings again, accept my denial and hope it moves on like the ghost in the attic. I can only hope! Though, I should say that with this questioning, I have felt more and more like writing and creating. Both good things, and well worth the hours of worrying if my time is pointless. I do create still, trying all the while to fill my creations with the best of truth about me and about the world.

The pictures below are what some of the consequences of my spare time. I thought I'd share them as it seems quite selfish to not.

This is a chalk drawing of five gifts I've been given over the past year from five different and wonderful people I've gotten to either know or learn from. The leaf in the wind is based on a leaf necklace my close Native American friend gave me for my birthday. He taught me how to be a free spirit, i.e. to be myself. The Buddha originated from a small Buddha statue my good hippie friend gave me before I left for Korea. She kindly reminded me to love everything and accept everything, thus to be open hearted. The flower in flames is from a flower shell jewelry box my friend I met here brought back from the Philippines for me. She has reminded me that friends are everywhere and that beauty is in everything from fire to flowers. The pink bell was a gift from a girl I had the pleasure of meeting in Japan. She taught me to not be scared of what is new and different, and to be open to learning, always! And lastly, the green kitty was from my uncle who lives in Alaska. He taught me to be happy with the beauty of life, not scared of it.

This is was just a comment on the situation in America. If you can't tell, I used newspaper as a base. I ripped up headlines that struck me as either sad or manipulating or hateful and then juxtaposed them to make the outline of America. Its been bothering me that all that's in the news is pessimism, especially when it comes to America. There seems to never be any pax, nor hope of one. (The flack Obama's getting for not having immediate answers is kind of what I was probing at.) So what I wanted to show was that the situation is never as bad as it seems. That there has to be a better tomorrow, because it just has to be. I'm extremely idealist, so this drawing reflects that. I understand others don't feel the same, but this is how I feel. I like hope, and I like color. I want the gay ban in the military to be demolished, and for them to be able to be married in every state. Thus the colorful rainbow expressing the unity of the sexes, the races, the old, young, what's nature and even what isn't. And mostly, how things begin with fire and end with flowers. It is my version of hope.

I did this last summer. It was to comment on the position of women in Korea, and on where I felt myself sliding into. Women here are viewed as objects still, and as you may have noticed, I most definitely do not think anyone is an object, let alone myself just because I happen to be a female. Yet, I still cannot stop myself from wanting to put make-up on everyday, and cute clothes. To wear fun jewelry and too look cute. I was trying to make out whether I wanted these things because Korean society (and American society for that matter- these younger girls, gah!) wanted me to look that way or because I actually wanted it. I've finally come to terms with the fact that I like to reflect my personality, which just happens to fit the social episteme... for the time being. The bolts and blood are of course comments on the social creation of Frankensteins, women who have no self-expression in themselves outside their choice of pink or purple. They seem driven by what society thinks of them because its easier? It is very difficult to branch out of the box here (as I stated in my earlier blog), thus they're happy to be Frankensteins? I'm still confused, and probably will always be. For now I'm simply happy know I've still got some individualism left... for now, again.

The old man and Mary

Last Saturday my friends and I had a "going away" get-together for our dear Korean comrade, Chris. He is a Korean-American, his parents immigrants to Florida, but his grandmother and extended family still living in Seoul. Not sure if it's his mix of cultures, but he is one the goofier Koreans I've met. It was sad to see him depart, but I suppose that's what we're doing here, coming and going.

Every fall and spring there are waves of us foreigners entering Korea. Some in search of adventure, others in search of culture, some in need of change and still the few in search of love. Whatever the reason, they come in hoards.

Ironically, and however much they try to break the barrier, most foreigners tend to stick together; a non-military band of brothers so to say. Thus, their reasons for pursuing a life abroad can be quickly forgotten once loneliness has set in and their need for familiarity overcomes them.

Don't misunderstand me, I think it is purdanent for foreigners to group together. It's a basic human need. And that's what my group of friends has offered me. I am thankful for them, just as I think they are thankful for me. The one problem, however far off, is that of the 'going'. We all come, we bond, but then just as soon as we get comfortable we need to leave. Writing this I feel reminded of Mary Poppins and the crazy man who laughs and laughs so much that he is stuck floating in the rafters. The more the better and eventually they have a tea party of laughter and good times. Yet, just as soon as the party has started it's ended. People have to go home.

That is the reminder my friend Chris has given me. It's not as depressing as I've just made it sound. It's just a fact. A fact I've come to realize and will need to over and over again throughout this next year. Of course, in a way it makes me sad to think about departures, but in another way it makes me cherish their current presence ever more.

I am very happy to have met Chris, but he has said he'll come back in January. The other crew members have all signed up for another year, as have I. So I'm obviously jumping the gun with this blog. I guess I just wanted to write this as a reminder for myself in these next months. I'm quite excited to go home, but with these friends here, there is a life here for me, some roots for me.

The other day I was staring at the map in my classroom, trying to envision the space that divided me from home. Six months ago that gap felt as far as it is, six thousand and some miles of earth, water and sea. Now it's something different, something smaller. I felt the hold of the earth on my feet for the first time in Korea. I felt the roots of the life I'm making here, and admittedly it scared me. I did not expect myself to find such exceedingly amazing people a half a world away. They have become my roots here, and they are growing stronger, larger. I'm afraid for them to break off in the next year, but know just as with people I've met back home, that the breaks are never permanent. In fact, I don't think I could call them breaks at all. They are more like stretching limbs. It may hurt at first, but eventually the pain dulls to a soft yearning to be closer. It's not forever, so you endure it, you suffer in hope with a consolation of love. And I think that's the point of meeting new and amazing people. It's a race of endurance, a test of will. Either open yourself to the possibility of loving them and someday being without them, or never give yourself the chance to feel love nor its eventual absence.

As a great writer (I forget who) said: It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

This brings me back to my Mary Poppins example. If you can not tell, I loved the movie and even as a child read too much into it. I saw Mary as a prude and a show-off. I didn't like that she thought she was perfect, nor did I like that she seemed throw fits when things didn't go her way. In a way she reminded me more of a child than the old man laughing on the ceiling. Mary seemed to meet people then use them or teach them, but never learn from them herself. She seemed closed.

Through the old man I saw joy and laughter that can only be felt when still young and ignorant or when old and wise. He was near buddhist in the way he looked at the world. Everything is one and one is everything. He was happy when he felt happy, and was sad when he felt sad. There was no focus on perfection of appearance or formalities between people. He let the world touch his heart and thereby feel its repercussions, whatever they might be.

I'd like to think I've learned to be a bit of both. Mary can help protect me from the crazies, and the old man can help me to embrace the new and live in the now. Funnily, I can look at the departures of friends with the same lukewarm disposition Mary and the old man create when together. I'm sad, but accepting. Whatever happens, happens. I will always love my life here, and the people. Just the same as I regard home and my good 'ole' friends, I will miss them, remember them, long for them and hope to return to their presence with the consolation of love.

A Korean Halloween?

Today I was given the chance to introduce one of my favorite holidays, that being Halloween naturally! I have always loved the holiday and have always, always, always dressed-up for it! So, my chance to actually introduce it to eager, open ears was all too exciting! (For a weirdo like me, at least.) Oh, and to make it all the better, the class was third grade! They are ridiculously adorable, and hold way too much power over me... Such as I'd give them my kidney if they asked me. Their tiny Korean eyes all glistening with anticipation, their miniature fingers clinging on to their chair backs as they turn to eye me, they kick their legs as they try to listen to Jenna Teacher explain the great American life. I'm such a sucker, and wasted so much time answering their questions. But hey- you'd have to be heartless to refuse!

I began by asking them if they knew what big holiday was in the month of October. I whispered "Halloween" with cupped hands, and a few of the better students perked up and shouted a high pitched, "HALLOWEEN!". "AH!!" the rest went. Many had heard of it, but only a couple knew what the whole shebang was about. So, I mentioned trick or treat, and mimed how kids knock on doors then ask for candy. (They know "candy".... go figure!) To my surprise, they had heard of 'trick-or-treat', which I thought was quite a long phrase for their eight year old brains. Yet, they chirped that too as I hopped around asking for candy.

Then, oh then, I got to discuss Halloween dress-up! Yay! My favorite part! They liked it too as I explained what 'dress-up' meant. "Costume!" "Yes, yes, costume! Very good!" (That girl had gone to English summer camp, where we had had a lesson on international holidays. And she's just so amazing that she remembered!) "Can you name any popular Halloween costumes?" Hm... I begin to make Oooooooo.... sounds and wave my hands in the air like a crazy spook. They begin to catch on and scream the Korean for ghost. I have no clue what they're saying, but my co steps in and graciously translates for me! Lol, yep, not for the kids, for me! I then say "yes! That's right! A ghost!" Then I begin to cackle from deep within my lungs, and take on the look of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction... eyes bugged, huge evil smile and hunched heaving shoulders. The students all scream the Korean for witch, and again my co translates. We go on and on like this for five minutes. We mastered Frankenstein, in which I channeled the oaf's slow, rigidly grotesque walk, then vampire as I pretended to bite a student, then mummy and zombie and monster. We filled the blackboard with Halloween characters... and filled my thoughts with ideas for the big event... muah hahahahahahaha!

In two weeks time the final day will come when all will heed to my, Jenna Teacher's will. My students must, I repeat, must follow my every instruction and do as I command! They must first make masks to cover those hideous human faces. Then, they must traverse the horrifying maze of a classroom to compete in a life or death bean bag show down. Whoever has the most points gets to chose the sacrifice! After that we have another competition, only it is more bloody! More gory! Each group must prepare their butt-wiping paper and wrap it around the sacrifice. If it is not adequate mummy wrapping, they lose! GAME OVER. Muahhahaha. Finally, for those who are still living, a worm and dirt filled sunday must be consumed. If not, swift and inglorious death! These are the words and vows of the great Jenna Teacher. Ye be prepared for her will! Muahahahahaha!

And... then we watch Goosebumps and rejoice in Jenna teacher's ominous power to be completely ridiculous. I can hardly wait! Once I have pictures from the party, I'll gladly post them... so that you can see the terrifying display as well. ^^ I should say, the party is not for another two weeks, yet I'm too elated to hold it in! I've been decorating the classroom all week. (And I have to say, it is looking pretty sweet and creepy!) So, until the final, apocalyptic day... happy tricking.... muahahahahaha I love Halloween :D

The Box

If there is one thing I can pass on to others about Korea, it is most definitely the idea of "The Box", a concept not made of paper nor plastic, nor is it technically intangible either. I cannot even claim its existence outside my own rendering of it. But, to me, it is my imagined Korea. And in that, I claim its intangible tangibility. The Box could be made out of the box like peninsula that literally IS Korea. Or, The Box could be made out of its square, writing system that no doubt resembles an obsession with structure in every aspect of life. I think the box is those things, but I also think it is more. I think The Box is their mind set, their episteme. It is the way they view the world and their lives in it. From fashion, to technology, to work and even play, they are consumed by the idea of The Box. Let me explain...

If it ain't in a box, don't touch it.

The Korean world of The Box:

It seems that Koreans are in a growth spurt. They were propelled into the twenty-first century globalizing world with only a thirty year history as a first world country. Thus, they HAVE everything of a first-world country and then some. But, the problem for them now is their culture. Unlike European countries, or America, Korea cannot assume other cultures in the blink of an eye. It is desperately still trying to hold on to its past in the face of globalization. It is finding it difficult to do so, and therefore is in a conundrum at present. Do they A) hold to their history as the 'hermit kingdom' and push out foreign competition? OR do they B) accept globalization and assimilate into the world vision, a cluster-fuck of world cultures, each single culture self-important but seen as nothing different by its peers. (Hence, lost among the many, unless a competitor in the rat race.) Korea has to choose between the two, but is prolonging their decision, and has been for the past thirty years. They attempt to join in the world economy and politics, but find themselves belittled all too quickly. They then shy away and tuck back into themselves. However, on other economic fronts they are completely merged; such as foreign franchises in Korea like McDonalds, Starbucks, Outback Steakhouse, Paris Baguette, Baskin Robbins, Books Libro, Holly's Coffee and etc., or Korean franchises outside Korea such as the Lotte conglomerate, the largest in Korea with exports to all Asian countries and the added USA, of course.

There is naturally a place for Korea in the world market, but the problem is the effects of that market on Korea. In other words, Korea has already chosen a side in the conundrum, and is now dealing with those effects. The younger generation is embracing gladly embracing the influx of fashion and technology, the excessive spending and focus on individualism, the everything that is America. Many who cling to this lifestyle move out of Korea or find their small niche in Seoul somewhere. Opposite the embracers are the old-schoolers, the creators of The Box, i.e. their view of how life as a Korean should be.

The old-schoolers see Korea as a dying culture if it embraces too much globalization. They are correct in this theory, Korean culture will die if they do not find a way to preserve it. But they not only preserve it, but live it, push for it, cling to it with their tiny Korean hands. They love their culture, which is great. They should be proud of it, it is extremely unique in its box-like qualities, and so is very intriguing to free-spirits like myself. I'm fascinated by the way the old-schoolers take an hour to prepare for a ten minute meeting (because they had to make sure it was structured perfectly... in the box). Or the way they all dress the same, from the same stores, in the same way, all in an attempt to 'fit in' with everybody else, yet still thinking all the while that they're really buying the clothes to be personally beautiful, and therefore 'stick out' among the rest. They don't. Even the most beautiful Korean women can blend into a crowd of short ballerina skirts and tucked-in T's, long hair with cropped bangs and high heels. If not dolled up like that, they are dressed like boys, in plaid button-ups, jeans and Chucks; sometimes a baseball cap is added as an accessory or to cover a bad hair day (not that they have those with their beautiful straight black locks). When in the boy style, I mistake them for just that, boys. Thus, their individuality here is not really individuality. Its more like a self-image in the round. They take on fashion as it comes as a group, and God help the lame ass who does not follow the flock.

I should say that this same group of old-schoolers accept the new, obviously. They look to fashion and technology for assistance just as the youngin's do. But, the overarching difference is their purpose. This group does not branch out farther than what is in front of them, nor from what has been told them since they were young; and that is to be Korean. When all is said and done, this group will still take an hour to plan a ten minute meeting. They will still not allow you into the theater for a minute to claim the jacket you left in the seats- though it will take them fifteen minutes to find someone to take over their ticket post, then another ten to find the jacket itself in the myriad of seat cushions. They do not understand anything outside The Box that is bureaucracy, that is culture, that is Korea.

Another of my friends calls The Box, Korean Logic. I concur, it is their logic that is skewed. They think that things must be done in a certain way for them to be adequately done. But their logic is their culture, its their history. They've been taught to think like this from birth. Always worrying about what others are thinking, and therefore afraid to step outside the box is not just their logic, it is their culture. They find themselves in a spinning cycle of fear, suppression, and depression, because they are always worried about their place in society and society's view of them. And thus, it is my theory that their box is the cause of their excessive suicide rate. They don't make it into the right college: kill thyself. They don't get the right job: kill thyself. They "lose face": kill thyself. Once the poor pussy boys finally have to join the army in their twenties, they cannot deal with The Box shrinkage, thus: kill thyself. (So many suicides in the Korean Army, makes me glad to not be a Korean male.)

It IS sad that their are so many Korean suicides, and I do not mean to make light of it. Yet, as a foreigner, I cannot help but be in awe at the way they view life, and how easy it is for them to want to kill themselves. I think I've ran in the opposite direction ever since I got here, making me freer than oxygen, and forcedly happy to be alive. To see people living in mental and social constraints like those that are in Korea, makes it a obligation for me or any foreigner to be happy just for the sake of being happy, because we can. We do not have to follow the culture, society or The Box. We can break barriers because we are expected to. In that I'm ever grateful to Korea for the eye-opening experience it has given me. It's people have been all too kind to me, and its structure all too sharing (in that it's given me a job, apartment and life to be happy in.) In all I have a great debt to the Korean Box. I have never been happier to know there is a definite box to break out of? Perhaps I am just a spunky anarchist at heart, but I think that may just be Korea's effect on the open-minded individual. Either your follow or you don't.

And as for my statement above: "If it ain't in the box, don't touch it." I think it explains itself, but in a simple segue to Korean culture: if it is not Korean and if it doesn't fit into Korean culture, then it has no place anywhere near it. I'm just lucky to 'fit in' it now. Yet, once all of Korea knows English, I'll be out and Korea will rule the world. Er... ahem, Korea will be a globalized power.

Okay- hope this was an adequate description of The Box. I find it extremely interesting, but still have yet to really pin-point it. What matters is that I know it exists, and in that I'll be happy... just to push it of course. Maybe in another year I'll have a better grasp!

Yours,

Weary Traveller

My school and kids

Thus far in my blogging I have covered many an adventure, but yet to have explained one major area in my Korean life. The one area being my school, my co-teacher and my kids! I have not written about them because I am perhaps so used to living with them that I've easily digressed into taking them for granted? Or maybe I've gotten tired of talking about them? Probably a bit of both, but more so the former as I love them dearly! They are my gargantuan rock in midst of the chaos that is Korea! The school itself and the other teachers are very sweet and shy. Some teachers hide from me because they're scared to speak English. Others are much more eager to practice their conversation skills and confront me whenever they get the chance. One might think this would be awkward or annoying, having to always speak in short, blunt sentences and talk about the weather. On the contrary, I have a great time with it and actually like talking with the pigeon English more than regular! (Though some breaks are needed! Sometimes desperately!) My co-teacher, Jin-hee, has greatly excelled at her English since I first arrived, and thus saves me from too much chopped up conversation with her translation. And, she not only saves me from awkwardness but facilitates nearly everything I do for school. Things such as paperwork and meetings elude me for I can neither write Korean nor understand it spoken. I couldn't even fill in a bubble worksheet on Korean vocabulary let alone do packet after packet of paperwork! This is where my shining, silvery panted co-teach rushes in with her sword-like pen waving valiantly. I duck and cover while she cleans out the unwanted scruff around me, much like a mother bird cares for her young? I know nothing of what happens until its all over, and I'm free to flit and fly around quite carelessly. I hop about the room saying my hellos to everyone and everything, then rush back to my nice nest of a cubicle to hide for a few hours. Honestly, I could not ask for a better job nor a better co-teach! No paperwork and a cool chick to see movies with? Talk about Korean guys with? Kill countless hours doing nothing at work with? I either was Ghandi in my past life, or I am terribly in debt to the universe because that is just my awesome co-teacher! I have not even mentioned the kids!

The kids are in one word: FANTASTIC. When I first arrived, I could not deny that I fell in love with their cute smiles and shy hellos. But now? Now it's grown into this all-encompassing, never-forgetting, happy rays of sunshine, love. Love everyday! They meet me in the hallways and chirp "Hello!!!" "Nice to meet you!" everyday and every time they see me. Meaning, they could have seen me a minute prior and still would scream "Hello!!!!" again just because they can. They're firstly entertained by their ability to communicate with a foreigner, but secondly (and I'm completely full of myself) they love me! :) And that love is, if not more so, reciprocated. We have class and I love them. We eat lunch and I love them. We meet on the street outside of school and I love them. They radiate all that is good in the world, and I'm the lucky bastard who gets to feel that everyday, all day.

Now, after having realized my luck and after having put it in perspective, I have taken on an entirely new outlook of where I want my life to be and to go. I don't think I can ever go back to school after this, that is most certain. I also don't think I could live in the states, or at least for that long (except for Alaska- I could vacation there!). But, like a person who has become used to steak and cake for dinner every night, I have grown accustomed to innocence and love, to silliness and energy. I could never again deny myself such happiness that I know exists within children and within myself. I am ruined, and damn happy to be. It's figuring out where to go from here, if I do go somewhere at all.

I've definitely decided to stay another year. There is no question in that. I may just stay for a third year as well, but that might be jumping the gun. I have given some thought to the Peace Corps, and have started to fill the application twice now. I think that if I could get an international teaching certificate, I could join their ranks with some know-how and help where is needed. I'd love to meet kids from other countries and to once again make a difference in another life. I'd love to travel more. I'd love to make it all career somehow. But this is where I lose focus and teeter on the edge of my future. I've never liked planning far ahead, and if anything I'm a spontaneous flake. Yet, I'd like to think my goals have narrowed, that I've grown up a bit and that I have more of a future planned now than I did six months ago. In fact, I'm certain of these improvements, and perhaps I'm also certain that I'll never grow up, nor settle down, nor ever truly be goal-oriented. Gah- the mind of an expat can be so confusing! The possibilities within one life are nearly infinite, just never really thought about because there is no time. I have too much time and therefore am rambling.

Anyways (best word in the dictionary), one thing is a fact: my kids, my co-teach and my school are some of the best things that have ever happened to me. I love them and I love Korea because they're in it. Below are some pics of us on an outing for summer English camp, and if I can find them- some pics of me teaching! Enjoy :D

My Korean co-teach with some of our lovelies at the entrance to Caribbean Bay (like the Dells).

Cute kids! ^^ This girl is so kind, though I need to help her more with her English!

Happy boys~ going swimming soon!!!

These two. Oh my! Their expressionless, ice cream sucking faces was just too priceless. They reminded me of the creepy twins in the movie, The Great Outdoors. Just a little less creepy, and a bit funny :)

The two cutie-clingons of summer camp. AKA Jenna's Groupies.

Soldier boy. I always solute my kids because a) the teacher yells at them so much that I make fun of their "station" as er..soldiers, and b) my dad taught me right!

Goofing around during summer camp. The dude putting bunny ears on me is actually not a kid, but a fellow English teacher that was hired as an extra for camp. I'd like to think we're all twelve here.

Line up soldiers! Knees high! Straighten those lines! What are you? Chinese?! ... This is our P.E. day a couple of months ago, but still can't get over their army-like routine.

Gifts from the students for Teacher's Day! Some wrote me letters, too. The younger ones writing Korean, but the older kids able to make a very sweet English version! So proud!!

More on the Alaskan journey...

This cute guy was my Alaskan boyfriend. I liked his britches.
One of the tour buses for Denali Park. Mom is walking back to our room to retrieve some things. Our room's window is right behind the bus. -Also, I think that if you didn't know it, this pic looks like it could have been taken forty years ago. Kind of shows how time has stood still in the great outdoors.
Mystic scene of Denali. This was taken from the bus window at the end of our tour. The fog had settled for the last couple hours of the journey.  Kind of a bugger not to see far, but also kind of foreboding. 
Pop gone fishin'. Just practicing casting here. 
The great fisherman's catch for the day. He was mighty perty!
The weirdest area of our journey. Random abandoned igloo stop. Perfect scene for a terrible horror flick. I'm thinking Saw X meets Urban Legend Redux. 
Ma, Pop and Alton in the beautiful Alaskan wilderness. Could not get over how beautiful the sky was. The perfect cerulean blue behind marshmallow clouds. Trees in every direction. And family close by. Honestly, there is nothing closer to perfection.
Hang glider enjoying the great weather. I was quite jealous of his juxtaposition!  Though, my place on the mountain was just as scenic, and perhaps a tad safer :)
One of the many beautiful flowers around our lodge. Couldn't stop myself from being the classic fool~ trying to capture the beauty of nature with a lens!
What is this monster? No, not Nessy's sister but perhaps a long lost relative. Was one of the many whales we saw on our AMAZING cruise!
The trains a changin'. Ma and Pa are on the one in the background. Alton and I played catch up with them for a while. Then I got on board a couple of stops down the road. Quite a neat experience, even if a bit pricey. 
Adventurers! Louis and Clark here are on the look out for wildlife. Just one of our many stops along to and from Denali National Park. 
Sunset on the last night. Another perfect sky for another perfect day.
Taken on the train ride. Amazingly turned out! Was going a tad fast for my poor camera, but this one stuck. I think it's another one that's historically passable.
What more to say other than perfection? I love nature (if you couldn't tell) and could not stop myself from yearning to stay and take in everything!  I think I shall have to go back someday, for I know of no other place with such untouched, pristine beauty. I was only there for a week, and quite quickly realized how amazing a place Alaska was, how much it has to offer.  It's mountain streams, beautiful flowers, ineffable scenery and the like is just its facade. It's just the backdrop for the mind to grow from. Like the simple friend you never tire of, Alaska welcomes the traveler with open arms and says "Here I am, enjoy life with me."  With a greeting such as that, it's difficult for any soul to say no, even the wild ones, the crazies and the heathens.  Anyone can enjoy themselves in Alaska if they only let go of stress first. Only if they open their arms as wide as the mountain's girth does the traveler truly take in his journey and thereby be taken in by the journey itself.  That is what Alaska offers, and that is why I loved it so.  

Alaska is also the last muse of writers like Emerson, London and Tolstoy, men I admire and feel kin to.  I couldn't help myself from dreaming of my own little cabin on the lake, away from all that is busy, with my own little desk and picture window overlooking the panorama. In a way, mocking my idols, but also finding innovation in their favorite muse. There I could write my stories about lands that never existed and of people I've met or dreamt up. I could dream about the loves that have changed little in the way of history, yet ones that were momentous all the same.  I could then take walks along the shore and think up plots and characters.  Reading my favorite books and baking chocolate chip cookies when I'm bored. Yikes, I'm such a romantic. But Alaska brings that out in people, or at least me. It's odd but I felt more at home there than anywhere I have ever travelled. I hope to someday have that cabin, but for now my memories and hopes of return will suffice.  Though I feel certain in saying that you may visit me at my cabin. Just send me a note through the post. :)  

Trip to AK with the rents

Here are some pics from my recent journey to Alaska with my parents. It was a beautiful trip (as you will see) but right now I can't remember any specific stories. We just hung out and talked, surrounded by gorgeous mountain views and cool fresh air.  Who needs Hawaii for relaxation? 

This here is Mt. McKinley. She was quite bold the first day, but shied away from us on our actual tour through Denali National Park. I guess we were very lucky just to see her at all! 
Mom enjoying the beautiful glacier view and mystic mountains. 
Roadtrippin' tended to be our "thing". We drove sooo much. Kind of nice after not being in open space for a long time. Plus, we got to "see" Alaska- the good and the bad.
The black bear we saw take a poop!  This is him after he got out of the ice cold water.
Beautiful scenery- thanks to Alton for showing us this!
The crew climbing down the ski hill we went up to by cable car. Last day of the journey.
Dad with moose antlers in Denali National Park. He killed the moose first- with his bare hands.
Mom smelling the flowers. Just takin' time :)
Moose with baby!  This was taken through the binoculars. - Kind of cool I think.
The crew on the cruise ship. Lookin pretty happy with their day!