Sleeping with the fan on

So, there are plenty of great things about Korea. First of all, the food. This places has, by far, the best food in the world. If you like spicy food, this place is heaven. And it's relatively cheap, too. Kimchi Chigea (kimchi stew), is usually about $3.50 per person and it's my favorite food and it's spicy enough to make me sweat every time.

The people are, by and large, pretty nice if you make the effort to be nice to them. They will try to talk to you if they think that they can. That's a benefit of being a foreigner ... the usual rules don't apply.

If someone doesn't like you, you usually know. You'll get the evil ajumma eye or something. This sounds like a bad thing, but it makes me feel like the people that I've talked to that I thought liked me really do. I think that people are pretty honest about their feelings ... and by honest I mean "in your face." Hahahah. It's cool, though.

My kids rule. I'm going to miss them more than anything when I leave. I like them all for one reason or another. I wish I could take some of them back with me.

And my friends are great. I don't have that many, but the people here that I talk to I really like. They are refreshing to talk to and they're all good people.

The soju is good, if you can stomach it. I think that very few people can actually deal with straight-up soju. Maybe a third of the Koreans and me can do it. And Maura, of course. But the flavored soju is slammin'. Lots of people like that, and with good reason.

So yesterday, the other foreign teacher, one of the students, and I were leaving the hagwon at the same time. An ajoshi runs over and presses the button to hold the door open and waits for his friend. No big deal (an ajumma would never think to wait for someone and the ajoshi knows this so he wouldn't press the button if an ajumma were there ... it's just not worth it). So, the other foreign teacher holds the door open for the two ajoshi. Remember that. Remember that it was the other foreign teacher that did this. He's a genuinely nice guy who is just trying to make his way in a place that's far far from his tiny hometown in Canada.

So the other ajoshi makes his way to the elevator and they both get on. As there are only two other adults there (the other teacher and me), one ajoshi looks at the other teacher and says "Thank you" (in English). To Patrick. Which makes sense. Patrick held the door for him.

Patrick, trying to be respectful to these guys and their language, says "Kenchanna". Which is the low form of "it's no big deal." Here's where it gets tricky. You only are supposed to use the low form to people that you are close to or to people that are younger than you. These guys are clearly older.

Patrick doesn't know this. He's been around for a year, but he doesn't know Korean grammar. He doesn't understand the intricacies of when you use what form of the verb. For example ... "kenchanniyo" is more polite, and "kenchan-sumnida" is formal.

So the guy looks at him with a smile and says "kenchan-sumnida", correcting Patrick but not explaining and Patrick doesn't get this. Then he leans over to our student (who is Korean) and, still with a smile, starts talking to her in Korean. I hear the words "foreigers" and "stupid monkeys."

I couldn't believe my ears. The guy, right in front of us, called us stupid monkeys. Our student is so embarrassed she doesn't say anything, as she knows that I speak Korean well enough to understand. Patrick has no idea what's going on, but he sees how embarrassed Marsha (the student) is. She's practically sweating.

The doors opened before it totally sunk in what just happened. Later, the words "neh, ku-ra-na woori yojachin-gu-duli-nun hanguk-saram-i-eh. Shinja yep-paw" drifted through my mind. Which basically means "that might be true, but we both have Korean girlfriends. And they're hot, too" (and it uses the low form, for added disrespect).

That would have started fisticuffs in the elevator. We have both been feeling a good bit of culture shock lately, so it might have been theraputic right up until we got deported.

Anyway, most of you don't know this, but one of my best friends in high school is an American Indian. I'm going to have to look him up and pay him a visit when I get home. I'll never understand exactly how he feels, but living here is giving me a better idea.

I think that people that haven't felt culture shock underestimate the effect that it has on your brain. Imagine getting dumped ... on your birthday ... which is also your anniversary ... on a cruise ... for someone else ... who works on the boat ... and you thought everything was going better than ever ... and everyone on the boat knows.

And they're out of beer.

I seriously check the prices of tickets everyday to New York ... Chicago ... fucking Singapore ... anywhere but here.

The Koreans that I know are both the best and the worst thing for me here. First of all, they're the only people that don't laugh at me and say "oh you speak Korean! Say something in Korean" when I speak Korean. I am going to ask SeokHyee how to say "if you say that again, I am seriously going to stab you with my fist." Also, they're the only ones that I can talk to. If I talk to the other foreign teacher, I can't tell him exactly what I'm thinking because he might tell the director of the school. I just want to get through this myself. I don't want help.

Also, they help me connect to Korea. I am learning bits and pieces of the culture from them. Actually, they are just reinforcing things that I already knew lots of times. They are also helping me with the language a lot, too. It's good, because those are both things that I need to understand ... both for me and for Yun Jung.

They're the worst thing, too. They remind me that Korea is a horribly repressed society in a twisted way. Getting so drunk that you puke at the bar and then your friends drag you out of the place into a taxi .... okay. Kissing your girlfriend on the cheek in public ... bad. Drinking outside of a convience store every night until everyone falls out of their chair ... not a social problem. Living with someone that's not your family and not your spouse ... first of the four horsemen from Revelations wins the Kentucky Derby.

I'm not saying that I have a problem with the drinking. Not at all. No one drinks and drives, it's part of the culture, and it's easy to get hangover medicine. I have a problem with all the things that Koreans have a problem with.

It's not like in the US, where some things are illegal that really shouldn't be illegal. Like weed. What's wrong with smoking with your friends, going home, and watching cartoons while eating some twinkies? Nothing. Seventy percent of the country doesn't really care, and those that do are too busy burning books to do anything about it. I was sad when the Dell dude got busted on the Lower East Side. That was just a shame.

But I digress. It bothers me that KOREANS have a problem with so many things ... yet ripping people off (there are no copyright laws here), blatant racism, and cronyism are rewarded. There are lots of things that are illegal, which is fine ... but they and may more things are LOOKED DOWN UPON by Koreans. It's a culture of abject conformity.

And I'm nothing if not a nonconformist.

Korea is possibly the worst place on Earth for me to be, and every Korean I talk to reinforces that.

A. Sometimes I take for granted common knowledge in Korea. Ajumma means, literally, "woman old enough to be married." Ajoshi means "man old enough to be married." It's more that that, though. Ajumma is a state of mind. When women cut their hair and curl it and start pushing and shoving a lot like a wild beast on the subway ... they are an ajumma. When a woman starts wearing a visor of a color and size that would give Darth Vader helmet envy ... they are an ajumma. When a woman gets together with her friends and talks so loud that the decibel level of their conversation rivals that of an above-ground nuclear test ... they are an ajumma.

Ajoshi are more laid back about their status. Actually, ajoshi isn't a terrible label. Ajoshi are usually pretty decent people that get together with their friends and get tanked after working a 14 hour day. They don't have time to be obnoxious.

Ajumma are quickly becoming my main source of stress in Korea. They walk three across on a street and don't move to let you pass. They push your ass out of the way to get to a seat on the subway. They get in the elevator and push "door close" so that they don't have to ride the elevator with you. They're the mothers that put their kid in YOUR class to learn English from YOU, but try to tell you how to teach.

I played basketball with a bunch of 12 year olds today. They were as bad as I am. There was a kid who was bothering me when I was in the park chatting with Yun Jung, and when the battery died on my laptop and we said goodbye (which takes 5 minutes sometimes), I said to the kid "wanna play some basketball" in Korean. He got happy and we shot around for while.

Then he wanted to drive to the basket. This kid came up to about my waist, so I let him get it over my head and steal it from me. More kids started to come over, and I think at one point it was 6-on-1. It was all in good fun, though. Several ajummas were watching from time to time and at one point an ajoshi joined in, too. It was a lot of fun.

The kids were from about ages 6-13, I would guess. It quickly degenerated into the basketball equivalent of trying to smash your friends' fingers with pool balls when you get tired of playing 9 ball. It was fun, and there were only one or two minor injuries and almost no blood.

Then I slept for the whole afternoon to make up for not sleeping on Friday night (and then going out again on Saturday) and I haven't been productive all day. I have been meaning to study, but I think I get my best studying done at the hagwon between classes. I'll have lots of time tomorrow to study.

So I'm in a park and there's a little kid who alternates between shooting basketball and bothering me to talk in English. I'm chatting with Yun Jung right now, but I think that when my laptop battery dies I will go shoot some basketball with him. He's cute. I would talk to him in Korean, but he adamantly refused to speak Korean to me. Only English. He says that he's 12, but that's Korean counting. In Western age, he would be 10.

The Vegetable trucks are very strange. They are trucks full of vegetables (duh) and they drive around selling the vegetables out of the back of the truck. That's not strange.

What is strange is that they all have speakers attached to their trucks and they play recordings of something while they're driving or parked. A little strange, but the strange part is that they all ... and I mean EVERY single one ... plays a recording that sounds like it is Communist propeganda in a Maoist concentration camp. It's spooky the first couple times you hear it.

But once you've been here for a few weeks, you just accept it as part of life. In fact, if I don't hear it from time to time it might be strange ... like not hearing street noise after living in New York and Seoul for the past couple years.

Koreans have a lot of drinking customs. The main one is that you don't pour your own drinks. When you see that someone's glass is empty, you pour them another drink. Also, you're not supposed to use just one hand when you pour. And the person receiving the drink is supposed to hold their glass while the drink is being poured.

If you pour someone's drink and you fill it almost to the top, that means that you are thinking about them or you think a lot of them. I wasn't able to tell which they were saying.

Bars don't close here, by the way. I went out with the other teachers on Friday night, and before I realized what time it was the sun was coming up. People were still there then.

Yesterday, I went to a bar with KiSook and SeokHee, and it was a much younger crowd. They had a DJ/MC during part of the night and he ran some sort of game. He used a lot of slang, so I couldn't understand anything he was saying. It was fun, though.

Anyway, drinking in Korea is much different than the US. It's a huge part of the culture here, though, so it's best to learn the rules and learn them well.

I've talked to some Korean friends, and it seems as if the national feeling might swing a bit more pro-American after the beheading. Koreans honestly didn't believe that it would happen. I guess that people from Philly probably knew that it would, since the lost two of their own already.

I understand that many Koreans wrote in to their goverment and media websites and demanded that combat troops be sent to Iraq.

Koreans are a very tight-knit group. In Korean, you refer to aquaintances as "brother" or "sister." Very old people are "grandmother" or "grandfather."

I'm writing this from the Seoul Plaza Hotel. There are "good korea" days and "bad korea" days. Today is a bad one. I forgot all my korean again and I hate it here. I almost left today, but Yun Jung will be here in about 3 weeks and I want to see her when she gets here.

Anyway, so I came out to see Katrina. We went to Outback Steakhouse and I ordered 1800cc of Hite beer for myself and some hot wings. It turns out that that's a whole pitcher, so I had a lot of work to do. That actually helped, because I could remember some Korean after that. We walked around Myeong Dong and went shopping and I could find out the prices of things. I tried to get discounts, but the stuff sucked and they wouldn't bargain so we didn't buy anything. One guy tried to throw in a cheesy teacup with some overpriced green tea, but it still wasn't worth it.

There are no good pictures from yesterday. I didn't bring my camera because it was raining. KiSook brought hers, but I think we got 4 pictures of us drunk in the teahouse and that's it. I don't think that they will be the best pictures to post here.

War dialing is the practice of going around with a wireless laptop and looking for unprotected wireless networks. I'm in a park in Mokdong and I've got the best internet access that I've had so far since I've been in Korea. Unfortunately, it's drizzling now and I think it's going to start raining harder soon.

So it rained all day today, and it was raining hard when KiSook and I left the tea shop feeling at least a little lit (the lemon soju is pretty strong here compared to at Temple). Whenever we went into a store, they gave you this plastic sleeve to put your umbrella in and you give it back to them when you leave. It startled me at first, but makes sense.

What didn't make sense was that people leave their umbrellas outside when they go into the art galleries and some of the stores and restaurants. After we did that a few times, I said to KiSook that I couldn't understand why our umbrellas didn't get stolen. In New York, they'd last approximately the same amount of time as Stephen Hawking would last in a sumo match.

That reminds me of one more thing. When I went to "Carrafour" (when you write it in Korean, it's "Carrapu" which sounds f**king hilarious to me) with Miss Lee, we got a shopping cart. The carts are all chained together and you need to put in 100 won to unlock a car. A hundred won ("peg won") is about a dime. No big deal. So we go shopping and take the cart back, and you get your 100 won back. WTF? I didn't understand at all, but it was my first full day in town so I guess I glossed over it.

But anyway, there is a typhoon heading into town tomorrow. I can't imagine that it will be the most positive experience of my life, but I bet that my clothes will all be clean on Monday and I'll have a headache from too much Korean TV.

I saw "Troy" today with KiSook. You can read my review of it at the Level. I'm not going to get into it again here suffice to say that it was one of the better movies I'd ever seen. I REALLY appreciate it when the fight scenes are choreographed by someone that at least knows a little bit about hand-to-hand combat and not by some dancer (fuck Van Damme). As an aside, some of the best fight scenes are from "Best of the Best". Some of the most entertaining scenes are from "Lethal Weapon 4" and "Star Wars I: Phantom Menace".

Anyway, we met in Insadong, which is downtown Seoul. It was pretty cool. The theater was built vertically, like the ones in New York, which I appreciated. After living in New York, I find suburban movie theaters to be a ridiculous waste of space, but the popcorn makes up for it. We left the theater and went to eat. We had to walk down several alleyways to get there. Some of them were tiny, narrow, winding things that made me happy to be in. Others were a little wider ... and cars would drive down them while people were walking. You would just move out of the way and the car would drive past and then you went back to what you were doing. It was no big deal.

We went to a traditional Korean place and had this "nok-cha" meal of some sort. "Nok-cha" is green tea. They brought out lettuce and tea leaves, and you cook the beef on the table in front of us (there is a grill built into the tables at Korean restaurants) and put it in the tea leaves and lettuce with some rice, maybe some hot pepper, and maybe some of this unidentifiable sauce and eat it. Oh, and you sit on the floor on a cushion and you can't wear shoes. I love these places.

Then we walked around for a while and checked out some art galleries (they are EVERYWHERE in Insadong) and then went to a tea house. We had some green tea and then noticed something on the menu ...

LEMON SOJU! One of my all-time favorite drinks. We got a bottle of it and pounded it. A big bottle, which would probably fill 2 sake carafes, cost 4000 won ... about $3.60-ish. We could have drank more, but KiSook had to go to a housewarming party in Sangil-dong, so we took off. The best Lemon Soju in the world is still from Temple on St. Mark's Place in Manhattan, though. I can't wait to go there when I get back. I'll have to go late late late at night so that we can hang out after they close and talk about Korea.

Korean history has a period where Korea was called the "Hermit Kingdom". For about 300-400 years, the magma of Korean culture and ideology had no external pollutants and was allowed time to solidify on its own. Add to this the fact that the dominant philosophy at the time was a neo-Confucian one (Confucianism is heavily weighted towards social heirarchy and respect for age and tradition) and you've got a recipe for a rigid culture that doesn't necessarily have to be able to function in the world at large.

Many Korean traditions are in jeopardy because South Korea has entered the world theater and is attempting to become a major participant ... for example, they lobbied extremely hard to host the 1988 Olympics and 2002 World Cup. Korean culture is not naturally flexible, so that is why it seems to break rather than bend. There is a huge generational gap here in Korea, and that is a symptom of this cultural break.

Contrast this to American culture, which has been developing for about 1/12th the time of Korean culture and has ALWAYS been subject to outside influences and cultures. American culture is extremely fluid and changes rapidly. There are always generational gaps in the United States, but they are not as severe and the older generation is still capable of responding to the newer generation's culture.

American (and most Western) history is more heavily influenced by violence and politicking, so strength and the appearance of strength are important on both a national and personal level. The violence of the culture also adds to this, so Americans in unfamiliar or uncertain circumstances will naturally assume a show of strength in order to discourage others from trying to take advantage of us. In Korean culture, promoting harmonious social relationships is far more important. This makes sense because that's all that they needed to worry about for a long time ... since they had China as a buffer state.

So, a lot of Western culture was forged in the fire of practicality, whereas Korean culture was allowed to bloom into an art in and of itself.

Whenever I am at the hagwon, I lose and forget things. I lose pencils and papers all the time, I forget to make photocopies for some of the kids, I make too many photocopies for the kids ... something. On Wednesday, SeokHyee and I decided that we were going to talk about "thoughts and feelings" today, so I spent an hour and a half looking up a long list of words that I wanted to start to study. I didn't have time yesterday to study much, so I took the list to the hagwon (I had 2 classes cancelled, so I had extra time) and studied a bit there.

Since I had it at the hagwon, of course I forgot it. So I know how to say maybe 4 words about thoughts and feelings and I'm supposed to meet in 90 minutes and I haven't eaten anything yet.

It's only at the hagwon that I lose things. I could take a circa 1950s Sherman Tank into the hagwon and I would lose it. I feel relatively certain that Saddam Hussein passed through my room with his WMD at the hagwon before the war in Iraq and that's why they're turning up in the Netherlands.

A number (zero) of people have asked me about the title of the blog. It is a reference to Fan Death. Koreans believe that if you sleep in an enclosed room with a fan on, you will die. They think it happens a couple of times every year. It probably has nothing to do with being in an un-airconditioned room in the middle of a summer heat wave.

Anyway, many Koreans really believe this.

The next order of business is to take a picture of one of the many vegetable trucks in my neighborhood. They will make for an entertaining entry.

So I woke up this morning and it was pouring. It's been raining for hours and I understand that it will rain pretty much for the next month or two. I bought an umbrella.

Also, the wireless network that I usually connect to from my apartment doesn't have internet access at the moment, so I'm in a PC Bang (PC room ... internet cafe ... they're about a buck an hour). I walked around my neighborhood looking for some dry areas to do some war dialing (when you sit somewhere and scan for open wireless networks with internet access). I found 1 spot so far and I'm going to see if I can scare up some internet access from there. Maybe it will be back up by the time I get home.

There's a thing called "service" in Korea. First of all, let's start off by saying that there's no tipping, which is quite a shock to me. I love to tip. I overtip all the time because I like to. But no tipping here. They'll get pissed at you in some places if you tip.

Anyway, service basically means free stuff for patrons who are regulars or who spend a lot there. I got a free liter bottle of coke yesterday when SeokHyi (my conversation partner here in Korea ... I help her with English and she helps me with Korean) and I went to the same place for lunch that we had gone the other day (when you show up somewhere and you're white, they remember you since there are only 80,000 nonKoreans in Seoul ... a city of 10,000,000). We were eating our Kimchi Cheege (my new favorite meal) and the owner came by and opened a big bottle of coke and poured us each a glass and then left the bottle there. "Ser-bee-su" he said, by way of explanation.

And tonight Patrick and I stopped by our favorite chicken and beer joint and ordered these chicken kabob-type things with this AMAZING sauce. We tried to order 2 orders of them (at 11,000 won each ... about $10), but they didn't believe that we'd eat 2 and so they gave us 1. We ate it in about 2 minutes and ordered the second. People got quiet when we did, because we were basically out-eating entire tablefuls of Koreans (it was fairly spicy, too). When it came, it had an extra couple of kabobs on it ... "serbeesu". We downed them, finished our beers, paid (we got a free beer, I believe ... either that or slightly-larger-than-pint mugs of beer are only 2,000 won), and left.

Last night, Katrina and I went to a Korean place near City Hall. The ajummas (ajumma = "woman old enough to be married") that work there only spoke Korean, and the menu was only in Korean, and we showed up in a party of 6 (all white people). They got mad at us at first, but I smoothed everything over by speaking in Korean to them. Once they got past the shock of a white person speaking Korean, they liked us more. They were really nice to us once everyone cleared out but Katrina and me and they kept saying "you are very pretty girl" to Katrina (in Korean) and "you have very pretty smile" (also in Korean). I told them that it was Katrina's birthday that day (which is the truth) and they nearly fell over themselves trying to ask how old she was and where she was from. Fortunately, I was able to tell them. I would be willing to put $100 down on the fact that if we show up again, they'll remember us and we'll get "serbeesu".

Patrick told me that he and some of his friends went to a fairly new bar in Suncheon, where they used to live. They were relatively nice to the owner and dropped a reasonable amount of coin, so the owner comes out of the back and gives them each a clock.

Service.

If I asked you "What would be a good time to start doing noisy, heavy construction in a residential area on a week day?" and you answered "why, 7:30am of course!" then you might be Korean.

This is from something I posted on a messageboard in response to a guy's request for ideas for his girlfriend's 30th birthday ... I suggested making sushi:

You need seaweed paper, rice, rice vinegar, wasabi (powder or paste), sushi roller, soy sauce (in a little dish), and sushi grade fish. Optional ingredients are vegetables. I used avacados and cucumber and some plums.

First make the rice. Wash it with your hands and then put it in a rice cooker. I've only ever cooked rice with a rice cooker. Put the rice in a pan and fold in the rice vinegar (some people add some sea salt and sugar to the rice vinegar ... I recommend this and plan to use a dash of sake, too, next time). Use about one tablespoon of vinegar per cup of rice. As you fold the rice, cool it with a hand fan in your other hand. This is supposed to help remove the moisture and make it shiny. Save some vinegar for later.

DON'T USE INSTANT RICE OR BROWN RICE. If you're going to make sushi, get Japanese rice from an asian market. Chinese rice is too long and American rice just doesn't clump right.

Put down a sheet of seaweed onto the roller and put some rice on the seaweed. Leave about a half inch on two opposite sides because you have to join them together. Don't put too much rice on because you have to roll it. Here's another secret ... dip your hands in the vinegar before you touch the rice, as it is VERY sticky. Keep this in mind for later, as you won't look your best with sticky rice in your hair.

Put A LITTLE wasabi paste down the middle of the rice with your finger (goes where the fish will go). If you put too much, her 30th birthday will certainly be memorable but it will be due to the trip to the emergency room when she starts to heave. Lay the fish down parallel to the sides that have the half inch space. I suggest that you add some different vegetables to this, too.

With the "inside ingredients", I would make some with just salmon, some with salmon and cucumber, some with salmon and avacado, and some with salmon and plum and avacoda. Get creative.

Roll the sushi and try to get the edges to overlap. Wet them by dabbing your wet finger along them to get them to stick. If they don't stick, put a few pieces of rice on them and use them like sticky tape.

Slice each roll into 4 or 6 pieces.

If you think you can eat 12 pieces, make like 36, because you will fark many of them up. It's cool. Just make way more than you think you'll need and save the rest for later.

Now, you should have some decent sushi. Here's the most important part ... get some small plates and ARRANGE THEM ATTRACTIVELY on the plates. If you need 3 or 4 plates, that's fine! Leave lots of space in between each roll, and make sure you put a dab of wasabi on the plate so she can add extra wasabi to the soy sauce. I try to get a nice mix of rolls on each plate, and I don't bring out all the different kinds on the first plate.

The mechanics of making sushi are actually pretty simple. The art comes in the right combination of fish and "other things". I actually hate fish and seaweed and sushi rice, but I LOVE making sushi.

Sometimes my younger kids are tough. There are a few who don't know much English at all. I have one girl (Sung Yun Park) who knows some words and that's about it. I try to get ideas across to her, but she only pics up words. I just got a new kid that is so young that he's only there for 2 classes. We worked on colors, but didn't get very far. I'm not sure WTF I'm going to do with him.

Then in the later classes, the kids are older. I have one class with two girls, Sarah and Marsha, who both spent time outside of Korea. Sarah lived in Phoenix, Arizona for 3 years and Marsha lived in New Zealand for 1 (you can her her Kiwi accent somethetimes and it's really adorable). It's a 2 hour speaking class, so we basically just hang out and talk. We take breaks and play games sometimes, but it doesn't require a lot of preparation. I've got one kid who lived in Australia for a year or two, and he's really into sports, so with him I just hang out and talk about things and try to relate it to the topic in the book. His listening ability is very good, but his pronunciation needs a bit of work. I let him use his electronic dictionary, since he's at a level where he can improve on his own. Last week, we talked about tailgating at sports events.

Before I go any further in my stories about Korea, I have to take a moment to mention my friend, Yun Jung, without whom I would be having the worst time. She and KiSook were roommates in New York for a while, and so I met all my friends here in Korea via Yun Jung in one way or another. She'll be here in Seoul sometime in July.

Here is a shot of her from New Year's Eve ... before I knew here. If this picture were taken after she met me, she'd have a beer in each:

... which is actually named "Seon Yu Do". My bad. I'm sure you're all upset by that little misnomer.

Here is me in the Bamboo forest area:



Here are KiSook and me in front of the geyser and in front of a little waterfall wall:




Here is all of us except for KiSook ...



And here is my only attempt to pick up a girl in Korea:

There are a couple phases of Culture Shock. First, you move to a new place and everything is new and exciting and you love it. You don't mind the bad things. Then, the second phase sets in and all of a sudden you realize that you are in a totally alien environment but that YOU are the alien. This is where you start to hate the culture that you are in more than anything in the world. Then you start to move back towards a middle ground, accepting the good and the bad of the new culture and ocillate back and forth a little bit until you either figure out your groove or assimilate.

I hit stage two a few days ago. I wanted to leave. I wanted nothing more than to be on the next flight to New York and never return to this country. But I'm hanging in there. I've been through this before (when I moved to college and again when I moved to New York) and I'll go through this again, I'm sure.

It feels like depression but without the paralysis. Imagine the worst job you ever had and then imagine that it lasted 24 hours a day. Then imagine that you had to go to work naked. That's about how culture shock feels in Korea. It's clear that you don't fit in. There are hundreds of rules people follow for what seems to be no apparent reason. The laws here are designed to make sure that you know that you are a foreigner. Fortunately, there are people here that will go out of their way to make you feel more comfortable if you at least make an effort to respect if not understand their way of doing things.

It started when I realized that I really can't communicate any ideas to anyone I know around here. Things seem to happen for no reason in Korea, and things that I expect to happen don't. When I try to speak to someone in Korean, my pronunciation is good enough that they understand me and they assume that I'm fluent ... so they speak at a normal speed. That doesn't help, since I can't understand them at that speed. It happened for the first time at a freakin' McDonalds of all places and I wanted to shake the guy and say "look at me ... do I fucking look like I speak Korean as well as you, you asshat?" But I didn't do that, mostly because I would have been deported within hours if I would have.

But it got better today. I met with Yun Jung's friend, KiSook, and her friend, SokWi, and talked to them. I was so far into culture shock when I met them that I couldn't remember any Korean and I was very frustrated, but Yun Jung insisted that I meet them for help with Korean. Ironically, the first thing I was able to get across to them in Korean was the symptoms of culture shock. I started to feel better when I was finally able to express an idea in Korean. By the time I left, I was feeling a lot better and my Korean had returned. I tested it out tonight when Patrick (the other foreign teacher that I work with ... he's Canadian) and I went out for chicken and beer and I ordered everything in Korean. I was also able to ask which dish was the spiciest and order that one.

So, I'm not out of it yet, but I don't hate Korea right now. It's tougher than I thought to do this. But I'm doing this for me and I'm doing this for Yun Jung and I'm doing this to be able to say "Do your worst, Korea. You might knock me down, but when I get back up know that I will hit back just as hard."

So, YeoYiDo is an island in the middle of the Han River, and it's become a park. It's gorgous. There are trees everywhere and a fish hatchery and some walking paths through the park. It looks like a popular area to go on dates, which makes sense, since it's Cheap As Free to get there. The girl in pink is KiSook's neice. She's adorable.




One thing I saw there was an adjumma (married woman) with her dog. I'd heard about this, but this was the first time I'd seen it. Basically, the dog gets shaved, and the parts that still have hair get their hair dyed blue.



And here's a shot of the Seoul Skyline from the park that I took on my way out:

The Han River is the main river in Korea. It runs through the middle of Seoul and is spanned by a number of bridges. You can take a boat ride around the river ... which is what I did on Saturday with KiSook (Yun Jung's friend), KiSook's sister (I think her name was June), KiSook's sister's daughter, and Young June, one of KiSook's friends. Let me start by saying that this was my first chance to eat Korean food in Korea, since my other foreign friends don't seem to be as into Korean food as I am.

The first thing you see when you get to the park that we went to is the geyser built to commemorate the 2002 World Cup. It is allegedly 202 meters high, but I'm not entirely sure that I believe that. There's an island (YeoYiDo, I guess you would call it) in the middle of the river and the geyser is everpresent there, so maybe it is close to 200 meters.



From the Han River, looking north:



Young June and me:



The 63 Building ... the tallest building in Seoul. It has 63 floors, although Koreans count the basements, too:



Here is the bridge from the riverside park to YeoYiDo:

There's an invisible line that you cross right when you get to my hagwon that seperates the polished front of Mokdong from what I imagine that it looked like years ago. First, two shots from the walk to the hagwon:



Now, once you get to the side of the street that the hagwon is on, this is what Seoul looks like:

First of all, here are a few pictures that I took from the hagwon today (a hagwon is a learning academy, in this case it's an English hagwon ... 영어 학원). The hagwon is on the 5th floor of a 5 story building and it seems to be on some sort of invisible border. If you head towards my apartment from there, you're on treelined, modern, peaceful streets that could exist in any city in the world. It looks like the Upper East Side but with more trees and more space. On the other side, it looks like your in Asia.



If you look closely in the background of this next image, you can see how Seoul sprawls up the side of the mountain. I'm not in New York any more.



It's crazy. I'm going to stroll through the alleys back there one day soon and take some pictures. It's crazy in a way that not even New York isn't crazy. I love it.

And here's something that I recommend you never drink. I got it because I thought it had a funny name, and it turns out it's got a funny taste, too. It's almost like the barley tea that you get in asian restaurants, but cold and nasty.