Pictures are up from last week's cross country meet!
Here they be, arrrrr!
Let's see...my Thanksgiving weekend was almost painfully uneventful. While I was bordering on wallowing in my own sorry state of...prolonged wallowing, Paul reminded me that I did, in fact, do several things this weekend. They include:
1) Going to Seoul. I caught Seoul's Biennale (more on Korean art later...), went to a few salsa clubs (despite the fact that I'm absolutely hopeless with anything more complicated than a two-step...), ate well, and slept even better.
2) Reading a book. That's always good for the old self esteem!
3) Running half of a marathon (as per my marathon training schedule).
4) Eating a lot of cereal and granola bars while watching sordid reality shows (hey, often they are the only thing that is on in English!).
Ok, so maybe the last one is the least impressive...
Keep bugging me until I write more, guys! I have news of river/sewers that flow from wretched to beautiful (both man-made states) and under buildings and through parkings garages, more computer generated art than your brain can handle, Korean hospitality, and of course, more installations of "wacky news from the lower half of the penninsula."
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
Are we running today?
I realized that one of the reasons I've been having trouble writing about my experiences in Korea is that I've been trying to do it while strategically slicing out everything related to the school where I work. That's a fatal flaw, because it means constructing a narrative void of, well, people. So, I can't remedy those omissions all at once, but I'll begin by writing about this weekend.
Ever since the second week of school (oh, wow, 12 weeks ago now...?) I've been coaching the cross-country team. I use coaching in a somewhat loose sense, because normally when athletes are being coached they have some sort of drive motivating a desire to work hard and improve, as well as a commitment to their teammates, their coaches, and their sport. This was, most of the time, not the case with my athletes.
Ok, so I'm selling some of my students short. There were a few notable exceptions, but for the most part getting my students to run four days a week (or even three, or two...) was worse than getting them do their own homework instead of copying a friend's answers.
"Miss W.B., are we running today?"
"Yes, we run every day."
You don't even want to know how many times I had this exchange...with the same student.
"Miss W.B., are we running today?"
"Why would we NOT run today?"
"Because it rained this morning."
"You are hopeless."
My students would walk whenever I was out of eyesight, then start running again as soon as they knew I could see them. They complained of sore ankles, sore muscles, sore skin, sore eyelids, who knows what else...
And yet, when race day rolled around...
We killed. Annihilated. Flattened. The other schools looked at us with simultaneous contempt and respect.
"You...practiced? How much?"
As if practicing was a form of cheating or something.
More about race weekend to come, but at least now you have (some of) the background.
Ever since the second week of school (oh, wow, 12 weeks ago now...?) I've been coaching the cross-country team. I use coaching in a somewhat loose sense, because normally when athletes are being coached they have some sort of drive motivating a desire to work hard and improve, as well as a commitment to their teammates, their coaches, and their sport. This was, most of the time, not the case with my athletes.
Ok, so I'm selling some of my students short. There were a few notable exceptions, but for the most part getting my students to run four days a week (or even three, or two...) was worse than getting them do their own homework instead of copying a friend's answers.
"Miss W.B., are we running today?"
"Yes, we run every day."
You don't even want to know how many times I had this exchange...with the same student.
"Miss W.B., are we running today?"
"Why would we NOT run today?"
"Because it rained this morning."
"You are hopeless."
My students would walk whenever I was out of eyesight, then start running again as soon as they knew I could see them. They complained of sore ankles, sore muscles, sore skin, sore eyelids, who knows what else...
And yet, when race day rolled around...
We killed. Annihilated. Flattened. The other schools looked at us with simultaneous contempt and respect.
"You...practiced? How much?"
As if practicing was a form of cheating or something.
More about race weekend to come, but at least now you have (some of) the background.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Korean SAT, Pepero Day, XC
Tomorrow is the Korean Collegiate Scholastic Aptitude Test. It is offered only one day a year.
Imagine that your admission to college was based solely on one test and all of your peers across the entire country are taking the test all at once. It's a huge huge huge deal. My Korean teacher (who also teaches at a public high school) said that she's very tired from cramming the students for the test, but after tomorrow, she doesn't have to teach any more classes.
During the test, planes all across Korea are not allowed to take off because the noise could potentially distract test-takers.
Two years ago, there was large cell-phone cheating scandal in Gwangju involving 100 students.
In lighter new, last Saturday was "Pepero Day." Ever had the Japanese candy Pocky? It's called Pepero in Korea. Pepero Day is Valentine's Day's little sister (er...one of them...there are several Valentine's Days in Korea). Everyone buys pepero, which range from small to ginormous (I even say a baguette dipped in chocolate and a two-foot long stuffed animal pepero) and gives them away to their friends. In Hapkido, we watched "The Transporter" for Pepero Day.
This weekend I'm going to Pohang (about a 5 hour drive East of Gwanju) for my school's one and only cross country meet. I hope they do well...
We leave Friday at noon at get back Saturday at 6 pm. I'll let you know how it goes.
Imagine that your admission to college was based solely on one test and all of your peers across the entire country are taking the test all at once. It's a huge huge huge deal. My Korean teacher (who also teaches at a public high school) said that she's very tired from cramming the students for the test, but after tomorrow, she doesn't have to teach any more classes.
During the test, planes all across Korea are not allowed to take off because the noise could potentially distract test-takers.
Two years ago, there was large cell-phone cheating scandal in Gwangju involving 100 students.
In lighter new, last Saturday was "Pepero Day." Ever had the Japanese candy Pocky? It's called Pepero in Korea. Pepero Day is Valentine's Day's little sister (er...one of them...there are several Valentine's Days in Korea). Everyone buys pepero, which range from small to ginormous (I even say a baguette dipped in chocolate and a two-foot long stuffed animal pepero) and gives them away to their friends. In Hapkido, we watched "The Transporter" for Pepero Day.
This weekend I'm going to Pohang (about a 5 hour drive East of Gwanju) for my school's one and only cross country meet. I hope they do well...
We leave Friday at noon at get back Saturday at 6 pm. I'll let you know how it goes.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Ho-shin-su
Today I learned the craziest move in hapkido. We practice three main things: palchagi, or kicks; nakpo, or rolls; and hoshinsu, or holds. Rather, I should correct myself, we practice methods of getting out of a hold or a punch. (Keep in mind I have to interpret all of the Korean...I really have no idea what my instructor ever says...)
The first "hoshinsu" methods I learned involved getting free from a wrist hold. Instead of pulling back, which makes it easier for someone to hold on to you, you push your wrist forward, releasing yourself. The next set of moves involved doing that and then elbowing your attacker in the stomach or neck.
The third set, which I learned today, consisted of kicking the person holding your wrist in the shin, grabbing a pressure point near his (or her) thumb, pulling his arm back, karate chopping the back of his elbow, pinning him to the ground, and bending his wrist backwards, and emitting a final lethal-sounding "eeeeeeeyah!" to prove your point.
I guess things get complicated fast around here...
Korean language lessons are the same way. We spent a month on the alphabet, then all of a sudden learnt about four grammatical forms in one hour.
It's like when you say "hello" to someone in Korean they start a rapid fire exchange...as if you must be fluent.
I like it.
The first "hoshinsu" methods I learned involved getting free from a wrist hold. Instead of pulling back, which makes it easier for someone to hold on to you, you push your wrist forward, releasing yourself. The next set of moves involved doing that and then elbowing your attacker in the stomach or neck.
The third set, which I learned today, consisted of kicking the person holding your wrist in the shin, grabbing a pressure point near his (or her) thumb, pulling his arm back, karate chopping the back of his elbow, pinning him to the ground, and bending his wrist backwards, and emitting a final lethal-sounding "eeeeeeeyah!" to prove your point.
I guess things get complicated fast around here...
Korean language lessons are the same way. We spent a month on the alphabet, then all of a sudden learnt about four grammatical forms in one hour.
It's like when you say "hello" to someone in Korean they start a rapid fire exchange...as if you must be fluent.
I like it.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
A not-much week...
It got cold literally over night here, so it's a good thing I dropped the cash for that new comforter!
(Eerrrrrr, my roommate Diana and I are still trying to figure out how to turn on the heat: after four weeks of Korean lessons we've only learned about ten words and being able to read the alphabet is useless if the words aren't in the dictionary...)
Cross-country seems to be going well as a few of my kids are actually displaying (gasp!) motivation and commitment. It's amazing! Too bad we only get two and a half weeks of full-on training. If for every five kids who stop and walk halfway through the practice I have one who tries, it warms my heart.
In hapkido today we had relay races! It made me think that being a PE teacher would actually be a pretty strobey job.
Sorry I don't have much to report. This week, although abnormally slow, has otherwise been mundane. All in the spirit of keeping my blogging up, though, I write anyway!
Someday soon I'll write about running through rice-fields in the dark by a full-moon...I get to do that nearly every day (well, except for the full-moon part, obviously).
(Eerrrrrr, my roommate Diana and I are still trying to figure out how to turn on the heat: after four weeks of Korean lessons we've only learned about ten words and being able to read the alphabet is useless if the words aren't in the dictionary...)
Cross-country seems to be going well as a few of my kids are actually displaying (gasp!) motivation and commitment. It's amazing! Too bad we only get two and a half weeks of full-on training. If for every five kids who stop and walk halfway through the practice I have one who tries, it warms my heart.
In hapkido today we had relay races! It made me think that being a PE teacher would actually be a pretty strobey job.
Sorry I don't have much to report. This week, although abnormally slow, has otherwise been mundane. All in the spirit of keeping my blogging up, though, I write anyway!
Someday soon I'll write about running through rice-fields in the dark by a full-moon...I get to do that nearly every day (well, except for the full-moon part, obviously).
Sunday, November 05, 2006
A day at the races
Today my body went through quite a roller-coaster of experiences. In the morning, I rounded out my first week of marathon training (er, first HALF week of marathon training is more accurate...) with a 10 mile run. I found one of Gwangju's rivers, and ran on a road that followed it until it was time to turn around. One side of the river was sprawling marshland covered in tall grasses going to see. The other side was a long string of farming plots tended by old men and women. There were many small lean-to huts in between the vegetable plots. On the other side of the rode were a few golfing driving ranges and several churches.
I also ran past a funeral home where a hearse with the back converted into a golden temple roof was parked.
As I was running back, a woman in jeans and a jean jacket started running next to me. Soon she fell back, but I could hear her continuing to run behind me.
This afternoon I went to the "Jimjirbang", or Korean bath-house/sauna. Upstairs I sweated away in various rooms. There was a salt room where the floor was covered in large salt crystals and the walls were made out of salt bricks, a coal room, an ice room complete with fake snow and a snowman, an earth room (my favorite), and a pine oven.
Next I got a much needed sports massage. After an hour of intense pain (sometimes the masseuse would literally hit and slap my muscles) my body felt, surprisingly, refreshed. We'll see how I feel tomorrow morning...I don't know whether the massage will end up producing head-to-toe bruises or alleviating muscle soreness.
Finally, I went downstairs to the baths. There was a Chinese medicine, an herb pool, and a Japanese wood pool. There were also cold and hot baths, as well as baths outside and baths with all sorts of massaging jets. A little girl latched on to me and followed me around. She gave me some pear juice and kept gesturing about my eyebrow ring.
Now I'm ready to take a looooong nap.
Perhaps I'll write more about jimjirbangs later. You could literally stay there forever if you wanted because they are open 24 hours, have places to sleep, and serve food.
I also ran past a funeral home where a hearse with the back converted into a golden temple roof was parked.
As I was running back, a woman in jeans and a jean jacket started running next to me. Soon she fell back, but I could hear her continuing to run behind me.
This afternoon I went to the "Jimjirbang", or Korean bath-house/sauna. Upstairs I sweated away in various rooms. There was a salt room where the floor was covered in large salt crystals and the walls were made out of salt bricks, a coal room, an ice room complete with fake snow and a snowman, an earth room (my favorite), and a pine oven.
Next I got a much needed sports massage. After an hour of intense pain (sometimes the masseuse would literally hit and slap my muscles) my body felt, surprisingly, refreshed. We'll see how I feel tomorrow morning...I don't know whether the massage will end up producing head-to-toe bruises or alleviating muscle soreness.
Finally, I went downstairs to the baths. There was a Chinese medicine, an herb pool, and a Japanese wood pool. There were also cold and hot baths, as well as baths outside and baths with all sorts of massaging jets. A little girl latched on to me and followed me around. She gave me some pear juice and kept gesturing about my eyebrow ring.
Now I'm ready to take a looooong nap.
Perhaps I'll write more about jimjirbangs later. You could literally stay there forever if you wanted because they are open 24 hours, have places to sleep, and serve food.
Friday, November 03, 2006
The Ilguk Hospital
One of the most prominent landmarks in Ilguk, the neighborhood three beverage factories (Coca-Cola, Chilsing Cider, and OB Blue) away from my own Yangsan-dong, is a hospital. Like Korean churches, every hospital is marked with a glowing neon cross; the ones adorning the hospitals are squat, symmetric, and green instead of red.
The residents of the Ilguk hospital are not hidden inside, but are allowed to wander (or, as is often the case, acquiesce) on sidewalks in front of the hospital. Patients in pale hospital gowns are interspersed with medical apparatus on the brick inlay. Some partients stare bleakly at the traffic and passers-by from their wheelchairs. Some nod their shaved heads at me as I walk by on my way to get groceries. Others are engrossed in their own IVs. Once, I saw a man in a hospital gown briskly crossing the street and heading for the nearby park, where he began speed-walking around and around on the concrete path.
The residents of the Ilguk hospital are not hidden inside, but are allowed to wander (or, as is often the case, acquiesce) on sidewalks in front of the hospital. Patients in pale hospital gowns are interspersed with medical apparatus on the brick inlay. Some partients stare bleakly at the traffic and passers-by from their wheelchairs. Some nod their shaved heads at me as I walk by on my way to get groceries. Others are engrossed in their own IVs. Once, I saw a man in a hospital gown briskly crossing the street and heading for the nearby park, where he began speed-walking around and around on the concrete path.
Home decorating in Korea
After shivering for several nights in a row (it didn't get below 70 until the last days of October!) I gave in and bought a new comforter. Errrrrr, and duvet. I couldn't help it. It was just so striped and...not pink!
It's shiny, but marvelous.
It's shiny, but marvelous.
Not quite
First off, I want to say sorry. Sorry for effectively dropping off the face of the Earth for the past few months.
I can't really begin to describe everything that has happened in my hiatus. (The difficulty of that should be self-evident.) Instead, I'll just do my best to write whatever comes into my mind.
It's no secret that I'm having a really hard time in Korea. Or rather...I'm having a really hard time with my job in Korea. There is inherent difficulty in teaching six classes (most of which don't have firm pre-constructed curriculums) to ESL students as a first year teacher. I know this. Yet I have still felt like a failure countless times. The stress of teaching is compounded by the fact that if I fail I'm not the one who suffers. I've had to pretty much set that thought aside, however.
There was a time when I bounced back and forth between asking myself why am I here (to work every waking of the day, rendering myself to tired to even realize that I'm not just at KFS I'm also in KOREA?) and beating myself up for not being a great teacher. Then I realized that I'm trying, and my teaching abilities will rise along with my morale and mental health.
All right, this boring saga has continued on long enough. I started taking hapkido (which, if you have been one of the fortunate few who have talked to me in the past month, has quickly become all I talk about--besides school, that is). I started taking Korean lessons. I made myself a very ambitious training schedule for the Hong Kong Marathon in March. Yes, it does sound like I'm trying my very hardest to burn myself out, but at least I feel like I'm using the opportunity I have to live in Asia:
I revel in feeling like the epitome of moronic as I contort my mouth and focus on tensing my throat while trying to pronounce Korean consonants and vowels. (All the talk about the refreshing logic of Hangul, the Korean writing system, is well founded, which offsets the fact that the phonetics confound me.)
I love getting a confused look on my face then trying to kick or roll in some position that my body will never acquiesce to in hapkido.
The marathon training has gotten off to a bit of a slower start due to its untimely coincidence with first quarter grading and a strained hamstring, but I'm still optimistic about that, too. Coaching the cross-country team, while aggravating, have given my legs some much needed beatings, too.
I didn't intend the tone of this belated post to be sullen; in truth, I'm finally starting to enjoy myself here in nearly all venues. Teaching is going better, I've come to really appreciate the friendship of some of the other teachers, I'm excited about hapkido, I've been reading great books, I've been exploring...but something is still missing, so I'm working on that.
Keep bugging me to update the blog, folks. The hardest part is stepping out the door.
I have a cell phone--er, "han-do p'hon" as it's known in Korean--now (and a regular phone, which I've always had...), so if you want to call me...
I can't really begin to describe everything that has happened in my hiatus. (The difficulty of that should be self-evident.) Instead, I'll just do my best to write whatever comes into my mind.
It's no secret that I'm having a really hard time in Korea. Or rather...I'm having a really hard time with my job in Korea. There is inherent difficulty in teaching six classes (most of which don't have firm pre-constructed curriculums) to ESL students as a first year teacher. I know this. Yet I have still felt like a failure countless times. The stress of teaching is compounded by the fact that if I fail I'm not the one who suffers. I've had to pretty much set that thought aside, however.
There was a time when I bounced back and forth between asking myself why am I here (to work every waking of the day, rendering myself to tired to even realize that I'm not just at KFS I'm also in KOREA?) and beating myself up for not being a great teacher. Then I realized that I'm trying, and my teaching abilities will rise along with my morale and mental health.
All right, this boring saga has continued on long enough. I started taking hapkido (which, if you have been one of the fortunate few who have talked to me in the past month, has quickly become all I talk about--besides school, that is). I started taking Korean lessons. I made myself a very ambitious training schedule for the Hong Kong Marathon in March. Yes, it does sound like I'm trying my very hardest to burn myself out, but at least I feel like I'm using the opportunity I have to live in Asia:
I revel in feeling like the epitome of moronic as I contort my mouth and focus on tensing my throat while trying to pronounce Korean consonants and vowels. (All the talk about the refreshing logic of Hangul, the Korean writing system, is well founded, which offsets the fact that the phonetics confound me.)
I love getting a confused look on my face then trying to kick or roll in some position that my body will never acquiesce to in hapkido.
The marathon training has gotten off to a bit of a slower start due to its untimely coincidence with first quarter grading and a strained hamstring, but I'm still optimistic about that, too. Coaching the cross-country team, while aggravating, have given my legs some much needed beatings, too.
I didn't intend the tone of this belated post to be sullen; in truth, I'm finally starting to enjoy myself here in nearly all venues. Teaching is going better, I've come to really appreciate the friendship of some of the other teachers, I'm excited about hapkido, I've been reading great books, I've been exploring...but something is still missing, so I'm working on that.
Keep bugging me to update the blog, folks. The hardest part is stepping out the door.
I have a cell phone--er, "han-do p'hon" as it's known in Korean--now (and a regular phone, which I've always had...), so if you want to call me...
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