Only, it wasn't a dream

So, after I break my foot falling out of the bathroom in the "special nore bang" on the "special step" that magically appears when you expect to put your foot on ground, I ate a live prawn and took another step toward being Irezumi Ona before we ventured to the psychadelic rock festival in the woods where paintings express eternal love and oneness with everything while Sato Yukie rocks out with his fox tailed bandmates and the next morning walk down a mountainside farmer's trail to a bus stop near flower beds, and am picked up by a friendly japanese man on the way...it's too bad my friend broke something in the back seat...and then we went to the minbak in the valley and I played H-O-R-S-E, but we stopped at H-O-R and I was winning.

We went to the train station and on the way I left my friend on the side of the road but we found each other at the train station and I didn't know where I was going and couldn't move because my legs wouldn't work and I cried and wanted to be alone, but it was too late, I wasn't alone anymore.

After a week of silence, I got on a train and then took an elevator to the 37th floor. There was an empty apartment and a tiny dog who scratched at my astro-turf green cast and begged to be held. I held her.

Soon after, I chopstick-picked up octopus tentacles with the suckers still suckering to the plate, then they suckered to my teeth and tounge, but it was nothing compared to the wriggling prawn-legs of the past, so I liked it and ate another. We went to FUZZY NAVEL and watched a lady make BLUE SKY and set them on fire. 2 cups were drained with straws while alcohol burned blue flame. We decided to sit outside and a man came to disturb our peace so my friend broke a potted plant over his head and I asked him for my bag back and then we went and hid out at the gangster's house until we were sure we wouldn't have to slip out of the city unnoticed. After dawn, we were sure we were fine except for my friend's maybe broken hand and slept for a few hours before getting back on the train to the quiet town.

I spent another week speaking slowly and then went to the city where I could speak quickly and a REGGAE PERM was performed, but not on my head. On my head were 6 eyes and feathers, and I hopped to reggae music, and misplaced an umbrella cane before singing lullabies with my voice multiplied. In the morning I was back in the place where I speak slowly but communicate.

and I called a friend.

It seems like it was dreaming, but I'm not asleep, and it wasn't a dream. It was a run-on sentence.

PROOF

A Letter

Dear X,

I wish I could say I've been writing letters to you during my time away. That would be romantic. But I haven't. I haven't been logging my daily adventures to share with you at a later date, and yes, after nearly 9 months, the adventures are still daily.
I have climbed in mountian mists to later fall in the rain and see frogs at the mountaintop. Jirisan* feels like mothering arms according to any Korean. Weeks of teaching through the golden hour are capped by hikes and train rides. Posing in Seoul Station with a grand piano, my protests pushed aside, "But, Mr. Hong-o-Bong, I DON'T PLAY PIANO" went hand in hand with shouts of "This is PHILADELPHIA! ACTION! ACTION!" subway rides and pigeons in a Temple's Main Hall. And phone calls. "CANDIDA! THIS is Mr. HONGOBONG! HONGOBONG! MR. HONGOBONG! I have Great Idea for you!" phone calls, in which my name has gradually morphed: PAGAN! PAGANICAN! PELICAN! I have GREAT IDEA for YOU!

Opposite weekends on the opposite side of the country are spent in taxis, at japanese resturaunts, and on mountainsides. There is a tiny dog, Yoko, who digs in my hair when she can't find my face, and her owner, who is wonderful. I gave my first tattoo. It's an eye. It floats between a dragonhead and a cloud. Completely sober, he dropped his pants on the street to show it to a friend. "Candida! It's okay! It's only me."

Back home, I have become a regular at the makkoli place, where I go mostly for the 두부 김치 (tofu with kimchi) and company. It seems that they smile at 3 or 4, get nervous at 5 or 6, and stressed at 7 or 8 of us waegooks communaly bemoaning our fate at landing in Gimcheon. Bemoaning isn't quite accurate. It is delightful in many ways. My Busan friend delights in calling me a "Country Girl".

I'm not sure how much time is left here. It was requested that I stay another month. At the time I was unsure. As of late, I am prone to accept the offer. We'll see. Waves of friend-sickness still hit hard. I have dreams of drinking coffee and playing cards on my grandmother's porch with her and my mother in the afternoon. We'll see.

I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you are.
xo

Candida


*Jirisan = Jiri Mountain

One Month to the Day

What's the news? well, let me think...

- Paik Nam June Gallery in Yonggi-do provides a revitalizing music/art experience. Bulgasari at Yogiga Gallery in Hongdae, Seoul, sustains the revival for an extra day.
- Costco pesto makes me sick and quesadillas are all I eat for a week after a visit to Seoul.

- A new crowd of foreigners move into Gimcheon and we invade the Bowling Alley for an evening meet'n'greet.

- Buddha's birthday rolls around and with it come colorful lanterns, free bibimbap from temple volunteers, and a stroll through lovely Jikji-sa.
- Books arrive from the states and are devoured by me.
- The refrigerator noise continues to grow louder by the night.
- A bicycle some might have considered semi-abandoned is stolen. (I didn't consider it abandoned. I thought it could take care of itself.)
- I join a gym and flail around to K-pop with very coordinated middle aged women.

- A long weekend leads to the loss of several important items and a trip to Busan, a port city on the southeast coast of the Korean peninsula.
- The daily evaluation of pros and cons of breaking contract and leaving early begins to get pretty weighty in the pro-go column.
- A return trip to Busan, a search and rescue attempt on my foreigner ID, is a failure in one respect and a total win in the "random adventure" category.

THE RANDOM ADVENTURE (in short)

After failing to obtain my ID from the hotel I'm sure I left it at, I go to the beach for people watching and evening sun. I also happen to find 3 Korean rasta-reggaes spinning records on the walkway. I seat myself near them to observe and listen...a kitemaker is showcasing his wares with a tiny dot in the sky.

- I befriend the reggaes
- I am offered a new phone in exchange for English lessons. Let's call it "gangster phone"
- I go hiking with and am dubbed girlfriend by a tattoo artist and his friends.
- I have an interesting night out with Koreans...kind of the first time for a Korean night-on-the-town.

BACK TO REALITY...

- I give my boss a month's notice...she asks for two.
- I consider taking back the notice and staying for the duration of my contract after a major issue to be dealt with turns out to be virtually unsolvable, regardless of the country I'm in.

That brings us up to date. Basically. Stay? Go? Any input? Lately I've been feeling that my life is a series of short stories that have no common link aside from the fact that I'm a central character. Korea has pushed these stories further into the realm of surreality than I'd forseen. Someday, Someday maybe you'll read them.

Spring Sprang Sprung

Day 208

Jikji spring. Yellow bushes line the walks, pink spots on rocks, cherry blossoms have fallen. They are replaced by picnickers on the lovely spring day.

Post morning, A visit to the campus of Gimcheon College provides the sight of a miserable monkey family in a 20 foot jungle-gym cage. Papa's a little aggro, but who can blame him? Next up on the sad sights tour is the Deer Pen. 4 deer lay in the shade of sheds within their 30 foot cage. The trees are sheathed in metal...perhaps to prevent antler sharpening by the raging buck? Who knows. Handstand practice happens near the pond while Myeong Hee ponders the present.

On an afternoon walk through town, I meet 5 new foreigners and am accompanied by another. Gimcheon has recently become home to... 12 new people? Perhaps more. This occurance has changed my outlook for the spring. A positive outlook requires less determination than it has in the past month.

During dinner, I am surprised by arms around my waist and turn to discover an ajuma covering my bared back with an apron. Perhaps a longer shirt would've prevented this, but it was certainly entertaining.

Home to special tea and scrabble. Recalling the sweetness in tiny bites of lilac as a child, I collect some from the bush outside. The flowers change from...well, lilac, to pale gray. The taste is faintly bitter. I add rosemary to create a rather medicinal tasting nightcap.

Day 207

Walking from home to the station. Riding from the station to the station. Walking from the station to class. This all happens.

Walking from class to the subway. Riding from the stop to the terminal. Riding from the terminal to the temple. This also happens.

Walking from the bus stop to temple site. Hearing massive chanting. Seeing chains of lotus lanterns. Walking 108 steps up. Seeing masses of people walking a maze while carrying replicas of the woodblocks housed at Haeinsa on their heads. This happens.



Wandering. Being invited into line. Having my arm taken by a woman whose mastery of English rivals my mastery of Korean. Walking past the Tripitaka Koreana. Peeking through slatted windows large enough to call walls. Accepting a plastic replica of a woodblock from youthful monks. Supressing a laugh as monks supress looks of surprise. This all happens.

Walking the maze single file. Completing and exiting the maze. Being guided to the temple cafeteria. Walking arm in arm to the parking lot. Getting in the couple's car, which happens to be a taxi. Riding in the taxi from temple to town. Subway to station. Station to station. This finally happens.

Finally back in Gimcheon 14 hours later, I meet up with a woman who has recently arrived. The night is filled with cathartic chatting first at one Hof with brick pattern wallpaper, then at another with walls that could've passed for a High School locker door.

. . . and on, and on . . .

Day 197

Flashback to Christmas Eve: I'm sitting at a table with kimchi pancakes, moccoli (traditional rice wine) I don't need to drink, and a co-worker, and a friend. We've already had more soju than I anticipated and I'm not too excited about the moccoli. I excuse myself to go stand outside for fresh air, and when I come back, there is a red-faced man in a shiny pin-striped suit, smiling, nodding, smelling strongly of cologne, and pouring moccoli into my bowl.
"I saw you and, you know, I just want to speak Eng-uh-lish with you, you know? Is that okay, I blah will blah not blah take blah a blah hint..."
Young Mi and I exchange "who the hell is this guy??" looks, and simultaneously raise eyebrows at Ted, who has invited him to sit down, assuming that the man knew Young Mi. He stays with us for quite a while. I think of him as "Bluster Man"

Flash forward three months: shiny pin-striped suit man Bluster Man is sitting at the desk across from me. He is the new teacher at the Hagwon. Now we will be talking alllll the time.


Day 200

After Korean class in Daegu, I invite my friend to the Kitty Cafe. With a fennec fox in the window, grown cats lazing about, and siamese kittens playing 'round our feet, we sip banana shakes and eat lunch.

Follow this with hunting for strange parks filled with cherry blossoms, wandering the herbal medicine market on a slow day to find stuffed fanged deer cousins in windows near an albino mongoose fighting an albino snake, and there's my day, basically.





Plus the fox thing in glasses...


and a very convincing rice-cake octopus.


In the evening, another friend serves as my guide on the bus to the University district. We meander the campus amid blossoming trees of varying sorts, and sit at a park bench. It's amazing how familiar the smell of the Student Union cafeteria is. We finally complete a full circle of the campus. The final building we pass is called "Useful Building". It is spelled in a brick pattern on the side.

Day 201

I spend much of the afternoon harvesting wild mugwort from the bank of a lake outside of town. The sun is out, and a kind breeze keeps us insect-free. There aren't many, but I've noticed that they're coming. Oh, they're coming.

This week's reading has been (in order of appearance): The Red Dragon, The Exorcist, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Not my first choices. In fact, I've been avoiding reading the first two all year, but my options in English literature are severely limited. Donations of the published kind are happily accepted.

CONTINUED...

...Hiro notices people starting to climb the stairs and line up at the bell pagoda. He looks at Hideki and I before giggling again and skipping away to sprint up the stairs. We follow shortly...
We climb the stairs and watch the stage-crowd for a while. We are freezing. As part of two (soon to be three) shivering rows of people, we are surrounded by a unified chanting. Midnight is drawing near. For maybe five to ten minutes, the chanting continues and then the countdown begins. Stage lights flash a new color every second as we count down from "SHIP" to "GONG!!!"

Fireworks flash!!! CONFETTI!!! STREAMERS!!! Simultaneously, the huge bell is struck with a log swung by important monks and local politicians (they take turns giving the bell 13 strikes), AND a serious loudspeaker system blasts a triumphal symphony, to announce the New Year's arrival. We are all one year older.

As quickly as the burst of energy erupts, it is dispersed into the fresh New Year air. The die-hards among the crowd are atop the stairs and I find myself being hearded with them toward the entrance to the bell's housing. Military men are barking at the crowd and push/pulling them through the roped-off entrance eight at a time.

I feel a particularly sharp elbow from one side and hear a faint continued chant on the other. I look behind me to see a group of 4 feet tall grannies chatting trying to make their way to the gate. I attempt to shield them from the elbows and shoving as we are pushed ever-closer to the Seokguram Bell. It occurs to me at this point that I have lost sight of Hiro and Hideki.

As I am realizing this, I also realize that I am at the front. The grannies shove past me and are through the entrance. Hideki is shrugging at me as he walks out, and the soldier herding the crowd looks at me and says "OKAY?? YOU UNDERSTAND???" I nod and follow the women to the mini-battering-ram which serves as a bell striker. Together we strike the bell , now singing without symphonic accompaniment and are rushed away. Bewildered, I scan the crowd for my scarf, and finding it, weave my way out of the crowd.

The three of us seek the shelter of Seokguram Grotto. In order to reach it, we must follow the lantern-lit path. Snow and the dusty path are underfoot and muffled, cheerful groups make their way up the mountainside.
Reaching the top, I cross paths with the grannies again. One performing her bows while another prepares to do so. She is caught in her backpack and I help her out of the tangle. Seokguram, I must say, is magnificent. Wholly beautiful. We stay inside the statue's housing for a time, then head out into the dark. I want to stay. I want to descent to a warm tent and stay until sunrise.

My resolve to do so is strong. Then I look over at Hiro. Shoulders hunched, he hops from loafer to loafer, his bare hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looks back at me and grins. Hideki cocks his head to one side and asks "Are you going to stay until sunrise?" I smile and nod. He and Hiro exchange a quick, surprised, pained look. "Really?" I understand then that they consider it their duty to stay as well. I suggest going to the warming tents. Walking in to one automatically puts us in line for warm bowls of ddukguuk which we accept and eat standing near as possible to the heater. Another 20 minutes later, we head down the mountain and return to the Hostel.

Library Time
Two days later I am in the Gimcheon Library for a 5 hour study session. I discover that that is the thing to do in Gimcheon. There are rooms, previously unknown to me, filled to capacity with studious youth.

At Gimcheon Mac-chang
An orange vendor, an ommuk/fish bread man, and a foreigner walk into a Hof.
The orange vendor says something and the forigner hears: "waeoirjawe;lajsdf;lkdseyo?"
the foreigner nods and says something and the orange vendor hears: "asl;kerja;oiewjr ;kasdflkjdsa?" The ommuk/fish bread man nods and glances up to make sure the crowd at his cart is putting money in his "be right back" box before he pours a healthy round of soju.

Soon the three are laughing with the owner and his wife. Everyone hears "sal;kja;oihedf; seyo? ANNEEYO! eego eego aljdsf;jas;a!!!" and they all laugh again and again. The orange vendor finally puts down his glass and looks at the foreigner's bike to ask if it will be ridden home. The forigner shakes her head emphatically. "nowaeflkasfwalkdafjofjbikeaskdfjjajang!!"

She tilts her head from side to side and lightly stomps her feet to let them know she'll be walking. This brings another round of laughter and "walaslkjhas; anneyonhigesayo anneyonheegaseyo!!!" Goodnight goodnight and I hope your headache tomorrow isn't too terrible.

In the meantime

Soon, soon, I shall return to the linked system I call Computerland. For now, I am enjoying the time, spending more of it outside, drawing, trying to care for the plants I have neglected to near-death. Here are what you have to look forward to in the future post of my past few weeks...

"special coffee" and plastic cake

solo SSAM BAP in the knick-knack room

3 days in Gyeongju

Candida, the Midnight bell ringer

Library time

Soju and samgyapsal with the orange vendor and his friend, the pastry maker...
No English Allowed.

Sound exciting? You will be thrilled.
With a computer of my own, I will be thrilled.
We will have a party.

Actual Conversation

Day 96

There is no snow, but a damp cold. Warm floors oh, you warm floors. Temporary PC rejects printer drivers and then decides to reject me. Mystery ports can't find mystery hardware. Windows will not to open.

Day 97

Young Me and I go out for Golbenggi Noodles after work. She needs to tell me something, she says. She's leaving for good in exactly four weeks.
You, Young Me? The only person in the Hagwon who can acutally hold an English conversation?? You're leaving???

Day 98

Christmas Eve is like Valentine's Day in Korea. It is a day for couples. I remain nearly unaware of this fact until the day-end conversation class.

"Ted, how are you today?"

"Oh! Teacher! I am so sad! I am solo."

"Huh??"

"Yes, today, I think we are all solo in this class. Maybe those who are not here are with their girlfriends."

"HA! Yes, Raphael, you're probably right. Well, hah, okay, we can call ourselves 'The Lonely Hearts Club'. How's that?"

"Teacher! Oh! That is good, that is funny. But Teacher! I NEVER have a date for Christmas Eve"

"Well, Ted, it's not really the end of the world, right? You will someday."

"Ted maybe will, but Teacher what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?"

"HA! No. I don't. But, that's fine. I don't need a date for Christmas Eve."

"But you must be the loneliest! You have been solo the longest!"

"Raphael, have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Okay, well, I think it works a little differently in the United States. Let's go to paaaagggge 38!"

Day 99

I reach for some deep thoughts while biking next to the river. Egrets flock the gravel road ends. I turn back to find another route. I drink "Decent Coffee Blood of Southern French Style" at "Hands Coffee". This is Christmas, and I am delighted with my bicycle - a present to myself.

9 pm - Waiting in the train station for a friend.

9:30 pm - Student calls to see if he can join us. I inform him that the "us" is "me" for now and there is no need to hurry. I know his main motivation is actually to meet the korean women I am friends with.

10 pm - He shows up with his cousin, I recieve a "sorry, maybe next time" text from her. "Ted" and his cousin try to hide their disappointment and Ted takes me to his favorite Hof (pub) for a Christmas Beer. A fruit plate is served, we snack in near silence (Ted's cousin speaks next to no English) and dutifully finish a pitcher. We are all ready to go home. It is a good thing Ted is hilarious.

Day 100

Back at the Hagwon, I breeze through the day holding onto the knowledge that I will have all next week off. FREE!!! FREEDOM!!! Now what to do? I start making loose plans, I know what my "plans" are actually like and decide to keep it non-comittal. A couple days in Seoul perhaps, maybe a trip to Daegu, I'd really like to visit Gyeongju, and Pohang has been suggested to view the New Year's Sunrise over the East Sea (Sea of Japan).

The Longest Night

Day 91

I think about how I should get up early. I think about it before pulling the covers back over my head to block out sunlight.

Day 92

The season is stuck in November weather.

Day 93

I raised my voice at the students today. It was unexpected, and I felt as shocked as they looked. But at least they stopped screaming. Not many classes are badly behaved, but there are one or two that show next to no respect for me as a teacher. It's not their fault, I think. They can't understand my instructions, they're in classes all day, and the precedent of foreign teachers is to play games and let the kids run wild for a half hour. I've changed that slightly. I try to create a fun learning environment, but I am not a babysitter. That's never been my disposition.

Day 94

Handstands in the kitchen

Roots in my soup.

Over dinner, I learn that Winter Solstice lore includes eating red-bean soup to ward off evil spirits and a superstition that one's eyebrows will turn white if one falls asleep overnight.

Day 95

Today is the shortest day of the year. I use the brief light to venture to Daegu. Walking through the parking lot, I see a student standing outside. We chat and discover that we are headed to the same place. I decide to wait for him, and soon we set out together for the station. With standing room only, we head for the cartoonish cafe car. Multiple shades of green and various saturation levels of hot pink surround us as we discuss whatever comes to mind.

Arriving at Daegu, we set out for Kyobo. A Korean textbook and a brief conversation with a Chinese-Canadian who drills me on Korean numbers later, we are back out on the street. It is the Christmas season and shoppers are out in full swing on Dec. 21. A stage holds a passionate singer backed by a dedicated rock band. We stop for Ommuk between the stage and a cell phone store, struggling to lure customers in with pop songs while the rock blasts from across the pedestrian street. He heads for his family's house, and I head for the station. Today's company was a pleasant surprise.

I return home to the question once again: what is a good activity for 12/13 year olds? This time the answer is making Christmas cards, watching a Charlie Brown Christmas, and the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer animation. Oddly enough, I find myself longing for candy canes and tinsel as Charlie Brown's creator tries to remind me of what Christmas is all about.

one, two, skip a few...

Day 81

The 111 Bus stops in front of my apartment building. The 111 Bus goes to Jikjisa. I put two and two together and wait for the 111 Bus in front of my apartment building. When it stops, I ask..."Jikjisa?" "anneyo (no). haha! anneyo!" Is he serious? Why is he laughing. I don't understand. I just want to go to the damn park! Take a breath. It's not that bad. This has happened before.

In fact, the reason I believe that it is possible to go from my apartment directly to Jikji-sa, is because the ONE time I took the bus, I ended up going halfway out to Jikji-sa before the bus driver stopped and told me to get off. (See Special Edition Post)

I have a plan. I will go get the 111 Bus at a different stop. I don't know what the difference will be, but I will try it. It works. 20 minutes later, I am dropped off at Jikji Park. A short walk past resturaunts and green space filled with weird sculpture, I am in the peaceful temple grounds. The air is cold and fresh, wet snow crunches softly underfoot, the occasional cat crosses my path, and then there's the chainsaw. I'm not sure where, but it is present. A chainsaw.

After a couple hours, I make my way home. I upload photos to flickr. I say goodbye to my computer. I go to bed.

Day 82

What does one do on a day of rest? What is rest?

The battery has finally died on my Mac. I keep trying to plug it in and see if it will charge or if the computer will turn on again. Ever. My trusty Mac. It kind of survived a drop...a screen breaking drop early on in life. And it's been with me since the end of 2002. It's old. It's like an old dog. It was like an old dog. Now it's like a dead dog. A dead dog that contains information.

Angela left a laptop when she left Korea. She had purchased a new one to replace her old DELL Inspiron. The keyboard has a mind of it's own. CAPS LOCK goes on and off at will, generally staying on for numbers and punctuation...which eliminates numbers and proper punctuation. I'm shocked that it's working now, but maybe it has decided to be kind. In any case, I'm thankful to Angela and the keyboard right now. So thankful.

Day 83

one...

Day 84

two...

Day 85

skip a few...

Day 86

Attempt to sign up for pottery at Gimcheon Women's Center. Fail. Thwarted by complete rudeness. Am so frustrated, I struggle to hold back tears and one or two escape as I stand at the curb waiting for a taxi. Young Mi makes an attempt to comfort me, but she is also shocked at our reception. It was nearly their lunchtime, I tell myself. They don't want things to be difficult for the teacher, I tell myself. They don't know he knows I want to take the class. These things are true.

Must work now. I try to forget about the morning's setback and build up my energy to match that of 8 year olds. In comes a package! It's from my Grandmother! My heart is warmed. I decide to open it right away...and the gifts inside...even though it's not Christmas. I unwrap a quilted wall hanging made by her, and looking at the stitches, I am overwhelmed. I feel a knot form in my throat and my eyes well up. I frown and try not to cry again, but I can't help it. TWICE!!! Twice in 3 hours! I hate crying. This is ludicrous. I must pull myself together! I can and do so.

10 minutes later I am teaching. During class, the secretary interrupts to ask what she should do with a second, larger package I have received. CHRISTMAS! It is Christmas for me on December 12th.

Day 87

Morning train. Seoul station 11:30. A short wait and I am greeted by Myeong Hee, who happened to be coming to Seoul separately. I get lunch with her then leave to meet the friend of a friend I've exchanged a few texts and a phone call with.

The friend of a friend is great. He has two visitors aside from me and he's decided to be tour guide. Our first destination is not open, so we wander the crowded streets of seemingly endless Namdaemun Market. Knick-knacks, kitchen ware, pants, shoes, sweaters, slippers, ginseng products, candies, food stands, people, coats, repeat. Post Namdaemun, we wander some more and head to 'Seoul Int'l Photography Festival 2008' which is taking place in the former Seoul Station. Wallpaper crumbles, paint peels, concrete and pipes expose themselves next to crystal chandeliers and chamber ceilings with painted motifs. I love this place.

Hongdae follows, bringing a wild bus ride, a graffiti filled park, an atmospheric hookah lounge, and a (delightful) club (of sorts) that resembles a Dr. Seuss village minus all color aside from red and white. Santas on a bar crawl make their way in and add to the bizarre nature of the moment. Wandering, dancing, people watching, more dancing...we wrap up the night in a club that seems more like an 80's movie than real life. I really wouldn't have been that surprised if Emilio Esteves and Judd Nelson had shown up with Molly Ringwald between them.

Day 88

I part ways with my new acquaintances in the early afternoon, and after a day of not quite aimless wandering of the streets of Seoul, I catch a train home. I arrive, make some soup, and sit down to type.

Synchronic

Day 76

Half of postcards #2 go out in the mail. The other half must wait until I can get a new ink cartridge and more stamps.

Synchronicity in action:

One day I look up "blue people" on the internet a.k.a. "Googled it". My hands are turning blue, is it the cold? I find the Blue Fugates. A strange genetic occurrence in the Appalachian Range results in a family line of blue-skinned people. Huh, who knew?

10 days later, I find out who knew. Writers of an English education book series in search of something interesting enough to hold the attention of a 12 year old for an entire hour.

Day 77

New books and new classes provide a new wall for my students and I to climb.

The Dictionary Quandry:
In looking up a word A, one must occasionally look up words B and C to fully understand the definition of word A.
Change "occasionally" to "almost always" and you may know the problems my students face. When a word like "wrap" is defined by the book as "to roll or fold" even I am confused.

Day 78

A new student joins the golfer and I. He happens to live in the same apartments as I do, and so I have company on the walk home. Fortune smiles!
In other arenas, I attempt to organize a book swap, with tentative results.

Day 79

Mental block for numbers and days of the week in Korean. WHY??? Why does it seem so impossible to memorize and retain numbers and weekdays? I need to tell time, I need to know what day it is, this shouldn't be such an insurmountable task. I fight frustration and struggle to remain the kind of person I'd like to be around. This shouldn't be so difficult. I close the book and stop the lesson early.

Myeong Hee and I turn the discussion to what to do for a weekend away.

Day 80

Friday night:
Popcorn, sweet potato, T.V. on the internet.
then I make a drawing and go to bed. It's nice and quiet.

Short and...Short.

Day 71

The Hagwon is freezing. I must master the art of layering. I MUST. Children wear their coats, electric heaters are in many classrooms, but not all. A hot cup of tea is constantly in hand. The new student in my Conversation class is preparing to take the test to become a Professional Golfer. A Test! His English is fairly good, so it is a pleasure to have him join us. Classroom conversation actually flows a little more like...well, conversation.

Day 72

I go to the Waegook Cook in Gumi, briefly, to watch a friend eat the mountain of turkey he is served. I re-embrace technology and update my Skype account. I speak with family for the first time since my arrival. I print several test postcards and address them. Sort of a family activity, right? It involves others, albeit unawares.

Day 73

Cold. Why is it so cold? Printing, cutting, and addressing postcards until the printer runs out of ink...which happens all too soon. An early evening capped by The Daily Show.

Day 74

The weather of the day is one weird metaphorical mix of foreshadowing for the evening to come. Unprepared for inclement weather, I step out into a warm sunny afternoon, which changes into cold quick rain, which is followed by thick wet snow. The pattern repeats itself and is in the warm stage when I reach the train station.

Day 75

Day of Rest

Jazz & Theater vs. Seaweed Salad & Sugar Cookies

Day 66

Excitement of Friday has kids bouncing off the walls. Apartment is re-arranged, but it still feels like a hotel. Bare walls, perhaps.

Day 67

Afternoon train to Gumi, I meet the woman I met last Saturday. We pace the streets of downtown Gumi together until it is time to get dinner. We meet a woman from Chile selling jewelry on the street. She and I speak for a while. She seems glad to speak Spanish. My friend debates coming to Daegu. Ultimately, I board the train alone.

Evening train to Daegu, I meet the man I met last Sunday. We get directions to Club THAT. We ask several times along the way to ensure a correct path. We are way off.
Eventually we walk up to a building that is almost large and noticeably set back from the main street. The first floor has the atmosphere of an arty coffee house, we follow signs to the second floor. Musicians are taking the stage as we find a table in the crowded room. Apparently the second floor is the "Jazz Lounge". At one point, the bassist switches to something that is almost an upright base, but the body is very slim. I've never seen the instrument before.

Foreigners start filing in and are asked to pay a cover for the music or leave until the theater performance begins. Apparently the THAT has a tight schedule. We pay W5000 and keep our seats. We are soon joined by two others I know and some strangers.

The ensuing 10 min plays are reminiscent of a Bedlam Romp or No Shame Theatre. Only tamer. Once or twice, while shaking my head, I hear a quiet, "Give it a chance." I hadn't expected genius, I came in search of new experience, new people. I wanted to be an observer, and I was. And perhaps the purpose of this event was to create interest in Daegu's first Expat Theatre Troupe...which it did. The final play ends and scorecards are handed out.

The last play finishes as the last train pulls away from Daegu Station. My friend goes home to rest up for an early morning; I decide to stay up until the first train leaves...at 4am. It's already 12:30, so it shouldn't be too difficult. There is a small dance floor upstairs, which is where I head. No one is dancing. I attempt to recruit several others, and there is relative success. I split my time between the dance floor and perusing the DJ's mostly indie dance rock collection, hoping something will catch my eye. It's 2:30. A couple I met a few weeks ago happened to be in Daegu this evening as well. I go with them to a different club. We stand outside as people they know stream out shaking their heads and muttering about awful music. We linger until the music ends, then head downstairs. We leave. 3 am, back at THAT, I say goodbye. No, I don't want to stay. No, I don't want a drink. I'm just waiting for the first train, I'll see you later.

I step into the now quiet streets of central Daegu. There are a small groups of people walking here and there. Armed with my camera and sense of direction, I walk toward the train station. "Don't worry, I can read Murakami in the station, if nothing else," I'd said earlier. That is my plan now. Buy a ticket, read in the station until the train comes. Buildings, lights, advertisements with flourescent lighting are the foreground, with a black sky behind. I feel as if I'm in an abandoned city.



Near the station, a young man, maybe 18, approaches and hands me a stick of grape gum. He asks if I speak Hangul and asks me to kiss him. I have to laugh. Really hard. This is a dare, maybe? When it is clear that my answer is a serious no, he grins and runs to catch up with his friends.

I catch the 4am train and read on the way home. Train to taxi to door to bed. 5:15.

Day 68

10 am phone call. A date in Gumi with my student, Bonnie.
12 pm, I am again on a train to Gumi. I take video of the train ride. camera looking out the window pulling away from Gimcheon station, intermittently capturing the farmland and country-side until Gumi.

Bonnie meets me at the station and takes me out to lunch. DDukbokki at stalls in the market. We get coffee and then head to the Sticker-photo Store. We walk into a wonderland of glitter, pink, and purple. Add some green-screen, blue-screen, yellow-screen, and black-screen...and you have the Sticker-photo Store. Oh, and costumes. She grabs me by the hand and we race around the store, ducking into empty photo booths, trying to decide which one. Greenscreen.



The Result (actual size):



Day 69

Yoga. Work again. Electric heaters in the rooms create a unique scent. I'm not so sure it's a healthy one. A purchase of warmer lighting after work. I am convinced that flourescent lighting is partial cause of poor eyesight. Christmas lights now line my ceiling.

The hotel feel is diminishing.

Day 70

Weather is cold and rainy. Or cold and foggy. It's like being in a dense cloud.

1:30 Teacher's Meeting. Everything is in Hangul until my presentation begins. English Time! Teach, teach. Hey, teach. I wish someone would call me that. Well...no I don't. Nighttime comes and I make two attempts: seaweed salad, and sugar cookies.

two problems...
1. wrong seaweed. This seems more like algae scooped up from the pond rather than the transparent green delicately flavored salad I bought from the Russian Market. I would never be served something this weird at a sushi resturaunt. Horrible. The word "Disgusting" comes to mind. Fail.

2. Too much flour. I knew the instant I put all the flour in at once. Too much. Cookies like bricks. Fail.

7 days

Day 55

Really? I have to go to work again? New schedule. Our classes are shifted around and around. We have a new secretary.
I open a bank account and am PAID!!! I finally get a full paycheck.
Leaves are falling off of trees, and I wear a coat on my walk to school. I don't need it during the day, but after work it is cold.

Day 56

After a failed attempt at financial transfer from South Korea to the U.S.
I buy a camera and rush to class. Something positive will happen today.

Day 57

After yesterday's pointless hour and a half at the bank, I decide to translate phrases I will need, and hopefully that will help. It does. After only 50 minutes, financial transfer is successful.
I go for a long walk. Into the woods again, out. I take photos of the trucks I see.


I decide to go to Bruce, the Traditional Medicine doctor. I will ask if he can do anything for sadness.
He calls the dentist from the first floor up to his office on the second. He hands me an orange. The dentist speaks English with more fluency, and he can help Bruce understand the nature of my sadness. I try to explain that my meloncholia is caused in large part by the high percentage of misunderstanding and miscommunication in my daily conversation with the world around me.
He prescribes Moksa treatment. I lay down on the table and he places small clay pots filled with burning mugwort on my skin. It is related to accupuncture in that stimulation of key points on the body will help the flow of energy in the body. I don't know exactly, but I'll try it out. He also give me herbal teas. I vow to find a book in English on Korean herbs.


Day 58

Yoga, coffee, and Sam-Gye Tang (a small chicken stuffed with white rice, ginseng, and a daechu berry sits in a bath of broth. Mashisayo.) with Myeong Hee before I teach.
Work is going okay. I feel that I've reached a good balance. I am strict enough to keep them from going crazy, easy-going enough to play games and have fun. The new secretary is kind of delightful. Not kind of. Delightful. "Candida!" she says, "Your hair! Like Hagrid!" "Candida! I LAh-Vuh YOU!"

Day 59

The students are trying to get me to read in Hangul for them. Every syllable I utter, no matter how stilted, earns a "WHAAAAaaaooooow". After work I walk to Bugok Dong, the other side of the city. It's not intentional, I just keep walking. Eventually I turn around. I'm restless.

Day 60

A walk to town precedes my 5 o'clock date with Sally, a Korean teacher from the Hagwon. She picks me up promptly in her small white car, and we head to a restaurant. She treats me to barlbap, a mixture of barley and rice served with soup and side dishes. I treat her to coffee at a nearby coffee-house. It is a sweet place. I would take my mother and grandmother there. Sally helps me read from a magazine, but we only get through about two or three sentences before it is time to go.

We drive up to a large building with strange architecture. Strange in its cubist shape style. We climb stairs to the entrance and wait for doors to open.
Walking inside, I am transported to 1998. The auditorium is structurally identical to that of the Community College in my hometown. Perhaps the only difference is that there are Korean characters on the seats denoting row and number, rather than English.
We listen to music until the electronic gong tells us that the show is starting. It is exactly like waiting for the Mohawk Follies to begin.

"Dalgona" is a dramatic musical that uses popular songs from various decades to evoke nostalgia in the audience. It works. The audience around me was clapping to the beat as teenagers ran from their teachers, singing along softly with ballads as a young woman waits for her sweetheart's letter, watching in silent reverence as song accompanies video footage of protests in the 1980's. During intermission, I reassure Sally that I understand what's going on, even though I don't understand Hangul. We go back and finish the show. I am kicking myself for not buying a tape recorder earlier on in the day.

She drops me off at home around 10:30 and I decide that my night is not over. I will go to Gumi. I met the new owner of a bar a few weeks ago, and the official opening is tonight. I can go have a beer, maybe see some people I've met, and come home in a couple hours.

Where is the bar?
I follow the directions, but I am unsure. I had counted on seeing people standing outside (forgetting that smoking is allowed inside). There is a foreign woman approaching. I ask if she knows where "Corona" is. As it happens, it is just across the street and she is going there herself. We walk in together and shortly decide to leave to see if anything is going on elsewhere. Neither of us are familiar with the crowd in Corona, both of us were hoping for more dancing. We head to Psycho, and linger in the doorway, as the bar is nearly dead. We are cajoled inside, and hesitantly step in. Once those few steps are taken, we are being watched over by a giant man, who apparently wants us to come all the way in and go to the bar. Okay.
We go up to the bar.

What do you want to drink? Do I have to? I feel a little uneasy.
She and I ignore the others and talk with each other. We eventually decide to dance by ourselves. As I turn around, the Giant hands me a pool cue.

"A Game! Pool, you play pool. What do you want to drink? A Budweiser?"
I look at her and shrug. I'll play a game, then dancing. The game proceeds with the usual amount of talking down the opponent, but I win.
"He let you win."
I am feeling more at ease, and the dance floor opens up. Impromptu synchronized dance with the giant gets the bar laughing, and I am having a good time. Oh no! What time is it? Okay, I have a few more minutes. OH NO!! TIME!! I HAVE TO GO!
I grab my bag and jacket and sprint out the door. The Giant runs down the stairs after me.
"Where are you going? Why you have to running??"
"TRAIN! I have to catch my train!"
"Catch next!" He catches my hand to slow me down.
This continues to the train station, where he assures me that I won't be able to buy a ticket. I shake my head and quickly walk down to the platform. I will just not buy one. A bus! take a bus! There are buses from Gumi to Gimcheon, take a bus!

I narrowly miss the train. NARROWLY.
"This is your fault," I say. Of course it's not entirely his fault, I could have left earlier. I should have. But maybe I can take a bus. I'll take a bus. We run into someone I know, who informs us that yes, there is a bus, but it won't run until 4am.

There is a collective gasp as I walk back into the bar. An upside to this turn of events is that I can get the woman's phone number. There wasn't time before.

Chat chat chat chat...is it 4 yet? no? not even close? chat chat I am tired. chat. I am going to get a hotel room. chat chat. You will get me a hotel room? I will have a SINGLE hotel room, which I will stay in, ALONE. You understand? ALONE. Me. Alone. Nice to meet you, Goodnight.

In the middle of the night I hear screaming outside of my window. I walk over and look out to see a Korean woman wildy waving her arms in general drunken rage. Her friends cannot quiet her, others cannot quiet her, police arrive and cannot quiet her, in fact, at the arrival of the police, her outburst reaches a level of hysteria and continues for an amazing amount of time. I see three men taken into one police car, and eventually she and another are placed in another. Whoa. Rolling Stone Western Bar...what kind of place are you? I go back to sleep, shaking my head at the weirdness of this existence.


Day 61

I wake, prepare for the day, turn in the key, and head for Daegu. Standing room on the train is a falsity, there are plenty of open seats.
I wander through three foot alleys lined with vendors preparing for the day. I have arrived early and few stores are fully open. Not wanting to be the first customer to enter any store, I am a true window shopper. I read somewhere that the first customer in a store sets the tone for the day. Whether or not that's true, I don't know...regardless, I don't want the responsibility. Purchases will eventually occur.

More footsteps lead me to Kyobo, a large bookstore. There is a reasonably sized English section and I head over to find something new. There is another perusing the wall. He looks about my age and I notice that the books he looks carefully at are good, by my estimation. I go out on a limb and ask if he would like to go for lunch.

Over coffee, I learn that although he is newer to Korea than I, he knows about some arts districts in Daegu. Specifically, he knows about a photography show at the Daegu Art and Cultural Center. This is thrilling. We go and I thoroughly enjoy the show. I thoroughly enjoy the fact that some involvement in current art/culture in Korea is possible. It has been a difficulty; not knowing how or where to view or show art. The show itself is very good. It is the Daegu Photography Biennial, featuring new digital work, older photos of North Korea, work by Chinese, Japanese, and Korean photographers.
Outside the station, I pass an old man playing Venture's style guitar through a portable amp. He is accompanied by an old woman, singing into a microphone. I wish again that I had a tape recorder in hand.
New clothes, new books, new friend. Great day. I board the train at 18:54.

Will Farrell Life

Day 43

This day is a bad movie...in the Will Farrell movie sort of way.

Day 44

The Sequel.

Day 45

"Market Play"

"HOW much is it? TEACHAR!!!" tiny fists punch me in the kidneys. They just want my attention and don't know how to get it.
"WAIT. PLEase, please, wait a minute. Okay?"

Now i'll go stab some pumpkins and call it carving. It's Halloween.

A foreigner with fellow Foreigners.
A foreigner with non-foreigners.

Two very different types of interaction.
The week kind of ends like a Will Farrell movie. Kind of. In a way. In a nice way. Maybe more like an Adam Sandler movie. Early Adam Sandler.

Timing

Day 36

Hangul Lesson 2. Double consonants.
When did I mail a letter? I mailed a letter sometime. When will it
get there? Too soon? Late late? Time. Time and timing. Good Grief.

Day 37

Will this week never END!?!?!
I find it hilariously irritating that I am learning today, day two of Parent Day presentations, that I am the only teacher who will actually be TEACHING for every Parent Day.

Day 38

8:20 am, I promptly walk up to the hagwon. Today is "Workshop Day". Actually, it's Teacher Field-trip Day. We load the bus and begin the 2 hour drive.
We reach Hwawangsan and my gaze floats over 4 large coach buses. And the four coach-bus sized crowds. Persimmon sellers, onion stores...the area is known for the sweetness of these things.
Hike. A HIKE I say! Ropes, trembling muscles, rosy cheeks and all. The end is near.
Breath is coming fast but all is forgotten at the sight of fields of silver eulalias.


We spend time walking among the grasses and waiting for our colleagues. Finally together, we select a mat among the grasses and sit down to trays of food. The October sun is shining, but breezes keep us cool. Rice wine and water, odeng, the bus driver's wife has prepared side dishes for all, and there are food carts atop the mountain with an ajuma who serves us hot pa-jun and odeng.

An alternate route to the bottom consists of stairs and stairs. Rocks and stairs and rocks, ending in an adult-sized playground. Mrs. Lee races to beat us to the playground and instructs us through "today's course" as we reach the bottom. Monkey bar races, a wall climb, a battering-ram-like swing.

Finally back at the bus, we sit in the parking lot and play BINGO. It is an exercise in numbers. It is practice for next Friday's "Market Play". I lose my W1,000, but the excitement of parking lot BINGO is worth it.

We pile back into the bus and are taken into the streets of Daegu. We twist and turn through the city to end up in the center of a traditional market. It is enormous. I would love to get lost here for a day. However, we are under time constraints and, I discover, on a mission. Next Friday the hagwon will transform into a market. We are buying items to sell with "Prime Dollars" at "Market Play". Two hours later, we are at dinner, pleasantly exhausted and ready to go home.

Day 39

Sleeping sleeping sooooo tired. Why? Yesterday's activities, I assume. Putter, putter, clean. 5 pm rolls around and I catch a taxi downtown. I meet a friend and we go to Gumi for dinner and a visit to a foreigner bar. Thus far, I've been silently, but staunchly opposed. I'm cracking a little. We have dinner, which consists of more wheat than I've had in the past month and a half. After dinner, we stick around for drinks.
Korean drinking game.
Luckily I don't lose. Loser buys a pitcher. The game consists of standing around a tree-stump and pounding nails into it with the wrong side of the hammer. Each person gets one try per turn, women get two. I am the second out.
Nore-bang. I have done Karaoke twice in my life. I hate it. This is a little different. A little. It is after 3am, for one, and the only person I know in the room is a flamboyant man from New Orleans. The rest are British and Canadian teachers from Gumi. He shoves the microphone in my face and I join him in the chorus of one, two, three songs, more...We met in Gumi before Anglea left. At her goodbye dinner, actually. Oh, Nore-Bang. I am done for the evening.

Day 40

Train back to Gimcheon 2pm, meeting the Bety(sic) Girls (the store we met in is called Bety, the icon is Betty Boop.) I am late, hung over, and hungry. Where is my coffee?

They are also late, it's okay.
The romantic hopeful of one of the girls is driving us to Jikji-sa.Im You Hee, the youngest of us, is my primary company. She speaks English best, and on the way to the park, we dance in the backseat to music from her cell phone.
We stroll along, stopping to drink spring water and stare at the statues of guardians at the entrance to the temple area. They are beautiful. The painting on them and on the ceilings and walls of all of the temple buildings are amazing. Gold? Is the iris of his eye gold? My questions and their commentary are kept to a relative minimum, as the language barrier between us is great. I see 1,000 Buddhas, I see 1,000 paper lotus flowers hanging from the ceiling, I see sincerity and curiosity in the eyes of old women and children with their parents coming to see the perhaps oldest temple in South Korea. Im You Hee takes my arm and Lee Kyeong Eun walks next to "the Hulk" in her 12 cm heels, which make me only a head taller than her.
"You like tea?"
"Come, we get daechu tea. Traditional Korean Cafe."
The server, who knows my friends, brings us 3 hot cups of tea, one iced. The tea is thick, more like a sweet soup. It is opaque and in it float sunflower seeds and dried bits of daechu, which has no English equivalent. The closest I've heard is "jujube". In the bottom of the cup are ground peanuts. We split go-gu-ma (sweet potato) and drink our tea. Lee Kyeong Eun looks up phrases in "the Hulk's" phone and speaks in English through its techno voice. She is telling jokes and our shoulders shake with hushed laughter.
The wind blows leaves in swirls outside. Finally it is getting cold.
We head down to Jikji Park, and go for Stroll Part II. Statues and fountains, cell phone photo ops and a trip to the "rainbow toilet". The building is decorated with rainbows, that's all. Nothing mind blowing. They tell me of a light show at the fountains at 7pm. It is cold and I need to get something done this evening. We leave the park and make pseudo plans for next time.

Day 41

What? What happened? Another day where I wake up later than anticipated, work seems to start too soon, and I lose the night in a maze of trivial information.

DAY 42

Another Parent's Day at the hagwon. Another hour of undue stress and tension so thick it felt like I was speaking into a wall of wet cement. Blank stares as response when I ask the students a question that's not pre-written in their notebooks.

Somehow my count is off. I am positive that I am due for a writing date with myself tonight. It is tonight, the writing date. I look at the calendar and discover that I stood myself up two nights ago. Thinking about it now, I knew it then, but got wrapped up in going to bed early or not...and magically settled on tonight as the raincheck.

cold remedy:

TEA: ginger, daechu, pear.
a far cry from my former ginger, garlic, cider vinegar, lemon, honey, cayenne concoction as far as common palatability is concerned.

Vitamin C: orange juice, kiwi fruit

Sleep...uhh...somewhere between 5-8 hours, right?

SOUP: Kimchi jjigae, daejeon jjigae, the Korean version of miso. Mashisayo.

Fire Flowers

Day 31

GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!!! Get out of the house before 10 am, I say to myself. That is the goal. Nearly, 10:10 and I lock the door behind me. A morning walk into downtown past old women squatting on the street shining persimmons and thrusting bags of peeled garlic into the air for me to see. Someone is behind her metal cart filling small dips in a cast iron pan with oil, dough, and bean paste. The sun is shining and I climb the stairs to step onto train yard bridge. I complete my errands and chat with Im You Hee, who wears dark blue contacts. I am back before noon and quickly out again. Werrrrrkkkk.

Day 32

Train station 10:35. I'm late. 10:40. 10:50. Mark highsteps past me asking "Did you buy your ticket yet?" on the way. I barely utter "no" and he's 10 feet away. Nicole walks in explaining that the train we're catching leaves at 10:54.
Our seats are separate and I end up next to "Freddie", a businessman from Ghana. He gives me chocolate bars and offers to buy me an international phone card so I can call my grandmother. "Give me your phone number, I will call you with a phone card number."
Uh...thanks, Freddie, but I don't know..."You will come to Seoul soon?" No.
Haeyundae Beach and Pacific Shells. Coral? Too Beautiful.
I draw them in the sand, making patterns, getting wider wider.
Away from shore, Korean Krishnas (?) drum and gong their way along the walk. No one pays them much mind.
Subway into Busan. Destination: Gwangalli Beach. People People it is 5 p.m. the beach is half full. The streets are half full.
4th Busan Fireworks Festival. Fire Flowers is the Korean term.
7 p.m. peoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeo
peoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeop
lepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepe
oplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeople
peoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeoplepeop
This must be what it is like to be a blood cell. Veins of people are striving to reach their destination in time. Must. Sit. Before. First. Fire. A crowd of 1.5 million people is on the beach. Or trying to be. I am one of them.

8 p.m.
Notes from the show:
Busan Bridge grows a glowing vine first red, then slowly colors cascade to the water.
Battleships or fakes. Shoot, they're shooting at one another with gold and red and smoke and the gold moon hangs low over a cityscape and WHAT are these flying flames?? Bird Kites!!! Glow gold red and stream green flying flaming over crowds and water. Phoenix. Phoenixes? Pheoni? The gold moon climbs higher slightly and stays large. A globe. Lazers? Do you see those lazers in the smoke? On the building! Oh! Light show!
What is this music? I can ignore it. I will listen to the story these "fire flowers" tell with my eyes.

Later...wander, wander, subway, wander, sleep.

Day 33

A morning train takes me home with Standing Room Only.

Taxi! Gimcheon Science Festival, please. I point to a street-lamp with a flag indicating the dates and times of the Festival. A student has a booth, I told her I would go. Too bad I don't know where it is or how to get there.
The driver nods and drives in the opposite direction. I figure he knows where he's going...until he stops at an intersection near my house and asks Right or Left? Stunned, I shake my head neither. He lets me out and gives me a W300 discount. Thanks, Driver.

What do thirteen year olds like? I try to figure it out and end up watching Hannah Montana, Jackass, Funny Home Videos, and Mr. Ed...some clips of Faith the Two-Legged Dog, and finally decide to look into some Mad Libs. I think that's pretty close to what they like. I think.

Day 34

Address postcards. Gluestick stamps to postcards. Post postcards.

Day 35

On the way to work, I remember that today, parents are coming to watch my class. No sweat. They're a good class, I'm a good teacher. It's fine. Until Mrs. Lee appears and is a flurry of nervous energy and Yuna, my co-teacher, is trying to explain to me the lesson plan, but can't fully and so enlists the aid of Cindy.
"What is going on?" the 3 o'clock "bell" goes off. It actually sounds more like a cell phone alarm. I ask for the folder I'm to teach from this hour.
"Mrs. Lee didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"You're supposed to..ahh...ummm...you watch students. They have.."
"Practice? I'm supposed to listen to them practice for this weekend?"
"Yes!"
"Where??" I am guided by the elbow by Sally to a room downstairs. She leaves and students file in. What is going on? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I ask students in the room to start their presentations. Mid-presentation, other teachers file in and sit down, other students come in and sit down...15 minutes into it all, Mrs. Lee comes in.
"Candida! sit sit sit come come come come, sit." What??
She rapid fires words at the room, sets up a fake podium bustles through the front of the room and instructs students to start over. She motions to me and asks me to go upstairs to practice for the 4 o'clock class.
"Very important day, today." Okay, I'll go practice.

How did it go? Oh, fine. It went fine. Fine...it's fine it's fine, slightly awkward, I mean just fine. great! fine. The kids are great. Timing is a little off and there's extra time in which Yuna and Mrs. Lee are mouthing "Speaking Time again Conversation Time again Sing A Song again" Okay.

After class, I think about the fireworks again. I wish for a camera. I wish for...I want to...the flaming kites. I can't believe they were real. Luckily, total strangers Sheri & Trav were there, too. And they made a video.

Room 1 Room 2

Day 26

What I learn:
Dokbuki
Kimchi-jigae
insight as tooooo...well, nearly arranged marriage. Insight as to what "Seon" is.
Seon, as per my understanding, starts out kind of like a blind date, with family involved. Two people get together, see how things go, report back to their families...if there's a second date, there's essentially an agreement that the relationship will result in marriage. It's possible that the marriage won't take place for a long while. The romantics will get to know one another, but it's unlikely to be called off.
The woman who teaches me how to make dukboki and kimchi-jigae does so while telling me about her seon date the day before. I (and a multitude of others) had accidentally called her while she was on it.
She's perhaps 3 years older than I am, but there is definite societal pressure on her to be married. Him, too. He's 4 years her senior. People get married, have children, remain extremely close to their families. The families of both are eager for their kin to be wed. And create more kin.

For the rest of the day "seon" is on my mind, until I accept that I just won't understand it. A walk with a friend at the base of Gumosan brings us past a zip-line among the trees. model traditional houses are passed by; clay pots, clay floors, clay walls, wood roof. they're beautiful. so simple.

Day 27

It is rare that I fully wake before sunlight. More common is a bleary eyed stumble to the bathroom at dawn, followed by a second look out the bedroom door at the light splayed across the floors of "room 1" and "room 2". It is yellow yellow yellow. I can go back to sleep now.

Day 28

Giving a presentation at my full time job? Who Am I??? WHO???
I am Candida and I bake apple pies for Korea.

s-u-c-c-e-s-s

The pie I brought to school is gone before I am back from my lunchtime errands.
I still can't remember which student is Weenie and which is Rudy. Jeniffer and Ansoni I have down. It's okay.

Day 29

Sirens are a-wailing at 2:03 p.m. I don't know why and have no one to ask. I just hear dogs barking and assume it's a test, even though it seems like a long one, and as soon and I write that it seems long, the sirens die down. Tornado sirens...Nuclear Plant warning sirens. Not police or fire department sirens.

printing printing postcards and the ink won't dry on one side.
The paper is not two-sided.
I didn't think of that.

Day 30

In the morning...I can READ! I Can Read. I can read the words. I cannot tell you what they mean. But I can read.

I discover how to use the floor heating system. I turn it on in "Room 1" and "Room 2" in order to figure out which rooms are which. Quite kind, the warm floor.

Later that evening...
Potato Sticks and Pizza snacks.


Both items are actually "potato chips". A friend brought them over. Really. I'll show you. It's like this is the snack bowl at our party.

What's in them? I don't know...outside of enough MSG to make my tongue numb in 5 seconds.

Monday's Child

Day 16

My work day starts around 2 p.m. most days. I take my shoes off, put on slippers, and walk into the school.
Classes are 1 hour long. Either I teach for a full hour (later in the day), or I teach for half an hour (earlier in the day).
I have 7 Korean full time co-workers and one Australian part-time co-worker. He and I are the Native Speakers on staff. Mostly, our duty seems to be to facilitate conversational ability. Korean is nearly an exact opposite of English. Learning English is difficult, and most Koreans start in early Elementary. Primarily, the focus is on the rules of grammar (as there are MANY), pronunciation, reading, and writing...but not necessarily comprehension or conversational ability.
I teach people from ages 8 to adult. Not speaking Hangul is a real handicap with the younger students. Luckily, I like to draw. So do they. I've seen a pretty priceless P-U-P-P-Y. it was quickly morphed into P-I-G. "P" words.

Sometimes the kids kind of sound like little robots because Hangul stresses every word equally, unlike English, where there is a cadence to speech. It's strange for them to learn the cadence. Although to be fair, if I even get to the point of speaking Hangul, I will probably sound like a slam poet all the time.

Day 17

Today is day one of a three day weekend. It is the National Foundation Day of Korea. The story of National Foundation Day follows, as told to me by Mercy, a co-worker:

"Hwan-Woong was the ruler. There was a bear and a tiger who wanted to become human. Hwan-Woong said go into the cave for 100 days and eat garlic and mugwort. They went into a cave but Tiger became impatient and left. Then...ahh...defecation? defecation?? is that the right word?? auhh...defecation! (Mercy says with a slight grimace) so..the bear! auhh, yeah..not pretty! but Bear (she moves her hands over her face) and stayed in the cave and came out of the cave a woman. Beautiful. She marries Tan-gun's father and has Tan-gun. His children are the people of Korea, but I don't really believe that. All people are really made by God."

"A myth? Korean mythology."

"Yeah."

"It is good."

"Yes."

On this day I go to a traditional resturaunt with a co-worker. Bibimbap followed by a stroll around a pond of lilypads reaching to the sun. A true spectacle. She also takes me to an art store to help me get what I need. I've approached this art store before, and not speaking Hangul, was shooed out. In the evening I eat blowfish.

Day 18

Please see "Special Edition" blog.

Day 19

I feel like leaving the apartment.
No move is made to do so.
Except at 5. Badminton date is canceled.
Rained out.
Try to download The Host...a Korean horror flick.
I go to dinner with Badminton friend.
And we make a date for the morning, instead.

I experience a very "Lost in Translation" moment in the late evening. I have gone to E-Marte, and while being lifted to the second floor on the angled moving walkway, I am struck by the surreal nature of midi-muzak, florescent lights, yellows, and pinks.

Day 20

Monday's child seems as if it has had too much coffee.
If going to shows has not wreaked havoc on the workings of my inner ears, certainly these sweet voices will.

A new adult class in the evening. They are teachers. Milton, the oldest, after learning "Miss, Mrs, Mr, Ms" calls me Ms. Pentagon.

Special Edition

1. I bought a printer/scanner
2. I have a story to share, using visual aids.

Today I took a bus in Korea for the first time. I like the bus a lot. There was decorative fabric hanging around the top of the ceiling and it was more like a coach bus than a city bus. It was too bad that I missed my stop.

A co-worker had invited me over in order to show me where bicycle shops are. I was directed to take the bus to his wife's apartment complex. I told the bus driver my destination and took a seat...
through downtown...
past several apartment buildings...
a few shopping areas...
and finally...
Once the bus driver realized that I was still on the bus, he ordered me off, and returned most of my bus fare.

I first stopped at the nearest apartment complex, assuming that this was the place...but not so. After much confusion, "I don't understand" expressions, and laughter, the elderly security guard told me "taxi".

I started to walk down the street, waiting for a taxi to honk at me. (Philadelphia is not the only place this happens.)

The taxi never came and soon I happened upon two teenage girls. Hoping they spoke English, or at least understood it, I approached and asked for help. After much expression of regret, one of them indicated that I was to follow her. Using her cell phone translator function, we communicated small amounts.

First she asked if I was going to visit a friend. I essentially affirm that.


I try to describe him.


I attempt to convey my misfortune.


Finally after much walking, we reach the Woo Bang Apartments.
I tell her that because I cannot call him, I must embark on leg 2 or 3 or 4 of the journey/adventure. She decides to come with me.


She and I approach a parking lot security guard with the following information. Much pantomiming is involved.


An hour later, she and I are sitting in his office, simultaneously watching a Korean drama and still trying to undertand what's going on...


The security guard tells us that a hagwon teacher will return. "What time?" I ask "I don't know." He wants me to wait longer.


And finally...





...and so, another day in South Korea. Please let me add that although the above story centers around slight misfortune, I and my teenage helper were thoroughly delighted with one other's company. I think. I will take the bus again, and I will get off on the right stop. Without missing my stop, I never would have seen steam billowing out of a handsome drama star's ears and nostrils on T.V. in a parking lot security office! Things are going well, and I'll be posting again in several days.