Log43: The New Semester

The new year has begun, and I have already begun teaching.

Let me simply say that the inner serenity which was once a distant dream has thus far been both a haven and a vanguard during this new beginning.  

Last year when I was frightened and unsettled, I groped around for a suitable teaching persona which I could potentially grow into.  Knowing nothing about grassroots education (aka teaching) I wove a garish chimera whose design included persecutor, vaudeville, and a trying mentor.  Time and failure proved to be the best teachers as I tried to preen the outfit, and by the time winter vacation rolled around, my arms and feet began sliding into the sleeves and shoes of pedagogy a bit more comfortably.  

While the design is of course constantly in the works, perhaps it is this familiarity with an old costume I wore that has vouchsafed my easy transition.  I had at least some template of expectations and standards to which I could refer this time.  I knew the classroom, I knew the environment, and I knew how to walk in my unique ensemble.  I didn't know the students nor their comportment, but I knew myself much more.  I knew how to carry myself, and how to effectively communicate my ideas to my students.

This year I teach all first and second grade students, totaling to more than seven hundred.  Though the second grade students all learned from me last semester, they are in new classrooms with new classmates and still have voids in unanswered classroom dynamics and friends.  As for the first grade students, few, if any, know each other at all.

I have seen the consequences of giving a poor first impression on the first day versus a great impression on the first day.  In the former, your students see your hesitations and doubts because they are written all over your face.  In the latter, your doubts and locked away in a safe and forgotten for the time and your decision and word is final and unquestionable [not as a matter of myopia or wisdom, but simply confidence].  In a rather unforgiving environment where student motivation is as varied as snowflakes and only a few in each class care to learn the subject, much less actually comprehend it, the effects of those first fifty minutes last well into the semester and, perhaps if you do it right, into the livelihoods of students many years down the road.

I have yet thrown out anyone in my first grade students' classes.  I can't tell if this is a good or bad thing yet. :) Though I may have been astringent, I can tell that I have grabbed the attention of many of the students.  Simply put, I feel good about where I am with teaching right now; at least, with the first week.

Furthermore, with teaching much more grounded in my mind, my heart, and hence my life, I feel a vigor within me that I did not feel last semester.  I was always too exhausted last semester, too tired to do anything else.  

This year I feel very different.  There is a life and a jubilation within me, an excitement and positivity that goads me to strive on and experience all I can.  Perhaps closely tied to my resolutions to think more positively and strive on diligently, I look forward to a semester of unforgettable experiences, both in and outside the classroom.

Thanks for reading!  I hope you're all well!

Log9: Sleep and Log8 Continued

Okay, I ran out of time yesterday so I'll complete this now. 

Why now you ask?  Because after language classes this morning we have been absolutely free all day; no workshops, no tests, nothing!!!  Okay, so this is actually only semi-free, since theoretically we are to spend these "free" hours preparing for our language class finals tomorrow. 

I fell asleep and took a 2.5 hour nap.  Wonderful. Gorgeous. Sensational.  Needless to say, amount of studying I have gotten done as of 6:42PM remains at zero percent.

But back to the story.

1. Jeonju

Jeonju should be exciting.  The school seems devoutly religious, and though that of course says little about the day-to-day lives of the students and/or teachers--and much less about their internal convictions and practices--it may be a telling sign for my home-stay situation.  It also goes to show you just what a great sense of humor life has.

Some of you may know I am not very religious, and that I have my atheistic leanings.  I am committed to deeper explorations of faith in its various manifestations, but aside from intellectualizing religion and its meaning I've never been able to find actual religious practice very rewarding.  Actually, let me rephrase.

I've had a difficult time in Asian/Asian-American/Korean Christian worship services, which have been the only Christian services I've been to. Really, I've never enjoyed them.  It's a strange primal, gut-instinct disinclination that I immediately feel when I'm in that setting.  It's inexplicable and takes time for me to articulate that visceral fervor I feel.  The one area of worship service that always gets to me is when all rise and begin singing to the glory of God.  But I certainly think there will be more to say in the coming year on this topic, so let me not try to stray too far from the path.

A comedy of sorts it seems then that life would give me my most demanded preferences with flying colors but also give me the necessary evil (haha no pun intended).  For all you politically-correct minded folk, I'm not saying religion is bad, Christianity is evil, etc. etc.  I stated my religious preferences clearly on the form in hopes that I stay far away from a situation similar to that of last year's ETA, when a fellow had to meet a 6PM curfew each night and attend church services for several hours straight on each and every Sunday.  Granted I know that's very unlikely to happen and there is a flood of my own unfair and unstated assumptions I am currently thriving off of, but let me write honestly and tell you that these are my concerns.


That said, I know I have it good knowing that these are my concerns.  


2. Parents

 This past weekend I visited the family in Seoul.  The trip was great, and not so surreal this time since I got to see them in a more familiar setting.  


I saw my grandmother who has been depressed for several years now and whom my mother is taking care of.  I also saw the home-maker who has been with our family ever since I was a baby, and whose strength and fortitude knows no bounds (dirt poor, she raised her four adopted children alone and sent them to college while also saving her husband from a blood clot in the brain by cutting the back of his neck with a kitchen knife to prevent a clot from forming--sorry graphic, but the doctor said this saved his life; all this to say this woman is fearless).  Afterward I went shopping for a backpack with my mom and haggled to get a good price on it, then had burgers (great) for lunch.  I went to see my great-aunt and her cancer-ridden husband (whom I barely could recognize due to his weight loss but who recognized me immediately and with great elation), had dinner with my cousins and uncles and aunts, then passed out by 11PM.  It was exhausting, really.


But I woke up at 10:30AM the next morning, which really all made up for it.  Then my parents treated me to my first meal of the day: really good Mexican food with a Negra Modelo.  The smells, sights, and tastes of that meal felt to me like what Beethoven's Third Symphony--perhaps the most revolutionary piece of music ever--might have sounded like for the first time. I was all smiles.  Mind you, beer--and good beer--is not something of a trademark art in Korea.  Even just a Negra Modelo tasted like wine from Dionysus.  


Anyways.  


So I'm back, and in a couple of days I'll be off to Seoul again for quite the weekend. 


Friday: Pool party at Ambassador Steveson's crib (and/or the consulate? not sure)
Saturday: DMZ (+ evening "shenanigans" probably)
Sunday: uh...not sure?
Monday: "Graduation" from Korea University language classes, ceremonies held at Korea University.


Today is a Tuesady.
Tomorrow we have finals.
Thursday is my birthday.

I'll be drinking some much needed red wine that evening.  My goodness.

Log7: A New Outlook

So I've caught up on the past two weeks, but here's what's new.

In less than 12 hours, I will know in what school I will teach and in which city in which region of Korean I will live for the next year.

This has been a rather unnerving process.  We have filled out preference forms requesting certain characteristics from our placement: i.e. type of school (middle/high, girls/guys/co-ed), type of environment (rural/suburban/urban), geographic layout (inland, coastal, etc.), etc.

After living in a rural small village town for the past five years, there were three things I absolutely wanted (and which I made clear on my preference sheet):


1. Music.  I want to be able to take advantage of musical opportunities at my location, via community orchestra, chamber music, traditional music center, whatever.
2. People. I want to be close to people I know and have befriended here.  I want that support system, or even just knowing that they are near me.  I mentioned specifically that I hopefully be placed near my 2010 Pitzer friend who reminds me of Gerber-Baby (aka Nick; see Log6.6, Friends).
3. Food. Okay, seemingly silly, but really important in my mind.  Having eaten the same cuisine the past few weeks was difficult.  I had more than one occasion when I almost became sick of the food (kim-chi, actually, which I could eat without a problem but apparently not without some diversity injected every once in a while), a scary thought if one were to consider seriously the huge role food has in all of our lives and will have in my life this coming year.  I don't want to be in a situation where I can't eat the food that's being provided to me, or that I become resentful.  I want to have that burger, that burrito, that other cuisine at least available and accessible so that I know I can have them, even if I don't have them everyday or every week even.  


Where do these preferences point me?  Hopefully a suburban or urban city where the aforementioned elements will already be inherent to it (music, people, food). 

All this said, yeah I know Republic of Korea (aka South Korea) is the size of Indiana; it's really not that big.  So yeah I know I can easily get access to the above things with reasonable travel times.  

But I'm going to be busy.  


In years past there have been both shouts of elation and tears of disappointment at this meeting (people not getting what they wanted).  I'm obviously going to try not to stress about it because all is said and done and, as my Week 5 CAC says, I will make the best of whatever situation is given (because I have no other choice)...but...I really hope I get a decent placement next to some good people.  Just saying.


Hm.  I'm a bit nervous.  I'll let you know how that goes tomorrow. 

Log6.4: Dancing the Stress Away

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago.  The following is the fourth of a six-part series.

This is Part 4: Dancing the Stress Away

I have been listening to a lot of music...but not Korean music.  It's been interesting how you sometimes gain an appreciation for the things that you had when you become distant from those things.

I have a large collection of music, and as I listen to the songs I inevitably run into songs that evoke memories of my dancing days; mainly salsa and swing.  And for the past two weeks, I had been DYING to get back into social dancing (it is an incredibly small niche in Korea; most everyone has never done social dancing).


So I asked around among my ETA friends, and lo-and-behold we have dancers.  Good ones.  Many know swing and salsa so we decided to make something happen.

The first night, five people showed up and we hosted lessons on the basics.  Two nights ago (Sunday) we had a group of maybe 20, 6 of who were the language teachers (and who ended up being the most unfamiliar with and consequently most enthusiastic learners).  Tonight I missed the third lesson to catch up here online (we're reviewing basics).


The extent to which I felt rejuvenated and alive after salsa-dancing with another ETA for just three songs and swing-dancing for just two songs astounded me.  Dance--much less social dance--is a small niche even in America but which has gained prominence with the rise of popular TV shows.  Here, dance is incredibly popular but the idea of social dancing is unheard of, especially in light of the social conservatism still upheld with respect to dating and the gender divide.  It exists, but I think it is a tiny --but lively, as all groups of dancers tend to be--community in Korea.  I look forward to finding opportunities that will help me recall my dancing shoes.

Log6.3: A Musical Renaissance

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the third of a six-part series. 

This is Part 3: A Musical Renaissance


Everyone told me that I should continue to play music after I graduate.  I couldn't tell you then or now how exactly I will be involved with music, but it seemed only right that I do.  I just can't seem to separate myself from this metal pipe of an instrument, and--ipso facto--music.

Since I've arrived in Korea I can't count...3? 4 days in which I failed to practice.  Of course, we must understand the term "practice" lightly, for I am not attending to the once rigors of scales, arpeggios and etudes I once used to.  By "practice," I could mean anything from an hour to ten minutes.  I know that daily and continued playing--even just touching the flute each day--can play a significant role in the long run.  Eventually, word got around that I play the flute, and there is an incredible pool of amazing musicians in this group of ETAs.  I have been happily surprised.


I met Emily (or more famously called EKG after her initials), an officer who works at the Fulbright office in Seoul .  After hearing her fantastic violin playing at an impromptu performance at Haeinsa, I had hoped to speak to her regarding musical opportunities in Korea.  Not two weeks later, I would be performing five pieces with her and another ETA pianist for over 120 students and staff!

She was asked by Camp Fulbright (see Log6.2: On Pedagogy) to perform something for the campers on Music day.  She approached me knowing that I had my instrument and asked if I wanted to collaborate and I of course readily agreed.  We recruited another ETA who happened to be a brilliant pianist, and together we rehearsed for maybe two hours in total and performed for the students.  We played a Telemann duet, the "Flower Duet" from the Lakme opera by Delibes, and three movements from a trio written by an Italian composer Cui.  


The last time I collaborated with other musicians--much less rehearse and perform with them--was more than two months ago.  I had not realized how much I missed it, but while rehearsing with these two fabulous musicians, I remembered the vitality, the energy, and the inexplicably divine and pure joy music gave me.  To stand there and immerse myself in the music and become lost--even if only for a moment--in a world beyond our own was the most refreshing break I had since arriving in Korea.  And to share this experience with the 100+ campers and their staff in addition to the musicians with whom I collaborated...well, that was just enchanting.

Log6.6: These are a Few of the Things that I Miss

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the last of a six-part series.

This is Part 6: These are a few of the Things That I Miss

1) Brother:

I called my brother yesterday afternoon (KO Monday afternoon = CA Sunday evening) for the first time since I got to Korea, and wow did I miss him.  I didn't know just how much I did until I began listening to his voice, seeing his face in my mind, and feeling numerous pangs in my stomach, my face become hot, and my vision blur with tears and my voice tremble a bit.  I composed myself of course, and I know he didn't notice, but my powerful visceral reaction to hearing his voice was a surprise even I didn't see coming.  I guess you can say we have a close relationship.

2) Friends:

Here's a public note to a couple of my dear friends (and for everyone not mentioned, it's not personal; I do miss you all sincerely):

I. Dear TJ Lane

I'm sorry I haven't contacted you personally for so long.  I will do so soon, if even only for my own sake.  But remember that Nalgene you got me for my birthday last year?  And you know how much you like to see your gifts being used well?


You can't see it yourself, but believe me when I say that the water bottle and I have become inseparable.  I remember misplacing it once and I was under extreme duress for the next three hours until a friend found it for me.  It has become an absolute requirement, a lifeline, a part of me.  I have it every time I leave my room; to workshops, language classes, anything, everything.  

Thanks.



II. Dear Nick Gerber

i) I don't know if you've read "Log6.2: On Pedagogy" yet but let me tell you that your help was essential to the success of my last lesson, not only for your pedagogical advice but the basic framework which you outlined for me and which launched my lesson plan in big ways.  The kids were engaged, focused, and walked out probably a bit tired but more importantly thinking, and thinking critically about these issues.  Thank you.


ii) I have befriended a Pitzer 2010er who is here with me now and whom I had met at the CORO Fellowship finalists interview day.  Who would have guessed that he would quickly become one of my closest friends with whom I have connected very well, in part because he reminds me of our relationship SO MUCH.  Seeing his mannerisms, the way he speaks, his conversational style, his body posture, his sincerity, his warmth and a big-brother-type aura he exudes are all so incredibly similar that I could easily deny this as mere coincidence; that there is something else in the works, a grand plan, some eerie twilight-zone/parallel-universe thing going.  Remember our freshman year?  That's what it's been feeling like with this guy. 


In any case, this is not to take away from either you or him as human beings or undermine the different relationships we have built and will build, but I just thought I would share with you this interesting peculiarity in my life. 


Miss you, babe.

Josh and Chris, if you're reading this, no I'm not gay.  *sigh* And don't worry, I miss you guys too.

3) Weather

Today I dipped my shirt in a pool of warm water and let it soak there for twenty minutes.  By this, I mean that I played basketball for thirty minutes.


"Dry" is not a concept extant in Korea, apparently (not true, not extant in the summer; it's very dry in the winter).  The humidity level is absurd, and the actual heat from the sun has not helped any.  Thank goodness for air-conditioning, because otherwise none of these electronic devices would be functioning properly (due to moisture; exaggeration, but only slight).


4) Mexican Food

The first time I had a burger in the past six weeks was two days ago.  What makes you think Mexican is something even remotely conceivable by my neck-of-the-woods?

So apparently there are a few good Mexican restaurants in Seoul.  But really the past few weeks have involved at least one person a day saying, "I know I shouldn't say this but...I would die for a [insert taco, burrito, quesadilla, or other stereotypically Mexican food]."  Oh my friends, it has been difficult.  Oh my friends, I do miss these things called chips, nachos, burritos, pinto, black, salsa, guacamole...

Cherish them.  Eat them for me.  


I go to Seoul this weekend.  The first thing I want to have will be these foods.


5) Wine

Wine is not common here in Korea.  It's not consumed, and it's not produced well.  If produced, it is often fake.  If imported, it is imported often from other Asian countries who also fake it.  The alcoholic staples here are soju and bland beer.  

Two nice cabernet-sauvignons are sitting above my bed right now.  I brought them as gifts to give to my 1) school principal and 2) host family.

I have since bought an imported white for cheap, scraped off the import label, and have decided to substitute that for one of the reds which I myself will consume, hopefully on my birthday. 

I want some wine. 

Log6.25: Log6.2 Interpolation

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is an interpolation of the second part of a six-part series.


This is the Part 2: On Pedagogy, INTERPOLATION

NOTE: As of August 25, 2010 the blog has become public, and as such the contents of the following entry have been revised.

The following is a true story.

As many of you may know by now, none of the Claremont Colleges (henceforth the 5C's) are knock-off schools.  At least, I respect them.  There are of course intercollegiate dynamics that have been popularized by the media and to some extent we have lived up to.  Such instances aside, we are predominantly intellecutally driven, ambitious and accomplished individuals.  Last year's Fulbright ETA Korea class consisted of at least one representative from each of the 5C's except for Harvey Mudd, and this year there are--albiet homogeneous--six of us: one Pomona (yours truly) and five Pitzer.

The mentor for my one of my lessons was a graduate of [insert 5C college name].  This year's class introduced ourselves earlier in the week to her, so she knew I was the lone Pomona; and I knew she was [insert college name].

I sit down with her to go over my "Stereotypes" lesson plan the evening before I teach it.  I enter the room, say hello, she says hello back, and as I sit down the following are verbatim the first words from her lips:

"So, I read your lesson plan and it's very Pomona...(she had a clear emphasis on my alma mater)"

I'm sorry, what?  Oh, yeah, that, yes; well, yes, I did attend Pomona College.  Thank you for reminding me of this invaluable fact.  I am grateful that you could identify that most crucial and overwhelmingly relevant element of my lesson plan and remind me of it.  How do you think I can incorporate my alma mater's name into becoming a better teacher?  How could I apply this fact to my lesson plans?  Do you think the fact that I attended Pomona College should be something I impart unto my disciples in the future?

DUDE, WHO CARES?! 

Apparently, she did very much because she continued to drop my alma mater's name, turning the Roman goddess of fruit tress into an adjective she could wield as a weapon to impart characteristics and judgment less unto the lesson plan and more unto me.

It was a revealing moment about one Claremont Colleges student, and it was rather disheartening to see.  Perhaps she doesn't care, or didn't even notice, but this was the first time I had heard somebody even mention my school name since graduation!  Having been here meeting these wonderful people, the last thing I remember about a person is which school he/she went to, because frankly that's not relevant!  At all!  So why is that something so subliminally haunting your critique of my lesson plan?

I'm making it sound like a bigger deal than it is.  I simply smiled, marked it with a small asteriks among my day's activities, and quickly became lost in whatever actually mattered.  It's fun to look back on it though, hehe.

What I can say is that the incident failed to improve my image of [insert college name] students.  This has nothing to do with what my initial images of [insert college name] students are; just that the incident help improve them.

But it's okay, because one of my closest friends is a [insert college name] graduate and he is one of the brightest and most enjoyable human beings to be around. 

...

What does it say though if he didn't actually like [insert college name] much?

Log5: A Lesson and a Word on Identity

Just posted a new post, but here is another one with some other thoughts on a couple of things.
1. This week, the Korean Fulbright Commission (officially Korean-American Education Commission, or KAEC) is throwing a two-week English immersion camp to middle school and high school kids from around the country held at the same site.  This is of course mostly for the students, but it has also become a great training ground for us the ETAs.  As such we will be teaching our first classes to Korean students in these testing grounds with overall good students before we're throw into the real things.

The Temptations, 1964 (read on; there's a reason I posted this picture)

Tomorrow (er, in about 12 hours) I will teach my first lesson.  I have no previous formal class teaching experience and am a bit nervous about it; many of this year's grantees have substantial teaching experience, have done TFA (Teach For America) or even have actual teaching degrees.  Luckily I'm part of a good number who are total newbies to this teaching thing.  

However, I also know that there is a great performance aspect to teaching and as I have been thinking about it as more of a performance, somehow I've become more comfortable with teaching.  I'm really excited, actually; I'll try to put on a show for these kids, and try to keep them engaged for 50 minutes with a reasonable attempt at an improvised, interactive theater performance.  I loved my acting class last semester and have always felt reasonably comfortable on stage so the territory--at least in this light--won't really be all that strange.  I feel grateful to all my greatest, most influential and most memorable teachers because I've really been thinking back about them and what made their classes so memorable.

My first lesson is going to teach the students (English Language learners) about rhyme through the classic My Girl by The Temptations.  Luckily, this is a song that excites me a lot so at least I will have my enthusiasm to fuel me along, if not hopefully the other students as well.  If you listen to the songs, it's sheer poetry: I got so much honey the bees envy me, I've got a sweeter song that the birds in the tress... People don't write like that anymore!  Love it.  I'll let you know how it goes...

2. A quick note on my identity:  It has been a tremendous learning experience on a nearly revelatory level to be a Korean/Korean-American/America (I'm still grappling with all these different categories) back here in Korea.  We have been told to wear this name tag so that the orientation site university summer students and administrators can recognize that we are with Fulbright (aka foreigners).  Of course with those who are not Asian-American or Korean-American, that distinction can be made pretty immediately.  But that's not the case with us who hold such phenotypic similarities, or more colloquially, us "Asians."

Here's a funny anecdote (funnier if told in person): 

I enter the elevator on the 6th floor to get to the 2nd floor.  Several native Korean students are in there chatting it up.  They immediately notice my name tag, so naturally certain characteristics are attributed to me (as we all inevitably do as natural human beings in an effort to make sense of the situation and grasp the things we perceive); i.e. that I probably have no idea what they are about to say because, well, I'm a foreigner.  Of course no one seems to notice that I have the most distinctly Korean name among all us "foreigners," but if one did notice, he obviously did not care.  


We ETAs have been given CAPS keys, or all access-keys by the university for the duration of our stay as part of our dual protection under and abidance to both Korean and American laws (i.e. basic freedoms).  This CAPS key is a sacred privilege on this campus because the curfew here is 11PM for all university students; if students stay out past then, they will not be allowed back into the campus and will have to spend the night off campus.  


This happened to be the topic of this particular elevator ride, because I actually know a fair bit of Korean.  I can comfortably pass as a reasonable Korean, knowing basic linguistic sensibilities and colloquial idiosyncrasies of this difficult language.  But they didn't know that.


So they go off, swearing, cursing, dropping all kinds of F-bombs and cursing out the administrators for not giving them such access as well.  Admittedly, it was both rather amusing and disheartening to listen to.  After hearing them rant and spew diatribes, I stepped off the elevator before they since they were getting off on the first floor.  As I walked out with that I'm-trying-to-be-cordial pursed-lip smile, they say with the broadest most beautiful and radiant smiles on their faces, "Bye bye!!!" as if they had just met with the President.  It was incredible, the duplicity of their expressions; something I could not help but laugh and smile about of course.


But the moral of the story can be drawn out. 


I have felt a stringent and unyielding binary of my identity that I had not in such diverse settings as my home in northern California or at Pomona College.  Without the badge of foreignness (my Fulbright name tag), I am a Korean who is fluent, indistinguishable, and accustomed and attuned to all the traditions and histories and subtleties of this culture.  But as soon as I put that name tag of around my neck, I reveal my American identity, my alien and estranging veil.  I know, I know, I know this is a ridiculously absurd attempt at relating back to history, but my experience has become the closest thing to the Star of David that I'll hopefully ever experience because of the absolute authority with which that name tag has commanded the presuppositions and conceptions of others about my identity.  I would hope that if you are reading this now you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't make this comparison lightly or humorously or even without having considered the deep inadequacies of this vain analysis.  But I hope you can afford me your understanding as I try to negotiate myself in this vastly different context.


So many will say there can only be an advantage.  Perhaps, if one were to be a complete idealist blind to the defects of such a one-sided view.  Because there are costs to the immediate judgments that befall one, especially in a country that is so cosmopolitan and intrigued by the apparent, the visible.  There can be tremendous misunderstandings and huge things taken for granted by both parties which, if assumed without persuasion will only lead to hurt feelings and damaged relationships.


Thus ostensibly I can use my apparent dualistic identity as a tool, as a means to achieve near utilitarian limits.  And yet this seeming advantage can become the tool and means for others to gain and meet their needs, to take for granted the exhaustion and emotional wear-and-tear that results from the transformation between modes of identity and ultimately utilize my transmutable capacities for their own gain (i.e. "You can speak Korean, help me out here.") 


Look, there are a lot of subtleties to this argument I'm foregoing I know.  I know there are many things for which I must be grateful, and there are too many things to name.  I know this is an utmost privilege and should be cherished.  I do all of these things, genuinely and consciously.


I'm just saying that it can be difficult and tiring at times.

More to come; thanks for reading.


Best,
Yoon-Chan Kim

Log3: Race and a weekend Trip

Tomorrow we leave at 9:30AM to board the buses for a very long and winding road to a UNESCO World Heritage Site, Haeinsa.  A national Korean treasure, the a Buddhist temple in the mountains is the home to Tripitaka Koreana, the whole of the Buddhist Scriptures carved onto more than 81,000 wooden printing blocks which has been there since 1398 (supposedly the first ever even before Guttenberg).  Read more about it on Wiki here.

So I'll do the best I can, because it's 1:35AM here right now and I should really go to sleep very soon before the trip.  But I do want to at least mention a couple of things.

Understand that due to gender-segregated dorms (strictly segregated), the guys have become quite comfortable with each other.  Not sure how this serves a meaningful purpose to the following anecdote, but I'm sure a good liberal arts student can tie it back to this theme soon.  I just can't be that right now.


Clint is the one African-American male in the entire ETA contingent (3 Af.Americans in all).  He went to Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia and has been a great guy overall so far.  The guys have all gotten pretty close to each other already and have become comfortable enough already to start cracking jokes.

This was funny, and is supposed to be funny.  The following occurred, and is being retold, in good, but not trivial, jest.

Now understand that cafeteria food has been repetitive and bland, even if it's Korean food.  No one holds its quality against any individual human being, but the desirability to eat in has been diminishing over time.  Nearly every meal we just bite the bullet because the alternative is going to the village of a city and actually pay for a meal that is of limited variety, even if it's a bit tastier.


So lo-and-behold, we have what for dinner?  Fried chicken.  Fried chicken.  We are American-cuisine-starved group of Americans who have seen nothing remotely close to something other than bap (rice) and the staple kim-chi (spicy fermented cabbage).  Needless to say, we began to chow down.


Clint, the African-American shows up.  He gets excited by the chicken.  Then notices something that no one else noticed, which is that beside the tray full of fried chicken is a tray full of slices of watermelon.  He comes up and says, "Dude, I am so excited by this chicken.  But these workers were just trying, trying to get a reaction out of me." We laugh, Clint included; "How did they know to put the watermelon right next to the fried chicken?!  Come ON!" I ask him, "do you like watermelon too then?"  And he replied, "No I hate watermelon!  It's just water and...crap."  We burst out laughing, and he admits that "they got [him] with the chicken."  

I know there are serious issues underpinning this short moment from which many of us laughed.  It was of course a deep laughter, a less-than-comfortable one that embodied a tremendous obfuscation of historical, legal and social elements that have been embroiled in tension and injustice for centuries.  One could deconstruct this very moment with biting acuity and without mercy, and frankly a part of me wish I had some exposure to such modes of thought if only to learn about that mode of thought.  Books can and have been and will be written about these very moments, and I know that.  And I am one to acknowledge the significance of these problems and the kinds of questions these incidents raise, and in the right setting engage in these discussions.  But I am also one who picks his battles, and is willing to laugh every once in a while.

*sigh*

It was funnier at the time, that's all I'm trying to say.  I guess it really fails miserably on paper.


The other thing I wanted to mention is this name tag that we have to constantly wear and its influence on my experience as a Korean/Korean-American/American. 


(clearly) I am not very familiar with the politics of identity (distinct from "identity politics" which assumes the rigidity of identity rather than its fluidity and fluctuation), but I have been launched into the heart of this matter.  I knew this when I signed the contract about 2 months ago, but that the reality has been striking goes without saying.


But alas, this is for another post, because I do have to really go to sleep.


I'll take pictures at the temple and post them when I get back!  Hope all of you are well!

Log2: "CAC"s and the Dormitory

Alright, Tuesday 5:45PM and got some down time; unbelievable!

I've actually already been having "down time" for the past two hours, but had been working on 1. my first lesson plan and 2. this week's CAC, or "cultural adjustment check." 

As a means to make sure we are adjusting well, the orientation coordinators (henceforth the "OC"s) e-mail us a weekly set of questions we must answer via e-mail.  While they are a nuisance to many, they have actually allowed me to discover my deepest reflections upon my arrival and have provided me some time and space to just sit, absorb, and think.  So if you really want to know what I'm actually thinking about, then CACs might be the place to go.

I will continue to post these on the "Cultural Adjustment Check" page on the right.  Please feel free to read and comment!

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Thursday, July 14, 2010 1:56AM

Alright, so unfortunately it's been a long day and it will only get longer tomorrow, but I do know that I want to at least share what my room/dormitory situation looks like.

 

The marble-floored and marble-walled hallway.  This floor has all the men in the orientation.

 The dorm room.  My side is on the left, my roommate's is on the right.  The central marble divider has windows for late night sleep secrets...which we haven't exploited yet.  

 My side of the room.

The entire bathroom is used as a shower stall, much like in European hostels.  Such is the norm in Korean bathrooms.

The evidence: a drain under the sink.  Really unnecessary picture, I know, but thought I would share. 

Thanks for your patience. More fruitful reflections will come soon.

Log 1

Well, this is overdue.

Hello everyone, and welcome! This is my first official blog post of my year-long trip to Korea!

Since the moment our plane landed in my birth country on Sunday July 4, 2010 at 5AM - exactly one week ago - we have not had a moment's rest. We dove straight into language tests, language classes, speeches, teaching and cultural workshops. Needless to say, these past seven days have felt more like seven months.

There are 73 of us at this 7-week orientation, and I have met some tremendous people from all over the country, including Georgia, Montana, California, Boston, Oregon, and others. Many are recent graduates of college, including Harvard, Brown, Scranton, Pitzer, Georgia, USC, Illinois Urbana-Champagne, and Williams.

We are in Goesan of Chungcheongbuk do (region), a tiny rural city 3 hours south of the metropolis Seoul. Our orientation camp is being held at Jungwon University, a brand-new decadent structure that looks (and acts) a lot like a product of Pyongyang (capital of North Korea).

I'm sorry I can't say more for now, but today was our first real "break" day when we had some time to breathe. So I went on a hike with some of the Fulbright people, and here are some pictures to give you a sense of where I am (the hike was 5minutes walking distance from our school):


Our Hike! L->R: Janine, Erik, Ji-Soo (Jungwon student), David



Our Hike2



The view from the top...with me (the others got real pictures, so I'll upload them when I get them; the school is behind the high rise apartment on the right behind my head)



The barren street (the car is parked)



The other side


Drawing penises in unexpected locations seems to be a universal practice


Jungwon University sign and gate


Through the gate


The school


The ridiculous fountain in the middle of the school yard


The outrageous golf-course in front of the middle of the school yard

Here's a song a former teacher used for her students.

I sincerely hope you are all well. More to come soon!

-Yours Sincerely