malaysia you are delicious.

steamy tropical air,  incense everywhere, curries, cakes,  rota bread, fruits, tiger beer, real black tea, spice filled leaves...day one of amazing sensations. 

tropical fever

too much cold, too much ice, too much gray and neon.  These blue skies and sunshine keep leading me on while these icy winds slap me in the face--what'd I ever do to you?  Korea, I love you, but I think we need to take a break.
I'm ready to overdose on green.  The many shades, sounds, smells of the rainforest, the many of the beach.  Malaysia here I come.

carets and kimchi and kkkkkkk

I lovingly call this a cartoony culture, but the overuse and abundance of expressions of our enjoyment just reinforce it.  Emoticons are amazingly clever here, and quite addictive I might add.  All of our text messages suddenly include little stars and hearts and funny-eyed smiley faces, full of carets ^^ (see those are some happy eyes right there).  I can't seem to write an email or a facebook shout without making sure my meaning is caret-clear.  Unfortunately I haven't yet discovered the sarcasmoticon.  Maybe it's just a blank space.            How's that work for you?  


The textual embodiment of emotions even needs translation for laughter.  Look on any message board, chatroom, bathroom stall or permanent-marker-graffitied-coffee-shop wall and you'll see ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ or kkkkkk.   What the hell is that?  Well laughter of course, because everyone knows kuh-kuh-kuh-kuh is the sound we make when we chuckle and giggle.  In all fairness, lol and hahaha don't seem like that much more accurate transcriptions of laughter.  It sure does make me laugh more though, thinking of all those k's in a row and trying to make the sound.  
Enjoy, for example, this facebook message between nations: 

• • 
    

    Hyeongjin KKK Brother n sister
    

    June 19, 2010 at 4:50pm ·  · 
  • 
    

    Caspar lol, maybe KKK means something different here.
    

    July 14, 2010 at 8:31pm ·  · 
  • 
    

    Adalet haha, only realised now, indeed i think it was supposed to be a giggle :P
    

    July 14, 2010 at 9:06pm ·  · 
  • 
    

    Caspar  Oh, isn't unintentional racism fun, kids?
    

    July 15, 2010 at 12:56pm ·  · 
• 
  

But the absolute winner in the translated happiness award has to go to the kimchi.  Not fermented cabbage kimchi (On a side note, such kimchi is amazing and worth many awards in its own right) but the Korean version of "say cheese" kimchi.  "Say Kimchi!"  Every time a photo op comes along (and there are TONS of them here; Koreans love hauling their tripods out to the park and getting their picture on), "kimchi" and peace signs are flyin like gang signs at sixth grade skating rink parties.  Ok, not the best metaphor, but you get the idea.  But the kimchi + peace/victory v sign combo seems like the only attack in the korean arsenal for the trigger-happy photographer. It isn't just little school girls that do it, either.  EVERYONE on the continent falls back on this failsafe pose, guaranteed to make you look endearing in photo form.  I don't know when it starts.  I've seen everyone from old Adjumas picking up the recycling to politicians standing on the side of the streets.  It clearly starts early.  At the orphanage I visit I have seen toddlers and even infants already branded with the telltale signs of kimchi infection.  

That last little girl in the crib actually flashed it for me when I held my camera up.  This country sure does like to get em while they're young.  

I know they like conformity, but please give us some new poses.  I'm bored of it.  
Actually, all of us waegooks would be lying to say we are bored of it.  We love it.  LOVE it.  We have co-opted all these little rituals of generic self expression and become masters at it.  We flash our Vs and caret our eyes and eat and scream kimchi with a fervor to match.  It's fun.  It's funny.  KKKKKKKKK.

복 많이 받으세요!

복 많이 받으세요! (Bok manhi padeuseyo!)

old man cold man gumi can't take it

So Koreans are very proud about having four seasons--they seem surprised sometimes to hear that, yes, a good portion of the world on the same latitudinal lines share this phenomenon...  And YET when inclement weather hits, like snow, for example, you'd think they'd never dealt with it before.  To be fair, the past year or so has brought more snow to South Korea than the country has seen in over 30 years, but considering it snowed freakishly in April and has now snowed enough in the past two weeks to cover-thaw-freeze-cover- every driving and walking path of Gumi, you'd think they'd be a bit prepared.
Don't get me wrong, the snow is beautiful, and brings a bit of a relief to the annoyingly bitter cold, sun-shining deceptive cold.  Bring on those fatty flakes and all the fun that comes with them...
Except the streets are mush and ice, cars are fishtailing and skidding and I'm watching people bite it right and left, fearing a bit for my klutz-prone self.  But if I could, if there was some way to pantomime without slipping and eating ass on the icy streets I'm trying to save them from, I would try and communicate a lesson or two to these folks who don't seem to own salt or shovels or have the sense to walk down icy sidewalks without their hands in their pockets or can't seem to take their foot off the accelerator long enough to consider other ways of getting their car unstuck...oh the hilarity.

a holiday letter home

So I know I've been horrible at updating, but it has been a very hectic fall-into-winter.  I wrote a letter home for the holidays, rehashing and reflecting on where I'm at now.  It's a holiday letter for the family, so it's long and sappy, but sums up the feeling of my year in Korea in as brief a way as I can (and still SO much is missing, GAH!)

성탄절 잘 보내요!^a

메리 크리스마스!^b

December 2010

Happy Holiday from the Eastern Hemisphere!

Since the holiday season kicked off, and let’s just include everything from July 4^th potluck bbqs to Thanksgiving feasts to the quickly approaching Christmas and New Year’s revelries, being on the other side of the world makes celebrating a bit trickier.  In fact, being on the other side of the world where ovens, cheese, bread, and decent wine and chocolate are rare, the reality of missing out on these holidays settles even stronger in the deep recesses of my soul, namely, my stomach.  But the cravings for home are burdens I am always ready to face when the opportunity of a new adventure presents itself.  Alissa takes on Asia. 

Almost a year in Korea and this country and all its odd charms have worked very hard to fill the holes of a home back in the states.  I’ve eaten some amazing (김치, 김밥, 파전, 호떡) and not-so-amazing things (worst being 번데기, silk worm larvae), drank even more amazing things (oh 막걸리 makeolli, how I will miss you), and amazed myself with my mastery of chopsticks.  I bow to all adults and elders, exchange gifts with the proper hands, and leave my shoes at the door without a second thought.  Navigating the Korean culture comes naturally now.  I even take my toilet paper with me to the bathroom, fetch the water at the kimbap shops, and never expect a divided check.  I am used to the “Conundrums of Korea” as I like to call them, where following a strict code and the-way-things-are-is-end-all-be-all attitude (don’t even try to change an item on a menu, even leaving a strip of ham off of something they are making fresh) and then schedules and plans will change last minute, with no warning.  I respond to these conundrums with an “Oh, Korea” acceptance and go with the flow, perhaps the best lesson this culture can teach anyone.  There are some things, however I will never adjust to, such as the smelly bathrooms, squat toilets (where I refuse to go #2), the pushing and shoving and horrible queuing etiquette, and not being allowed to try things on in the shops.  It’s all part of my Korea, though—good, bad, funny, smelly—this exciting chapter in my story. 

My Korea isn’t just Korean—it’s actually less Korean than you’d think.  I’m not a tourist, and not a Korean, but a Waegook, a foreigner (Western/English speaking) living in Korea.  There are loads of us, and we do what any Westerners that don’t know a language would do—we glue ourselves together by our mutual outsider-ness, our mutual stranded-ness in small apartments, and our mutual love to party.  So every weekend, every evening, we slip outside of the very Korean world that is our work life and come together with an excitement appropriate for reunions with long-lost family members.  Oh yea, we have fun.  We meld our cultures together, collide it with Korea, and a strange amalgamation of accents, customs and dance moves is born.  And this is our community, our friends, our family.  All of us, only digitally connected to our home continents, have bonded with a waste-no-time-this-is-it intensity.  Inside jokes, nicknames, trust, love, all the things we take years to develop in our comfortable lives happens in moments over here.  It’s wonderful.  My “Korean Family.”

With the help of my Korean and Waegookin companions, I have made this year the most eventful one of my life, determined not to waste a moment.  Every weekend I set a rule for myself: a bit of culture, a bit of partying.  Balance is important.  So taking advantage of Korea’s excellent infrastructure, I set out on a new adventure and leave my wonderful city of Gumi almost every weekend (I think so far, I’ve stayed in Gumi about 5 weekends since I’ve been here).  I’ve seen more of Korea than most of my coworkers or students—as of yet I’ve been to all but one of the provinces.  I hunted down every excuse to visit a place I could find: Green tea festivals, Strawberry festivals, Soju and Makeoli festivals, Mask festivals, Cherry Blossom festivals, Breakdancing festivals, Fireworks, Graffiti festivals, Lantern festivals (Korea loves its festivals).  My favorites were the Boryeong Mud festival where we rolled around in anti-aging mud on a beach like a bunch of three year olds all weekend, or the Jisan Valley Rock festival where I camped in the mountains with amazing music and dancing and revelry.  The weekend adventures are fantastic.

Better than the weekends though, are the real holidays.  Beijing for a week was my first visit to China, where I walked on the Great Wall and saluted Mao (to the chagrin of the guard next to me) and visited temple upon temple.  A week in Beijing in a heatwave reinfused me with a whole new love for Korea, and made even Korea feel clean.  Another week was spent on Jeju-do (Korea’s Hawaii) where we rode scooters and swam on black sand beaches and met the sunrise from the cliffs of a crater (yea, I climbed it twice at 5am).  And one of the best times of the year was a 2 1/2 week visit from my friend Kacye from back home, where I got to get excited about Korea all over again, desperately, and somewhat defensively, trying to prove to her how wonderful my Korea is.  And I got to share a piece of home with everyone here.  The goodbye was a bit sad.

My adventures continue, and I can’t wait.  In my sights are Malaysia, Thailand, more of Korea.  When my heels are clicked and I find myself back in Kansas, I can’t wait to see what I find; just as much of an adventure will come in Kansas as it did in Korea.

This whole experience makes me feel simultaneously more and less connected with the people I love—all across the world.  Skype, Facebook, Email, these digital tools that make us feel connected and yet remind us that we aren’t connected in the warm-blooded way we need to be (like hugs) at least give us something.  But while I am terrible at keeping constant correspondence, or even keeping my blog updated, all of you are with me, all the time, in every experience.  When Grammie died, it hit home even more, how far away I am from everyone back home, but how strong we are still connected.  And while every experience here is different (and sometimes lacking) from the way things are done back home, I am able to enjoy the new things and gain a whole new appreciation for what I’ve left behind (and will definitely relish when I return to it). 

It doesn’t matter where I am or who I meet or how much time I have with them, it what I do in that time that matters.  I don’t want to be just a red herring in someone else’s story; I want to be a positive force that contributes to the story.  It’s about impact.  It’s about infusing every moment, every interaction, with all the honesty and joy and love I have to offer.  Sharing, building, passing it on.  It’s too bad that all these feel-good thoughts only seem to enter the mainstream discussion around the holidays.  Cliché as it sounds, we should be treating everyday like the holidays, living and sharing to the extreme.  I didn’t need to travel halfway around the world to learn that life should be a celebration, but it sure has helped me keep celebrating the new tastes along with the old. 

Wishing you all the constant revelry and wonder that comes when we share our lives with those around us.  Keep the connections strong and keep feeling the Happy Holidays all the other days. 

Love and Peace from the East!

P.S. To all of you who have followed my adventures with interest, who have given me the gift of your thoughts, love, time, or goodies (especially the goodies ^_^), thank you so much.  You have filled me with so much happiness and love I could burst into thousands of brilliant colors (I still have fireworks on the brain).   

a. “Seongtancheol jal bonaeyo” = have a good Christmas

b. “Merry Chrismusuh!” = Merry Christmas

we mean business

Koreans take education serious--WAY more seriously than anything I've ever encountered before.  Even in higher levels of academia, I've never seen the end-all-be-all, your-fate-depends-on-this-test attitude until I came here.  From students walking like zombies from lack of sleep and fueled by packets of Maxim gold, to parents coming to pray outside the schools, there is a loom and doom that far outweighs any excitement or enjoyment in learning.

And now I get to experience the level of importance in my role as an educator first hand.  Today, I will be shipped off to a hotel with four other teachers, sequestered indoors with no communication with the outside.  Why the seclusion?  Because we are preparing the entrance exams for the student applicants to the highschool.  My precise job?  Write 2 interview questions (already did it) for the one student who is applying to the advanced program, who is guaranteed into the program already.  But just in case we aren't trustworthy enough, the school board can't risk us potentially leaking the questions.  Just in case, they better keep us locked up for 24 hours...